Last night I saw her again. She talked to me and in a whisper of mundane questions, she managed to take away everything I've ever feared. Her smile set my world on fire with the power of a thousand stars and for a moment in time, I was genuinely happy. Not happy - what - if, but happy - happy. And it felt amazing to be able to ignore all the petty problems. With every twirl of her hand, she cast away my worries, replacing them with bittersweet bliss. For a little while, she was mine...
I'll take the sweet pain of knowing she won't ever be truly mine, just for evenings like the last one. In a room full of people, no one else matters to me. I hate how much I've empowered this beautiful soul with every weapon she needs to bring me down on my knees. But I now know there is no other way. She really had me at "hello".
December 28, 2011
December 05, 2011
Everything but me.
Are the ‘old ways’ making a comeback? How many times have you browsed your facebook page only to realise that many of your former high school classmates are now married and with children? Or at least in a long term, very serious relationship. People as young as 24 (such as myself) already sure of the person they want to spend eternity with. Or at least a tiny fraction of it, this lifetime.
It seems to me that only yesterday I was in high school, having a so-called serious conversation with my then best friend about the many challenges life would face us with in the next few years. Of course, the big stepping stones back then were getting our high school diploma and getting into a good college. It was pretty much unanimous, though. Most people our age wanted the same things: a career first and then (maybe) a family. We all wanted fame and success more than anything. We never had conversations about diapers and pacifiers, it was always about offices and cars, planes and expensive restaurants.
Years went by and while we all scattered around the world, I always thought we were united in that one thought: the idea of making something of ourselves. Whilst browsing this social network the other day, I got nostalgic and thought I’d check up on my old friends. People I’ve long lost real contact with. But by befriending them on facebook, I could still keep in touch, reminisce about our golden era and whatnot. Little did I know I was about to get quite the shock. At least half of my former classmates are now married. Some of them have children. Not babies, not toddlers. Children. Old enough to hold a pen in their little hands and scribble their name. And they all babble about the ‘joys of life’, their marriage, offsprings and quiet Sunday lunches with the in-laws.
After the initial jaw-drop moment, I got to thinking. The other half is most likely doing exact what I’m doing. Finding a purpose to life, beyond marital bliss. Building a career, for surely it’s far more important to leave something behind you. Other than a child bearing your surname. Or maybe it’s just me…? Have I gotten so lost in the last five years that I’ve completely missed the point of life? Have I been too blind to notice the little things? In searching for our happiness, it seems that our high school ideas were easily far-fetched. For some. I can’t help but wonder, though. Are they all grown up and happy, whereas I’m still swarming in the childhood pond? Am I grown up enough to realise and admit that for each and every one of us, happiness holds a different definition? Are my old friends still longing for fame and success, despite having the marital status?
While I know it’s a personal choice and everyone has to stand behind their decisions, I can’t help but feel that I’ve been betrayed. In the most metaphorical way possible, of course. I just feel that in choosing to get married straight out of high school or having children at an age where most of them didn’t even know the meaning of life, they all betrayed our once unanimous idea about what life is meant for. Does that mean I think having a career is truer than any other choice? Probably not. But when did it become acceptable to go back to the old ways? When did we start doing what society was telling us to do all along? It feels like we’re moving backwards.
And I've always been a rebel. Remember. The plane takes off against the wind, not with it.
It seems to me that only yesterday I was in high school, having a so-called serious conversation with my then best friend about the many challenges life would face us with in the next few years. Of course, the big stepping stones back then were getting our high school diploma and getting into a good college. It was pretty much unanimous, though. Most people our age wanted the same things: a career first and then (maybe) a family. We all wanted fame and success more than anything. We never had conversations about diapers and pacifiers, it was always about offices and cars, planes and expensive restaurants.
