Tuesday, August 27, 2013

What if...

---this is pure work of fiction---
This blog is usually to give order to my thoughts, and the events described are ones that happened.
This ain't. It's just some personal rambling, and things I wish would happened, so I wrote them down like it was a story; that is how I always exorcize my demons.


Oh gosh. Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh.

I have been imagining -dreaming- this moment for months. Never thought it could actually happen. And now I am panicking. Of course! What do I do?!

You're standing there, nonchalantly; staring at the air or something I can't see, your hat just like I remembered it -or maybe it's a different one, who knows.
Ok, this is it. It's the perfect chance, I can't let it slip away. I have to talk to you. I have been obsessing about this, hoping to see you again, expecting you around every corner; it's not like I can walk away now, I'd regret it forever. Again. Goddammit, it can't be that difficult, can it? 
I can still recall the feel of your hands on my hips and the salt of your sweat on my lips. This would just talking. And we're in public. Ok, that doesn't count, given what happened last time.
On we go.

Luckily, there's plenty of people around us -but not too many as to make difficult to make my way through the crowd, just enough so you don't see me walking towards you.
And then I'm there standing, and while I work up the courage to actually say something, you must have sensed my presence, because you turn towards me.

"HI-" I falter.
"Hiya"- and you brush away the hair from your eyes like you always do.
Damn you and that accent Irish accent of yours - sweet and thick like caramel and I swear, it has the same effect on me. If I didn't know what to say before, this sure isn't helping.

While my brain panics while searching for something plausible to say -anything, at this point; you discretely yet obviously look me up and down in what I hope is an appreciative manner. You look amused, possibly because by now I must be blushing like a fire idrant.
"Maybe you don't remember me..." I start .
"Oh, I sure remember you" and then that half grin again. You have no intention of making this easy on me, are you? Dammit.

I was already prepared to explain the circumstances of our last (and first, at it) meeting, to buy myself some time and see if it rang any bell for you; and if it did, just with which feelings you recalled it. Were you mad at me for running off like that? If you didn't recollect who I was - where did we meet, what did we do - I could have just left with some excuse.
But now you have me cornered -although not quite literally, not this time- and I have to come clean.

"...I am sorry I left like that." The million excuses I had made up in my mind, all the things I thought of telling you back then, are gone now. You keep silent, apparently determined not to help me in one bit (are you still upset? If you ever were?). Or maybe you just want to see what am I getting at. About that, I am not even sure I know myself; so good luck to you.
"If it helps, I have been regretting it since then.-" Still no response. Dammit man! "So I was wondering..." I hesitate, trying to read your expression (and failing, so I continue) "...if you'd like to have coffee some time. Maybe. That is, with me." - now I can feel the redness creeping up my neck to my cheeks and I feel even more silly; but I can't take my eyes off of you, craving for an answer and trying to get any hint of one from your face.

You don't reply, for those that seem like endless minutes but probably are just a couple of seconds; then your beard splits in a flash of white teeth and you're smiling -nay, grinning- at me. "I would like that very much."
I smile back to you -really, I don't even want to know how ridiculous I look right now- and I mumble something ;"Good", possibly. Then I turn to leave, trying to hide just how wide my smile is and how happy I am - I don't even know why. "Wait!" and I feel the slightest touch of fingers on my wrist, like your hand went to take it and you changed your mind halfway through. 
Maybe you changed your mind about all of it? Maybe all this was a play, you're just making fun of me. Or a sort of sick revenge. Now you're going to ask my name, because you don't know -ultimately- who am I, and how do we even know each other. I knew I had to leave it like it was, I should have never come and talk to you; this could only have ended badly; why did I even do it!?

"How about you leave me your number?- " I feel a rush of relief so sudden and so overwhelming that I am surprised I'm even still stranding up straight. Which is not unusual, when you're around. "I let you go once, I am not making the same mistake again.".

