Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.
– Walt Whitman, Song of Myself
Weird – to find myself at this same place again.
Still it’s not the same.
I’ve been wondering about
how much sadness one can take.
And how much disappointment.
The future I have wished for myself seems impossible to reach.
Instead I need to let you go. So you can grow.
You deserve to grow.
What do I deserve?
Do I care about what I deserve, when it comes to you?
I care about loss.
And I care about my dreams that have been shattered.
I care about loneliness.
And I care about
you.
Fairness, right?
Let the one you love become the person he deserves to be.
And maybe let him be this person with someone
else.
Free him of all his promises.
Free him of all the pressure you put on him.
Free him of you.
Let him go.
Because it’s
you.
Is it selfish to ask: ‘and what about me?’
What about the things I had and will have to go through?
What about the way I’ve been feeling?
Cause I feel left out. I am losing.
You don’t owe me anything.
And still
no one can safe me
but
you.
I know you feel like you’ve lost everything.
I have lost everything too.
Because I lost
you.
How long will this sadness last this time?
I have welcomed this deep brokenness like an old friend.
10 years from now, will I still shudder when I hear your name?
Will my heart still sigh in pain
because it remembers
you?
Dear darling
It has always been you.
You stole my heart.
I know it is safe with you.
Whatever might happen.
This is out of my hands.
Nevertheless
I will keep you forever in my mind
and I will miss you
every day
because
I love
you.
I’ve really been feeling so restless recently.
And low. And exhaused. And weak. And stressed. And helpless.
I bet you all know how this feels.
Today, when I actually had so many things to get done, I went to the Zurich lake to sit down for a while. On my own. There were no people, it was freaking cold. And all I did was sitting there, neither even really thinking about anything, nor enjoying the view. I just thought: this is kind of nice here. Peaceful. I guess I just had to get away from things. Although I know there are people with much worse problems than I have. Or people which have much more reason to wanting to get some space to breathe through. I don’t even know what reasons I have to feel so suffocated.
I sat there and started feeding ravens with bread, which I did’t have the appetite to eat myself. And although this sounds so gloomy and weird, I have to admit, I could pretty much identify with those birds.
With the ravens.
They are kind of scary, kind of misunderstood, shunned but at the same time they are quite clever, beautiful and strong – when they fly, they cover the sky in the deepest black color and their wings are sure of their movements, determined to bring them where they want to go.
When they fly, though, they are alone – on their own.
And when they crow they make the most awful sound in the world.
I dunno why but I feel like people have been avoiding me recently.
I don’t know whether I seem so unapproachable or daunting…
but somehow for sure I am misunderstood. Also by the things I say. I feel like everything I say has been judged for the past few weeks. I have to lay every word onto a scale and assess whether I can let it slip out of my mouth or not. A bird in a cage.
I feel also left alone. Left alone with my issues.
I know this is my own fault, because I’d never ask for help.
But sometimes I wish people would see what I need and act accordingly,
not just leaving me alone.
I don’t want to be alone, not when I feel like that.
Because this is when I fall into a hole too easily.
And I am scared of that.
I felt it coming a few days ago – this feeling of heaviness.
I sat in the bus on a Sunday morning at 6 o’clock, after 9 hours of work, and again it was cold.
It was a misty, quiet morning.
And suddenly my playlist picked this song. This old all-time-favourite.
And it made me think of the time when I listened to it most.
And it also made me realise that I didn’t really feel right.
Listening to it soothed me anyway.
But still, I am feeling so out of place at the moment, with so many open businesses
and so many things I want to do and achieve. I have lost track of where to start.
I have lost track of what I think is most important.
I don’t even know in which direction to go. Normally I would.
As soon as I am sure of something, I can act accordingly.
Right now I am lost.
I am floating. I don’t like floating.
And I guess it is also a problem that I cannot put my issue into words.
If anybody asks me, what might be wrong, I can’t say what it is.
And I can’t tell what could help me.
I just wish someone did know the cure, because I don’t know it myself.
And I am too tired to figure it out.
I’ve also been eating crazy amounts of chocolate, drinking more whine and my body is weak.
I have reached a point too low.
I guess it’s part of life and things cannot only be great all the time.
But I don’t need shitty times to appreciate the good ones.
I just need my balance, it drives me crazy if I cannot have it.
Something is wrong and I have to figure this out before it gets any worse.
I don’t want to depress anybody… so I end this here.
I will let you know if I figured this out.
And maybe, if anyone is feeling the same way right now, you know you are not alone.
Let me know when you found a way out.
This is an issue which means a lot to me. It is something I recently discovered to be an issue everyone should be aware of – I discovered it to be a topic which changed my way of talking and communicating and dealing with myself and others. I am going to talk about something which can make you feel better.
This is a post about honesty. This is a post about making apologies.
I still remember an argument I had with my mother years and years ago, as if it was yesterday. I was very young at that time. Still a kid. And we were screaming at each other. It was a weekday evening and I went to bed angrily. It doesn’t matter anymore what the argument was about. But it matters that after a while when I was just about to fall asleep, my mother opened the door – and apologized for the quarrel. At that point it became very clear to me that I also had never wanted to argue. We ended up crying and apologizing – and we went to sleep with a much better feeling than before.