Years went by and while we all scattered around the world, I always thought we were united in that one thought: the idea of making something of ourselves. Whilst browsing this social network the other day, I got nostalgic and thought I’d check up on my old friends. People I’ve long lost real contact with. But by befriending them on facebook, I could still keep in touch, reminisce about our golden era and whatnot. Little did I know I was about to get quite the shock. At least half of my former classmates are now married. Some of them have children. Not babies, not toddlers. Children. Old enough to hold a pen in their little hands and scribble their name. And they all babble about the ‘joys of life’, their marriage, offsprings and quiet Sunday lunches with the in-laws.
After the initial jaw-drop moment, I got to thinking. The other half is most likely doing exact what I’m doing. Finding a purpose to life, beyond marital bliss. Building a career, for surely it’s far more important to leave something behind you. Other than a child bearing your surname. Or maybe it’s just me…? Have I gotten so lost in the last five years that I’ve completely missed the point of life? Have I been too blind to notice the little things? In searching for our happiness, it seems that our high school ideas were easily far-fetched. For some. I can’t help but wonder, though. Are they all grown up and happy, whereas I’m still swarming in the childhood pond? Am I grown up enough to realise and admit that for each and every one of us, happiness holds a different definition? Are my old friends still longing for fame and success, despite having the marital status?
While I know it’s a personal choice and everyone has to stand behind their decisions, I can’t help but feel that I’ve been betrayed. In the most metaphorical way possible, of course. I just feel that in choosing to get married straight out of high school or having children at an age where most of them didn’t even know the meaning of life, they all betrayed our once unanimous idea about what life is meant for. Does that mean I think having a career is truer than any other choice? Probably not. But when did it become acceptable to go back to the old ways? When did we start doing what society was telling us to do all along? It feels like we’re moving backwards.
And I've always been a rebel. Remember. The plane takes off against the wind, not with it.
August 17, 2011
The end of yet another chapter.
It's almost 3am and I can't sleep. As it has happened for the last few days, I find myself wide awake, smiling like a dumbass to no one and nothing in particular. I cruise the halls of this house in hopes that they'll whisper to me, telling me I've done a good job. Which... I know I have. Sixteen months of history back me up on that assumption, so I don't need any other proof.
Yes, it's been sixteen months since I started my journey in the land of Britain. And I've had ups and downs, obstacles and open roads, because hey, apparently that's life. Sometimes I wanted to sing for joy, like when I landed and took a breath of fresh air (yes, yes, you're gonna ask 'WHAT?! Fresh air in London?!' - it was to me! Because it smelt like the much coveted freedom). And then there were those times when I just wanted to crawl under a rock and slowly die, or when I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that life just isn't fair. But I didn't do any of those things. No. I just took lots of deep breaths, hoping that whatever strength I had left was enough to keep me going towards my goal. My first one, anyway. (don't they say you need to set yourself goals on somewhat short terms, so you can actually achieve them? mhmm.)
And ta daaaaa. I've reached it! First base camp on my Everest mountain. Legally allowed to work in this country (unlike many others!). Legally obligated to pay taxes (such a grown up thing to do, lol). Desperately trying to find a job. Happily moving into my new home. Undescribably excited that I, me, Cristina, have reached this point in life.
It may not seem much to the world, but it means the world to me. Having been used to people doing everything for me, I think I've achieved something really important after these sixteen months: independence. And I'm not giving it up! Just so you know.
P.S. I couldn't have done it all if it weren't for all the people that supported me, whether it was from here or from a distance. Even the ones that are no longer a part of my life, you've all shaped me and given me something to think about. So, thank you.
I am now ready to turn the page and start scribbling a new chapter of my life...
Yes, it's been sixteen months since I started my journey in the land of Britain. And I've had ups and downs, obstacles and open roads, because hey, apparently that's life. Sometimes I wanted to sing for joy, like when I landed and took a breath of fresh air (yes, yes, you're gonna ask 'WHAT?! Fresh air in London?!' - it was to me! Because it smelt like the much coveted freedom). And then there were those times when I just wanted to crawl under a rock and slowly die, or when I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that life just isn't fair. But I didn't do any of those things. No. I just took lots of deep breaths, hoping that whatever strength I had left was enough to keep me going towards my goal. My first one, anyway. (don't they say you need to set yourself goals on somewhat short terms, so you can actually achieve them? mhmm.)
