Clearing stuff away

Tidying my room...
I have a room just under the roofs, with my own bathroom and a piano. I have most of my art on the wall, mostly XIXth century engravings and a few reproductions, but also gifts from my sister and neighbour, talented artists. I have a bedside table, which I should replenish with single girl fun stuff (but only after my devout Muslim friend N comes for a visit...) and books everywhere, but no longer on the floor. My desk is empty of crap, and I've stored all the funny, romantic letters and postcards I've gotten along the way in a box at the bottom of a cupboard, to read when I'm ready.
I feel so much better.

My most precious item is probably my inflatable moose head, which has followed me from Chicago to Paris, and hopefully to Berlin. And next to it there is the letter S, spray-painted blue with my ex at a time where I was pretty blue, and my father was dying in the hospital. I'd get hopped up on sleeping pills and try to jump on X and fall asleep in the middle of it.

See! I'm laughing about all these memories.

My first boyfriend never spent any time at my place, because he felt uncomfortable here. So no memories there.

Here's to a year of good living, money saving for travel and happy studies.

I want it back

My life, that is.
I want my appetite back. I want my laughter back. I want everything that made me happy back. I can't believe how distraught I am by my breakup. I know we are done, I am not in denial, so why am I not moving on in my head?
I need help here. My friends are busy, my family is nice but I have bugged them enough. How can I go on with my oral exams in 5 days???

Breathe.

My grandmother is dying. She is old, so her cancer could kill her slowly, or fast. She was telling me how each day is precious. I should live like that.

I don't need X to live, but our love gave me so much strength, so much confidence in the world. His cleverness lit up my world. His smile made me melt with desire and trust. He pushed me harder than anyone...and hugged me longer than anyone.

I'm tired of all this pain. I want to heal, but I'm still in love, still miserable, still lost.
Is it normal to be this sad?

Leaving

I'm leaving Lyon tomorrow for good. I'll come back a few times to pick up my stuff and handle electricity and internet questions, but I won't be coming back to my house, my place. It will be his.

Dear X,

I love you. I love you with all my heart. I wish you the best, everything you want, and I am so grateful for the happiness we've shared. I will miss you.
I hope we will find a way to be good friends to each other, and that I will get over you soon. It's difficult to force yourself to stop loving someone, but when they don't love you back, it's pointless to stay fixated on the past. I will move on, but first, contrary to you, I need to mourn what we had to do so. Everybody does it his or her way, isn't that true? While you need to see other girls and have casual sex, I need to DO stuff. Write, read, be productive.

You still care for me. We get along so well. Sometimes this breakup makes little sense to me, and then I remember your words: "the passion is gone", "I'm not happy with you."You've made a choice and it will make you happier.

Love,

Sa

End of the week

Only a few more days before I leave this town. Work, music, work. I am happier than I have been in weeks, my heart no longer heavy, my appetite coming back, the world making sense.

Working days

Wrote a chapter of my novel. Still a bit Eeyore, but will soon perk up.
Studied for exam.
Watched co-students get drunk and high.
Did not get either drunk or high.
Sang a Leonard Cohen medley with Mathias, who was particularly drunk and high.
I should learn how to play the guitar, I would get all the girls.

Only 24 days before I'm done with the year.
Only a month before I party with Yeli for her birthday.
Only a month and a half before I get my German on.

So many plans for next year. I can't wait.

Letter to myself:

I'm proud of conquering my fears day after day, of waking up with a smile, of kicking ass. I'm proud of my brains, proud of my quickness, proud of my tiny legs, proud of not believing everything I'm told, proud of being a feminist, proud of being a champagne-swilling, world-changing, granola-eating idealist, proud of pushing myself a bit more every time.

I'm proud of myself. It took a long time, right? Whatever the future holds, I will have this, this knowledge that I can take it, the loss, the grief, the betrayal, the dizziness of life.

I'm proud of having taken the risk of falling in love and proud of my pain, proud of my humanity. I'm happy I can forgive myself, for mediocrity and lies. I'm happy I can go beyond the mediocrity and lies of others. I'm so glad I can get to know people on a deeper level than most, even when shy and awkward. I take emotional risks, and I pay for it. But in the end, I have beautiful friendships.

Thank you, self, for being proud of me. And now, work.

Irony

My current situation reminds me a lot of what the lovely Britni was saying on her blog a few weeks ago. I give advice I find difficult to follow to my sister, who is also going through a rough time with her ex-girlfriend. The ex is with another girl, yet keeps texting and calling J to tell her how much she means to her, etc. I tell J to cut her off, stop answering her calls.

Wish I found it easy myself.

My ex is not a piece of crap like my poor sister's former girl. He is a lovely man in so many ways, which is probably why I'm still hurting so much almost a month afterwards. But once I get to move out of this town, I will not talk to him. I need to move on, forget his horrid new girlfriend, and be a happy single girl. All this will happen. I know it will. When I follow my own advice.

YAY

Success! I'm in for the orals.
Yup, after months of neglect, having a boyfriend avoid me, ridiculous E double-step me, I'm still good.
I'm going to kill the orals, bitches.

up/down

It's been up/down a lot in Saraland. I'm sad half the time and OK the other, angry half the time and indifferent the other, lost half the time and determined the other.
I need help. I need help right now. I feel that I am breaking down so slowly I hardly notice it, that my heart is in such a turmoil it can hardly function. Eating makes me queasy, running makes me dizzy, thinking makes me cry.

X is having dates with our neighbour, dates with his Rebound Fuck, dates with his friends and I feel so lonely and unloved, so useless and stupid, not because of his social life but because I miss him. I miss him so much. I miss being comfortable with him and hate the feeling he gives me at the pit of my stomach. I hate seeing him so gorgeous it makes me want to kiss him, and having nothing more than a pat on the head.

When will this end?

I have the results of my exams tonight and will know if I get to do the orals. Please, O knowledgeable deity from the future, let me get this silly exam so I can move out of my town, away from him and go kick ass under another clime.

I love you. I love you so much. And I will let this go, please.

Please.