Nothing ever looks the same from one year to the next. If it does, clearly you’re doing it wrong. Last summer I was alone. Alone, alone, alone. In foreign countries. And honestly, I was a mess. I don’t think I’ll ever be one of these emotionally available, stable, ten out of ten healthy smiley soda commercial type women. But I adapt to change like it isn’t anything at all, and maybe that’s my strength.
The coldest winter I ever experienced was the snow strewn streets of New York in January. I was in love, I thought, and I was seeing my idol in the flesh. I couldn’t be further from that time if I was honestly trying to be.
But I am in love, now.
I didn’t think I would be to be honest. I thought it would be years, I thought I would be alone for the longest time. I avoided anything too earnest.
But chance is a tricky thing, and a lot of things have happened by chance.
The 30th July was my lover’s birthday. We spent the whole weekend together but Sunday was just us, us alone. We wandered round the aquarium together, and under those weird neon type lights they have shining down around the large tanks, I knew how I felt and it terrified me. I may never have told him. I had accidentally said it once in french…while he was doing something very, ah, pleasurable to me with his tongue….luckily language and circumstance protected me that time from my blunder. At dinner I tried to summon the courage. Then I stopped and we ate, smiling at one another across the table, eating the exact same meal and drinking the exact same drink.
If I hadn’t had something to be upset about that evening it might have taken weeks for us to say it. But there was something. A small, stupid thing. Insignificant even. But initially I reacted badly to it. He comforted me. I went for a shower. When I came back, he held me, though I was beaded with water and my hair hung in soaking strings, sending streaks of water down my back,
We laid on my white bed in my dark room and kissed.
My tummy churned because I knew. I’ve laid on my side before. I’ve watched these facial expressions once before. I knew he loved me too and I knew he was going to tell me, right then.
And I knew I was going to say it back.
I worked hard to tell myself not to let this happen. But it happened anyway.
Keep working hard on placement, see friends, don’t see him too often. Avoid avoid avoid. Jesus Christ. It was hard work.
If he said anything sentimental I’d mock him gently. What a bitch. But I caught myself cradling his head if it ended up near my lap. Stroking his face. Thinking about him at work.
My lamp illuminated his eyes as he tried to tell me. He told me it was scary. I agreed that yes, it was scary.
It’s a weird thing when everything is sort of going right and yet you know that there’s an underlying timebomb just waiting, biding its sweet time to decimate everything but who knows when.
There’s nothing really wrong with my life right now. My troubles are quite literally FAR behind me. The growth in my spine is being supposedly controlled with anti neoplastics while consultants discuss the placement and how feasible it is to remove it. I am at a status quo.
What’s weird is the odd sensation I get that I am an imposter in this life that is going a little too well.
I catch myself in certain moments…with my boyfriend or on my placement, and everything is just nice and functional and no one is yelling at me or expecting ridiculous things of me, or accusing me of horrible things I didn’t do, or lying to me and…..it’s kind of weird. Part of me doesn’t trust it. I’ve avoided these kind of….more meaningful connections for like over a year specifically because it’s been hard for me to accept that things aren’t gonna have to go the way they did in the past.
I don’t know where any of this is going. My career will be fulfilling- I know it will, but who knows where it’s gonna take me. That’s one thing. But then, this new relationship is kind of….involving right now. We’re seeing a lot of each other. He’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever been with, the polar opposite actually. He has way more social decorum, way less exhibitionism and just pathologically tells the exact truth about everything. It’s nice. But I’m also kind of afraid of it. It’s a weird headspace.
I guess I’m waiting for him to find out I’m a piece of shit, like super uninhibited, unashamed piece of fucking shit.
But then also….part of me thinks actually no come on I’m not that bad am I? I give time and money to charity, I’ll do anything for my friends or whatever….
I’m not sure I’m really in my body this month, it’s like Capgras syndrome. I’m not in my body, I’m witnessing myself from the outside and I’ve come to believe I’m an imposter and I’m just waiting for everybody to realise and for it all to come crashing down. It’s so hard to be this vulnerable. But then at the same time, when it’s all dark and I’m laying in bed with him and he’s holding me and talking to me in a low voice so as to not wake up my new roommate….i kind of feel shivery and happy and electric and I do want to be vulnerable. And I don’t. And I do. And I don’t. It’s fucking weird.
And I love him. Definitely. And in the light of my lamp we told each other. And we told each other again while we kissed. And again when we….made love? It wasn’t fucking. Not that time, for sure.
And I’m going to experience a colder winter. When I go with him, to Canada to meet his family this Christmas. Holy fuck.