And ta daaaaa. I've reached it! First base camp on my Everest mountain. Legally allowed to work in this country (unlike many others!). Legally obligated to pay taxes (such a grown up thing to do, lol). Desperately trying to find a job. Happily moving into my new home. Undescribably excited that I, me, Cristina, have reached this point in life.
It may not seem much to the world, but it means the world to me. Having been used to people doing everything for me, I think I've achieved something really important after these sixteen months: independence. And I'm not giving it up! Just so you know.
P.S. I couldn't have done it all if it weren't for all the people that supported me, whether it was from here or from a distance. Even the ones that are no longer a part of my life, you've all shaped me and given me something to think about. So, thank you.
I am now ready to turn the page and start scribbling a new chapter of my life...
June 19, 2011
Behind the lies.
I gaze into her eyes and I wonder how come we ended up being two strangers, when we used to be so close. She looks at me with a serious expression on her face and after a couple of minutes, in which that awkward silence makes me feel inadequate and small, her features soften and her lips curl into a sweet, shy and sort of sad smile. No, not sad... Knowing. She knows exactly what happened and why, but she's not saying anything, perhaps in an attempt to make me talk about it, when she knows all I want to do is avoid it. I'd run away if I could, but her stare holds me down, despite the smile.
"You haven't been here in a while." She says to me and I lower my head, shameful. She's right, but I don't want to give her that. "Or if you do come around, it's always hurried and hushed, never honest..." She goes on and I have to look her in the eyes now. She's hurting me on purpose, to bring out everything I'm trying to hold back. I bit my lower lip and glance away, letting out a soft sigh, feeling my emotions bubbling up about to spill in a river of undying words, gushing with force. "Maybe I have my reasons." I finally say, looking at her again, matching her smile. She doesn't say anything else, she just stares at me, confident I won't lie to myself anymore.
I see it now... We're the same, me and her. Just because she tries to reason with me and make me understand it's okay to break down every once in a while, it doesn't make us any less different. I pretend she's not there and she pretends I'm not pretending. And she's always there, unforgiving and loving at the same time. It's just a question of which side she wants to show more often.
I blink and then I blink again, the smile growing bigger on my face. "It will be alright, Cristina. You'll be alright, you're strong enough." She says to me and I see our lips moving at the same time, I hear the sound of my voice echoing in the room... And as soon as I nod to that thought, her eyes become soft and silent, like the surface of a tranquil sea. But I know deep down I'll keep lying to myself. It's just that sometimes, I see myself behind all the fake reasons and excuses... Behind all the lies.
"You haven't been here in a while." She says to me and I lower my head, shameful. She's right, but I don't want to give her that. "Or if you do come around, it's always hurried and hushed, never honest..." She goes on and I have to look her in the eyes now. She's hurting me on purpose, to bring out everything I'm trying to hold back. I bit my lower lip and glance away, letting out a soft sigh, feeling my emotions bubbling up about to spill in a river of undying words, gushing with force. "Maybe I have my reasons." I finally say, looking at her again, matching her smile. She doesn't say anything else, she just stares at me, confident I won't lie to myself anymore.
I see it now... We're the same, me and her. Just because she tries to reason with me and make me understand it's okay to break down every once in a while, it doesn't make us any less different. I pretend she's not there and she pretends I'm not pretending. And she's always there, unforgiving and loving at the same time. It's just a question of which side she wants to show more often.
I blink and then I blink again, the smile growing bigger on my face. "It will be alright, Cristina. You'll be alright, you're strong enough." She says to me and I see our lips moving at the same time, I hear the sound of my voice echoing in the room... And as soon as I nod to that thought, her eyes become soft and silent, like the surface of a tranquil sea. But I know deep down I'll keep lying to myself. It's just that sometimes, I see myself behind all the fake reasons and excuses... Behind all the lies.