Sunday, August 18, 2013


I am writing this because I need to say some things, and for ...reasons, I cannot tell them directly to the person they're addressed to. So, I'll write them here instead, that maybe they'll weight a bit less on my heart. And who knows, maybe he's reading (I doubt it).

"What is that you want from me?
I truly don't know, I don't understand.

I haven't heard from you in almost a week, and whereas everyday you 'like' something on my facebook, or leave a comment; I had gotten used to receive your goodnight message [see, this is all your fault. I hated it when it was happening! I hated getting used to it, and liking it. I knew I was right.] although it seems like a lifetime ago when it happened.
What has changed? What have I done? Was it me? Or is it just you? Has your interest just faded? Or did I do something 'wrong'?
Because, in my head (how I look back, and analyze, surely overthinking everything, I reckon) this has begun after I started opening up to you. And, you know, it was you that said to do that. You 'accused' me of never sharing, of never talking about my experiences. So I did. I opened up -like I never, ever do; especially with someone I barely know- and I told you stuff. Things I haven't told anyone, or barely so. I have shared, and trusted. And now you're gone, and I don't understand.

I don't regret anything, you know? I have always been honest, and sincere; and my true self. And I am 'proud' proud to say that I don't regret anything I've done, anything I've said. What you've seen is me, and if you don't like it, if I was more fascinating when you knew less; I am sorry, but there is really nothing I can do about it.
I am sorry because I really like you, I am interested in you.
I want to talk to you, and be with you; and yes, have sex with you. I want to see you, to touch you, to kiss you, just to be around you; because I feel comfortable and safe.

And I thought it was the same for you. You said it was, you behaved like it was. It seemed like you couldn't have enough of me. 
Maybe it was.

I don't believe any of the bullshit that my friends want me to; the pathetic chick-flick excuses that come to mind 
"He likes you too much, he doesn't want to get involved, he's scared of the feelings he could develop for you, he wants you too much and if he was around you he could not resist, and you'd end up doing things he'd regret."
That's honest crap.
You like some one, you reach for them. You want to see them.
You don't? Not interested. Easy as that.

And then there are the things you do say.
Every once in a while, when I do talk to you.

The things I keep thinking about, and that I just cannot let go; against my own better judgement, because they give me 'hope' (although it's not hope, not really. More like doubt instead. Ok, hopeful doubt, if anything like that exists) that maybe, after all, you do care.
Things like
"I think about you more than it's healthy" (is it true, that children and drunken speak the truth?)

"You have no idea how much [talking to you] means to me".

And then you just disappear for days.
What. The. Fuck.

See, and  it's not even about sex. It's not about "...what's going on between us?"
I've 'given up' on that already - if I ever had any expectations (not really).

I don't even have any doubts anymore (those I did have, for a long time); I don't ...'obligated' to you in any way -if I will get the chance to be [as in have sex] with someone else, I'll take it, no second thoughts- although of course I am still attracted to you (see, how foolish I am. For me nothing has changed. I will still feel a tingle and a wave of relief take me over if you text me or something; because of course I am still interested.). But, even as friends -why? What happened? What has changed?
Because, you see, I know it has to do with me. It has to.
Because you talk to your other friends (my friend) everyday. So it cannot be that you 'need time for yourself'. Or don't have time at all, or are not online; or I don't even know what other crappy excuse.
It's me you don't want to hear from, or talk to.

I think I deserve an explanation, of any kind.
Just tell me what's going on, at least I'll stop wondering.
I don't want anything from you, honest.

But, how how hazy and shady the relationship between us has been, I think I deserve at least this explanation. Because you refuse to give me any when I try asking, and I am tired of trying.

But I still care, damn me."

Saturday, August 17, 2013


It has always fascinated me, the distinction that English language gives between "alone" and "lonely". 
Having Italian as my mother language, for example, I can tell you we don't have such distinction. The word you use is always the same "solo/a", and you have to add a verb - "sentire" - when you want to express loneliness: as in, "I am alone" vs. "I am feeling lonely".

Of course, one can feel lonely even in company, and being fine with being alone.
I usually am. 
But there are other times, the loneliness gets to me so much it hurts.
This is one of those times.

