I'm getting looks now. And snotty comments. According to those two I have become one of them. For shame! I am now one of those brainless women that wait for a man. My life is on hold until he comes and until then my life has no meaning, my days have no air. Yes, this is what they think. Do I care? No, I don't. Who are they, anyway? One has been living in a disfunctional relationship for an embarassing number of years, the other has been alone for an entire lifetime (not that I think less of people for that, but then don't come with that holier than thou attitude like they would never make the same mistake).
I am in love. That's the greatest thing ever. For about a year it'll be long distance. Do I like it? Of course not. But things are what they are and I'm living my life the best way I know how (and as a matter of fact, I think I'm doing a brilliant job at it!). I have the best person ever by my side and the future looks bright. So what if the present is a bit less than perfect?
Every day has little bits of time when I'm not living here. I'm living in the future. I'm projecting and planning and dreaming. I think of the things I'm going to take, in what order, when, how and where I'm going to put them. I'm practicing skills I never quite developed simply because until now I didn't need to. I dream about creating and adjusting to new traditions. New habits. And a new life. A happy life.
I find Mr Banks (David Tomlinson's character in Mary Poppins) a great example. He is the sort of father that provides for his family, comes home, pats the children on the head, all nice and proper, and that's it. Then after a talk with a chimney sweeper and after being fired he realizes the importance of smaller things like flying a kite with his kids. Things get better because he decides to change.
But the sad thing here - in real life - is that he doesn't want to change. And so things can never change and get better. Because it takes two. I'm ready to be a different daughter, but I won't do it alone. This isn't Little House on the Prairie, you know! I'm not a cold person, I'm just detatched because I have to be. It's a defense mechanism. Funny thing is that it takes more out of me to be this way than to be the sort of daughter he wants me to be. Unfortunately, as Velma sings, but I can't do it alone.
I'm a bit off my game. There's parts of me that I've been neglecting for a while now. It's been months since I last danced. Ages since I last sang. Weeks since I've last watched a musical. I miss it. But right now it hurts too much. Right now I simply can't. I have to focus on other priorities. Other things in my life. Good things. I've stripped away part of me, put it in a drawer, locked it and wear the key near my heart. That's the way it's going to be for a while, a great while. And I'm not sad - quite the contrary, the future's looking bright! - but still I just know I'll miss it terribly.
I have dreams. Lots and lots of them. And now that things are starting to happen, that I'm beginning to be the owner of my life and the one who calls the shots, they all want to be fulfilled. Like a bunch of little kids running towards Santa and crying Me first! Me first! non stop. I don't mind, really. I rather have them behave like this than being shoved all together in a drawer.
That last post - adorable as it may be - totally got away from its original purpose. So let me start over:
I thought things could be weird between us. In person. We got so close on a virtual format that I feared some of that closeness might get lost when meeting face to face. You learn to love someone so much and yet there was no touch to go with it as the feeling blossomed. No looking eye to eye. No body language. What if my quirky self, my meerkatness was just too much when being the same room? I (we) had passed the point of no return. If things went bad it would hurt. A lot. So I was nervous. Afraid of the possible ackwardness and of a potential lack of chemistry.
Again, as it turns out, meerkat was being silly. It was never weird. Because where we're concerned things always flow so easily. It's like discovering I've always known how to ride a bicycle without ever having touched one. I just know. Because I love the wolf so much. And because we're just right.
I thought things could be weird between us. In person. We got so close on a virtual format that I feared some of that closeness might get lost when meeting face to face. And so when he rushed towards me my mind turned to jello and my body to stone. I had a cold and half eaten sandwich in my hand. I wasn't ready. I was supposed to have thrown that out and be holding a book. That's how things should've gone. Oh crap. Before I had time to react (in all fairness he spotted me first, so his brain had a couple more seconds to process it) I was in his arms. The sandwich still in my hand. It's silly, but for someone who dreamt about perfection for so long that tiny detail was getting on my nerves. I guess the perfect moments are never quite as we dreamed them to be. In this case, the stupid sandwich might just be something I will always remember and even cherish. Where was I going with this?...
So I changed the blog's face again. Turns out all that cute green was making me claustrophobic. Hence after much consideration (because I have very poor decision-making skills) here it is. Hope you like it. If you don't, at least I do.
Sometimes people ask me if it isn't all going a bit too fast. No, not really. Even before I met the wolf I knew I'd fall for him given the tiniest chance. If opportunity ever presented itself it would happen. And it did. Of its own accord and timing. And things just flowed naturally. Effortlessly. Some might say I'm trying to make up for lost time. To them I say that is just bollocks.