June 13, 2011
Bullshit.
Every once in a while, I'm reminded I'm not made out of stone, no matter how much I wish for it. Whether it is something as innocent as hitting a lamp post face first or getting rejected for the upteenth time. I want to be heartless, just like I appear to be. Perhaps that is exactly why people hurt me so many times, because they're trying to figure me out; trying to see how far they can go until I break down. Newsflash, bitches. I'm already down, you just don't see it. And if I can help it, you won't ever witness that weakness on my behalf.
But just the same. Every once in a while, I'd like it if you'd stop hurting me. I can be nice and sweet and gentle, just as long as you don't hurt me. But you always do, so I guess it'll be just like this, for all eternity. I'm so tired. Tired of everything, yet again. And just to clarify, this is not over a certain someone. This is over the fact that I keep getting the same thing over and over again and I know, I know. It's me, it's all me. But why should I change. Why. It happened when I was different, it happens now. Logical conclusion: no matter if I'm good or bad, brunette or a redhead, short or tall, self-confident or shy... It'll happen over and over again.
Well, you know what?
Fuck you all. All of you, fuck you. Just don't come back complaining I'm a raging bitch. You made me like this. Enjoy.
Might as well choke on it, too. (:
But just the same. Every once in a while, I'd like it if you'd stop hurting me. I can be nice and sweet and gentle, just as long as you don't hurt me. But you always do, so I guess it'll be just like this, for all eternity. I'm so tired. Tired of everything, yet again. And just to clarify, this is not over a certain someone. This is over the fact that I keep getting the same thing over and over again and I know, I know. It's me, it's all me. But why should I change. Why. It happened when I was different, it happens now. Logical conclusion: no matter if I'm good or bad, brunette or a redhead, short or tall, self-confident or shy... It'll happen over and over again.
Well, you know what?
Fuck you all. All of you, fuck you. Just don't come back complaining I'm a raging bitch. You made me like this. Enjoy.
Might as well choke on it, too. (:
June 05, 2011
Crucify me.
Ha! I'm so tired. But not in the physical way, and that's a first. I'm emotionally drained and I'm afraid my poker face won't hold for long. Not anymore. I have nine more weeks to go and I wish things would stop changing on me. I feel like everyone is so keen to take the rug from under my feet, they all want me to fall and to fail. And I'm scared it will happen. I really am...
I hate it when people change because of their status. I despise it and I wish you'd all stop doing it. Sometimes it happens so quickly, I stare in amazement and amusement. Other times, like now, it completely leaves me stunned. In a very bad way. But alas, I guess I just need to learn, yet again. Learn that I don't really belong amongst people, not these ones anyway. Or maybe I simply don't belong. Could be.
I also hate fakers. People who like to pretend or lie, and then turn around and do exactly the opposite. And I especially hate it when they do it just to be 'cool'. Fuck you, it's not cool to lie about who you are. Just be yourself and learn to deal with it. But either way, that's not something I can change. I'm just putting that out there, for all eternity. Or you know, until blogspot/blogger dies.
And lastly. It's so much easier for me to be angry, than to admit I'm actually hurt. Sad, broken, hurt, alone. Lonely. And there's really no changing that. Because when I tried, I only made myself vulnerable and people ended up hurting me yet again. I'm so tired of that, too. What is this world I live in... Where people like to hurt others for the pure pleasure of it. I desperately want out, but I'm too big of a coward to take action. And that's another thing I'm scared of. One day, I won't be afraid anymore. Of anything.
I guess... I'm just a scared little girl. And there's no one to help me with that.
Unrelated to this post. I miss you so much, my soul's bleeding. Because you're the only one I really need. And this life is so unfair, it makes my heart ache with despair. My soulmate...
I hate it when people change because of their status. I despise it and I wish you'd all stop doing it. Sometimes it happens so quickly, I stare in amazement and amusement. Other times, like now, it completely leaves me stunned. In a very bad way. But alas, I guess I just need to learn, yet again. Learn that I don't really belong amongst people, not these ones anyway. Or maybe I simply don't belong. Could be.