These days, I feel like I am stuck in a limbo of sorts.
I am waiting to go back to work, for my classes at uni to start; and right now there's quite literally no one I know in town (ok, there's two people, but I chose not to count them for reasons).*
I am scared, and waiting and possibly slightly bored.
More than anything, I could do with a friend, and I really don't know where to turn- I feel like I have no one.

*one of them, I desperately wish he was here.
the other one, I don't really care much for.

Now, this is my blog and no one (no one that I know anyway) is probably going to read it anyway, so I might just as well be honest.
Of course is not true I have no one.
I still have friends (well, sort of) in Italy, and I have my parents, and my best friend... I guess if there was something really wrong I could go to them.

Thing is, there isn't. It is a sort of discomfort that I know exactly where is it coming from, and I know they can't do anything about it anyway.
Plus, I feel selfish arrogant bad (?), but ... [how can I put this?
Sometimes, with all their love for you, you know that those people (I know mine, you know yours) just can't give you what you need. Maybe they don't won't even understand you, understand what the problem even is.
So, to save the both of us from being miserable, and myself from feeling even more lonely, I'd rather just be on my own and fix this one myself.
There's nothing more despicable than turning to the people closest to you, and realizing that they just f*cking miss the point. It makes me feel completely ... I don't know, eradicated. Alien.
It's like... "You're the person that's supposed to know me better than anyone, that I can confess myself to completely; how can you get me this wrong? How can you not understand? Don't you know me at all?"

I am feeling lonesome.
It is the loneliness that comes from not having anyone around, and the bare need for support.
Unspoken, un-worded, pure presence: hug me and hold me tight, let me know that I am not alone, after all. 
Phisical contact. The vicnity of another human being you can just ... be with. The closeness that comes with it, and the comfort. It is heartwarming and benefical.
I don't have that, and I crave for it.

[Since I am being honest, let's be it 100%-  this feeling is, of course, enhanced by the fact that I have a very particular person in mind that I would like close to me right now, and he's not being collaborative; hence adding to my despair.]

This is what pets are for. They sense your discomfort, and they cuddle up to you.
Except my cat, he's (well, first of all, he's back in Italy, and) an ass; and whenever I feel cuddly and in need for affection, he has clearly decided that he has better business to attend and refuses to sit on my lap and being pettet. 
And this is another point:

I could ask, I guess; but I don't want to.
Some things should not be asked! They should be just offered, easy as that!
In an ideal world, I would have someone close to me that would understand my mood, and would offer to watch movies and cuddle under a blanket together. Or just sit close to me while we mind our own business, but kiss me every once in a while.What the heck, even going out for coffee. A random phone call.

I could do all of this, I could ask for it.
But, first off- that's not the point: I want these things spontaneously offered, and it's not the same if you have to ask for it. As one of my friends would argue - "yeah, but if you ask, you get what you want". It's not the same! It's like... the difference from a surprise present and one picked from a whishlist. Yeah, the surprise may disappoint you (or, in my case, you may not get the attentions you need - as I don't), but the point is, if it doesnt't, you know how much the other person cares for you. I need to know that I am cared for. Easy as that.

Secondly... if you ask, and you are refused; it hurts so much worse. Because if you don't ask, you can at least keep thinking (or pretending) that "They didn't know", or "They didn't understand" (they, or he, or she).
But if you ask - if you put your heart right there out, and it's left there... it hurts like hell. It's feezing, out there.

That's why I won't ask.
That's why I won't turn to anyone and speak my distress.
That's why now I'll go and make myself a cup of tea, get under a blanked and watch The Lord Of The Rings all day long.
Because I can not stand to be rejected.
Because I know I can do it on my own.

To prove myself that I am good enough, and strong enough, and I will get through this, like times and times before, and times and times again like I know they will come in the future.
I am enough.

But sometimes is also okay to feel lonely, and want to cry; and you can do that.
And no one will be here to see me anyway.