Today is sunday. About 10:30 am. I'm on a coach to Gatwick Airport after what has been - bar none - the best week of my life. Nearly two hours since I kissed the wolf goodbye. Now, after I've cried an embarassing amount of tears, the sun is starting to shine. Despite everything it's a nice day for travelling. It's heart breaking to be torn away from the arms of the person you love, but still - as I gaze upon this ever more familiar landscape - I see hope on the horizon. We survived another week together. We grew stronger, we made soup! More and more I feel that the path I chose is the right one. And when reality becomes too hard to face all I have to do is focus on the finish line. Because the truth is I don't want to go home, I only go because I have to. Because there are things that need to be finished in the motherland before I can strech my wings and claim my life as my own. Beside him. Always and every day.
You know you are truly, deeply loved when your partner takes you to Stratford-Upon-Avon (Shakespeare's birthplace) on your birthday, buys you a mini poster of Kenneth Branagh playing Henry V and doesn't mind cancelling dinner reservations when you feel a bit sick as night is falling. And then when you get home he makes you tea and takes a birthday cake shaped like a TARDIS from the fridge. That's true love, I tell you. Or at least a pretty amazing birthday.
I feel dry. Empty. I have given all that I had and now there is nothing left. Not even for me. It seems (sadly more often than not) that my life is not my own. That in the list of priorities I come last. And I'm tired of feeling used. I'm tired of giving up my life for people who clearly don't appreciate (or even acknowledge) the effort. I am hollow when - at this point in life - I should be bursting with life, stretching my wings, starting my life in so many new and different ways. And it's sad to feel over 50 when you're just about to turn 25.
I've been pushing and pushing for a long time. Outwards, outwards! A new experience with the internship, leaning a new language, dealing with banks and finances and social security stuff, moving to a different country... Change, change, change! And in the midst of all this I realize that sometimes there's nothing like coming home and spending an evening reading in bed. My old turf.
I have the greatest person by my side. I do. And sometimes I still wonder why that is. My jaw drops and my mind goes blank. After all I'm just a meerkat (of course there isn't such a thing as just a meerkat, but you get my point). I believe he deserves the very best and Lord knows I don't think so high of myself. I could point out my flaws from here till Judgement Day there are so many of them. And so sometimes I think I'm not enough. But then he comes and I give him my all and between smiles and sighs and what's said and done (or not) I really do feel that I must be.
I'm not an easy person to follow. (People who know me are all nodding right now). I'm really not. My line of thought is not a line at all, but rather a very badly made and very twisted ball of yarn. It's like having a car at 200 kilometers per hour on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no signs or map to help you. That's how hard it is to follow me when I talk and don't have the muggle switch on. And I always feared no one would ever want to stick around long enough to want to try and understand me. I was too darn twisted and I scared people away. Then he came. And he got me. Well... he got my references and he was interested a-plenty to make the effort. To be honest, it's not always peachy, we do have to meet in the middle. But then again, that's so close to home and this is such a wonderful thing that it's really not a bother. I love him. And for the first time in my life I'm not afraid of whatever I might say. Because even if I mess up we can always talk it over. And that's something so new and so great :)
I have a problem. My phone is a jealous bastard. Every once in a while it goes beserk and decides which calls and messages I should (or not) receive. It is enfuriating! And I've had it checked - obviously nothing was found to be wrong with it. One would think the bloody thing is doing it on purpose! Once I had the phone right by my side while I was studying, it was nearly 16h. Then at 16:10 I receive a message (how cheeky of it!) saying somebody tried to contact me at 16:09. Ridiculous, right? And the worst of it all is that ALL my phones eventually start doing this. It's like I have some kind of vibe that messes them up! Honestly, one of these days the stupid thing is going to have a very cathartic (for me) and lethal (for it) encounter with a sledgehammer.
Apparently thurday has become movie night. Today's treat was The King's Speech. All I have to say is: suberb. I have no idea who Tom Hooper is but I certainly like him. Very well done indeed! The soundtrack was a bit overhasty at times, but that's pretty much the only bad thing about it.