I also hate fakers. People who like to pretend or lie, and then turn around and do exactly the opposite. And I especially hate it when they do it just to be 'cool'. Fuck you, it's not cool to lie about who you are. Just be yourself and learn to deal with it. But either way, that's not something I can change. I'm just putting that out there, for all eternity. Or you know, until blogspot/blogger dies.
And lastly. It's so much easier for me to be angry, than to admit I'm actually hurt. Sad, broken, hurt, alone. Lonely. And there's really no changing that. Because when I tried, I only made myself vulnerable and people ended up hurting me yet again. I'm so tired of that, too. What is this world I live in... Where people like to hurt others for the pure pleasure of it. I desperately want out, but I'm too big of a coward to take action. And that's another thing I'm scared of. One day, I won't be afraid anymore. Of anything.
I guess... I'm just a scared little girl. And there's no one to help me with that.
Unrelated to this post. I miss you so much, my soul's bleeding. Because you're the only one I really need. And this life is so unfair, it makes my heart ache with despair. My soulmate...
May 24, 2011
I'm your Judas.
Long time, no blog. And in lights of recent events (which are way too many to put in a blog, so we'll strictly refer to them as life), I think I may have decided to write more. After all, it's what journalists (aspirant ones, too!!) do, right? Exactly.
Let's see.
There's a soft summer breeze blowing around South London. To me, it smells of freedom, yet it carries so many chains that strip me of my very self, it's ridiculous. I'm about to embark on another adventure, in the same city I so cherish and love, but somehow I'm unsure of whether or not I should do it. Yes, it would be infinitely easier to run back home and hide under some random covers. I quite enjoy thinking about that, especially in those days when everything goes wrong and you just can't see the light at the end of the...said day. Or tunnel, if you wish.
But what's one to do if this is how life goes? It goes on... and it doesn't seem to stop, not even long enough for me to catch my breath and see the path I'm about to walk onto. No. There's no time to be silly like this. The problem is, there is no time. My time to grow up is up and I'm positive I'm not done yet. I'm not self-assured and mature, or pretty enough to be an adult. Or old enough to act like one. And my heart seems to agree with that, as it feels childlike and free. I like it that way, honestly.
I feel like I'm betraying everything I once knew and swore by. Not because I want to, but because life goes on and it's making me make choices. The mature kind of choices. Whatever that means. I'm just hoping I won't wake up thirty years from now, wondering if I did all the right things for the wrong reasons. No, I want to do all the wrong things for all the right reasons. That way I'll make sure there's no regrets. None, whatsoever.
Let's see.
There's a soft summer breeze blowing around South London. To me, it smells of freedom, yet it carries so many chains that strip me of my very self, it's ridiculous. I'm about to embark on another adventure, in the same city I so cherish and love, but somehow I'm unsure of whether or not I should do it. Yes, it would be infinitely easier to run back home and hide under some random covers. I quite enjoy thinking about that, especially in those days when everything goes wrong and you just can't see the light at the end of the...said day. Or tunnel, if you wish.
But what's one to do if this is how life goes? It goes on... and it doesn't seem to stop, not even long enough for me to catch my breath and see the path I'm about to walk onto. No. There's no time to be silly like this. The problem is, there is no time. My time to grow up is up and I'm positive I'm not done yet. I'm not self-assured and mature, or pretty enough to be an adult. Or old enough to act like one. And my heart seems to agree with that, as it feels childlike and free. I like it that way, honestly.
I feel like I'm betraying everything I once knew and swore by. Not because I want to, but because life goes on and it's making me make choices. The mature kind of choices. Whatever that means. I'm just hoping I won't wake up thirty years from now, wondering if I did all the right things for the wrong reasons. No, I want to do all the wrong things for all the right reasons. That way I'll make sure there's no regrets. None, whatsoever.
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