I'm very happy. Things are going great. And there's no forcing or rushing anything. Things are what they are and they grow at their own speed. And we love it that way.
I love my petname. Really. It doesn't have a great story behind it, it just mirrors how short, cute and sorta fluffly-looking I am and the fact that I have a good memory and notice things. I always liked it by itself. Then the wolf started calling me that and I fell for it like you wouldn't believe. I'm someone else's meerkat and suddenly the sun shines brighter. And that's it right there; hearing the words my meerkat just makes the knees go weak and sucks the air out of my lungs. Mmmmm... *purrs*
Right now I'm typing to keep from crying. I made a promise and I will prevail. I can be stronger than myself. So feel free to ignore me, and please, if you choose to continue, cut me some slack.
I'm sitting on the floor, having bread with chocolate for breakfast. Watching the leaves fall from the trees in the garden. As they swirl on their way to the grass, I wish there was a fast forward button I could press, so time could go on faster. I'm dreading the trip home. Too many hours alone with myself. Which today is less than ideal. Bus, coach, plane. At least I'll be moving around...
I don't want to go home. Most of all I don't want to back to counting days. But life is what it is, and if that's the price to pay for the amazingness that has befallen me, so be it.
This has been the best weekend ever, bar none. I could try to describe it, but there'dbe no point. There's no words to convey how much it meant to me. I am in love by the best person I've ever met. He loves me back. We have chemistry. We fit together on so many levels. And that's what counts, right? Not the days apart.
I will try to be my best. I will gaze upon the horizon and smile. Not thinking that I'm going away, but instead that I could be here and that this time together couldn't have gone better. That we gave it a go and it was a smashing success. And more days will come. With the right atitude soon Christmas will be here.
So I'm moving forward. I will put my boots on (because it sound they make on the pavement makes me feel stronger), grab my bag and go, knowing all the while that this is right. This is good. And there will be more of it :)
No, no, no, the movie I always go back to is You've Got Mail.
And there's an Aaaah and a nod going all around the table. I missed that. I miss us girls getting together like old times. Talking about the old stuff. And the new stuff. Realising how even though things change (like feeling so hooligan for still being up at midnight... and when did we start talking about TMs???) we're pretty much still the same. Although with fancy wine for some :)
There's electricity in the air. A great storm is coming, I can just feel it. I'm boiling inside. All the little(?) things are building up and rising higher and higher. Until I can't breathe when they're in the room. So I leave. I'm an avoider now. Because if I don't I'm sure I'll say or do something I'll regret later. It's all about the browny points. It's sad and pathetic that your family life can be downsized to this: browny points, but there you go. And I'm not about to let those hard earned browny points get lost just because I can't stand this situation anymore.
In life there are a bunch of lessons you must learn. Lessons most people learn from making their own mistakes. And that's good, that's great, I have no issue with it whatsoever. What troubles me is the people. The meddlesome people. And the hypocricy of the fact that incorporating those lessons into your life is only commendable if you've made the mistakes as well.
I'll give you an example: learning to splurge a little time on yourself. If you're working too hard and lead a very stressful life people tell you to slow down, to learn how to pamper yourself. To learn how to say no so you can say yes, and that saying no makes your yeses worth so much more. Makes sense, right? However, if you get to that state of enlightment too soon, without going through all the stress and the pain, then people assume you're lazy or spoiled. That you don't know how hard life can be. Bad, bad you! Go back in line and suffer like all the normal people! Brilliant logic, innit? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for learning from your own mistakes etc, etc. But why are people so keen on robbing/thrashing people of what they have if they think that it wasn't earned enough?
Growing up I was always obcessed about love. I had a rocky start in life, and so I distinctly remember being a very small kid watching Snow White on tv and thinking to myself One day someone will come and love will rescue me from this life. So I got majorly into the whole Prince Charming, "love will conquer all" sort of philosophy. Fairy tales, chick flicks, tear jerkers, sappy music, you name it! it was my life. I distincly remember passing entire afternoons lying on my bed staring at the ceiling and listening to Celine Dion. Or watching Moulin Rouge or Dirty Dancing again, and again, and again.
Then somewhere in my late teens I decided to go cold turkey. No more! Because that sort of behaviour was killing me and absorbing all my life. It was like hitting myself with a hammer. There was a great big threatning button* saying self-destruct and I kept pressing it. Over the years I said to myself, time and again: One day someone will come and then you may watch and read and listen to your love junk for as long as you like. It won't be a threat anymore.
And now the time has come. And guess what? Surprise, surprise, I don't need it. I'm not scared of it anymore - which is brilliant! - but I don't really feel like going there. Ain't that something? I'm so proud of myself...