I loved Colin Firth, but then again, I always do. Was shocked last year when he didn't get the oscar (I'm sorry, I saw Crazy Heart and it wasn't all that good) and hope this year the academy comes to their senses. Magnificent performance, I say. Nerve-wrecking at times, which made it all the more brilliant to me.
Adored Geoffrey Rush, but then again, the same applies. To me the man is always brilliant and so far I have loved every single role I've seen him play (apart from the Zeta-Jones-Clooney chick flick disaster).
About to the others I have very little remarks. Helena Bonham-Carter will be Helena Bonham-Carter, and that's always good. And this time she decided to play nice, this being one of the least excentric roles I've seen her play. Very nicely impressed with Timothy Spall's Churchill. Also, a tiny part of me was sad we got to see so little of Jennifer Ehle, but oh well...
As to the movie itself - a must-see. The most adorable thing I've seen this year. Loved it, loved it, loved it :)
Another Valentine is coming up. The commercial frenzy has begun for a couple of weeks now. And even though this year my life is astoundingly different from last year, I still don't give a damn about it. It doesn't really mean anything, does it? It's just a stupid convention. The day we first walked hand in hand, the day we started dating, etc, those are the dates one should remember. But this? This just isn't worth our attention.
Today has been one of those days when you feel like the world has eaten you up, chewed you and then spat you out. Like anvils kept raining down on your head and all you had to protect yourself was a tiny pink umbrella. But I survived it. And in the immortal words of Scarlett O'Hara, tomorrow is another day. So I'm going with the babysteps approach, at least for now. Because right now my life is too much of a mess to see the big picture without wanting to sit on the floor and sob. But see if I won't conquer it all...
Tonight as I was finishing a scarf and watching tv I came across Glee's Duets episode. I gotta say I have a soft spot for this episodes. Everytime I catch it on tv I get butterflies in my stomach. Why? you might ask. Not just because it has three numbers from three great musicals, but mostly because it always takes me back to the first time I saw it. I was in a plane trying my best not to look at my swatch every couple of minutes. The roaring of the motor made it hard for me to listen to the songs and right when Le Jazz Hot started I switched off the mp3 player; it was too great a song and it deserved better audio conditions. I finished watching to the other half in a coach bus on my way to Digbeth station. Butterflies in my stomach, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched night fall, knowing I was getting closer and closer to my destination and to the arms of someone I love with all my heart and soul. And it's that feeling of antecipation, of deep longing that I still get with that episode. Especially now that we're only 15 days apart.
Usually when you leave therapy you feel lighter. Things that have been pressing you down have been blurted out and discussed. You see light at the end of the tunel. Tonight wasn't the case. Tonight I entered emotionally exausted and numb but otherwise ok and fairly put-together and left a total mess. I left with a clear vision of what the next six-ish months will be like and it shook me to my core. And it's not a matter of strength; I know I can get through it. I just really don't want to. And I deserve so much better.
Having read mixed reviews I didn't really know what to expect from it. Yes, it would be dark, and yes, I would probably jump off my seat a couple times.
Well, as it turns out, I liked it waaay more than expected. I'm not really a hater or a lover as I've seen out there in the web. I wouldn't say it's an absolute must-see. I appreciate the brilliance of it (because it is indeed amazing), but it's not for every one. I mean, it's a movie about a neurotic ballerina that being the perfect Odete (the white swan) is struggling to interpret Odile (the black swan). Not really for every taste, I'd say...
Natalie Portman is nothing short of brilliant, but then again - to me at least - she has become one of those actresses that you just expect to see excel herself every time. A bit like Meryl Streep. So, when you just get into your head that whatever she does she'll be brilliant at it... it kinda sucks the fun out of it, I'm afraid...
So... four stars, I'd say. It deserves every single oscar it's nominated for. Oh, and a minor aspect - it certainly puts a person off the idea of losing weight after so much skin and bone.
Decided to trying running before going to bed to see if it would help me unwind. Now, as I was getting ready to step on the treadmill I realised I don't have enough light to run. Don't get me wrong but running in the dark with high chances of falling and being instantenously thrown against a bookshelf... it's not really my thing.