This experience has taught me that saying sorry is never something bad. It is something which demands sincerity, a little bit of bravery and greatness.
It took me years to understand this. I have always been a very stubborn person, sure to stand for my opinions and things I said. It ended up causing me too many arguments and a lot of anger and sadness. Today, with 21 years I have come to a point where I generally hate arguing. I don’t think its worth my time or my energy – all of this negativity. But I also know it is not avoidable.
My understanding for the meaning of apologizing came after very intense arguments with my boyfriend when we screamed at each others faces or ended up walking away from each other. So often, just a few hours after the argument I would feel sorry for it all, or for things I said.
I dunno where this came from. But I guess there was one point where I didn’t have any other choice than saying sorry. So I did. And it turned out to be the greatest thing ever.
Since then I started to be a lot more aware of things I could apologize for.
Even a few days after an argument, I could confront others with suddenly apologizing. I am not holding back on this anymore. I say that I didn’t want to argue, that I am sorry for this or that particular thing I said, or this or that particular thing I did. I have gotten better in doing so, that now, even if I am in the middle of a fight, I can take a step back, look at things and ask myself: “wait? Is that what I wanted? Is this argument worth it? Do I really want to go on like this?” And then I might say sorry just right in the middle of the argument. This doesn’t mean that I apologize for everything. I only say sorry for the things I know I actually feel or will feel sorry about. Sometimes it is everything, sometimes it is just a tiny little thing.
And I tell you. It is worth it. Never has someone I know reacted negatively on it. And for me, as a person who loves harmony and who can hold a grudge not only against others for ages, but also against myself, it made me feel so much better.
Even my boyfriend has been so appreciative of it, that just recently I found him doing the same thing. An argument between us and its aftermaths, which would have usually lasted for days, ended in a blink of an eye. It was so truly great.
Don’t be too proud to say sorry. It is never too late.
I have managed to build friendships again, which had been broken a long time ago.
Just by apologizing.
It is worth it in every way.
And I tell you this is not showing weakness or backing up or trying to get away with something.
It is about second chances and people’s temper, which can so easily get out of control.
It’s about knowing yourself and being reflective and about fixing relationships and not making things worse than they already are. Try it out yourself.
It took me two weeks to finally open my mind, and to let it all go.
To some extent at least.
I felt free, relaxed, no more worries about what I lost. I accepted what had happened – and finally I could breathe again. The distance soothed me and my mind. My thoughts.
Just imagine that at the beginning of the trip, I was still in the middle of it. Giving it another try to reach out to the one I lost. Then… time had suddenly finally healed the worst of my wounds. Because I felt happy there, in the nature, far away from everything, surrounded by so much beauty and calmness and peace.
For the first time since that day, I felt okay with being without him.
And
I just couldn’t be this sad for any longer.
It had become a weird kind of sadness – the kind which covers your heart and doesn’t let go. It wasn’t as heavy as it was in the beginning, it wasn’t as cruel or as painful. Just sadness and regret and a lingering wish that I was only dreaming and that I would finally wake up and he’d still be there.
No more. – or at least less.
I gave as much of my bitterness as I could to the sea.
At first, I remember, I couldn’t even bring my mind to think about it all.
To start processing things and reviving things in a proper and true way.
At some point I watched the waves for ages. And the water went away and then came back to me, over and over again.
And that was when I realised that I didn’t have anything left to say. Not to myself and not to him.
I had talked so much about how much he hurt me, how much I loved him, how much I wanted him back, how much it was all my fault, how much I couldn’t accept it, how angry and disappointed I was, how I couldn’t understand, how I wished I would have said different things, how I wished I was someone else – the one he wanted, how much I appreciated the time we had, and how badly I wanted to forget it, how grateful I was for everything, how much I learned…
So much talking from my side.
This had actually never happened to me before: with all the talking I had confused myself, I couldn’t remember the things he answered and the things I answered to myself. It was all just a sad blurr.
So I stood there, trying to reflect and to come to peace with what had happened
and the situation.
And nothing came to my mind except the fact that it was over between us. And it felt okay.
Because there was nothing to add.
Or nothing left to do.
I did it all. I said it all.
So I stood there all empty. And oh god, it was such a light feeling for once.
I was happy.
And free.
I didn’t even miss him at that moment, because for once, I was truly awake and inward-looking.
I used to do that a lot – self-reflecting and listening to my soul – I didn’t do it for too long.
I always thought he was the only one who could give me peace and who – ironically- could heal my pain.
or if not him, of course… distance and the ocean could.
But it wasn’t true.
It was me.
I am the solution to myself.
And it was right that I did it all – that I did everything, that I didn’t give up easily.
I would have never come to listen to myself and to feel comfortable, if I gave up and just stopped trying.
I had to prove things to myself. That it all was hopeless although I still somewhere deep in my heart had hope;
it was okay.
I accepted myself and life and i felt
so
quiet.
At the ocean, hearing and feeling the waves, staring at the far distance.
It was a good day.
I want to dedicate this post to my friend, who died on 14th of September. She died too young, she didn’t even turn 20. She couldn’t live. There is no fairness in life.
What her death taught me was to live every second you have to its fullest. Love. And be happy. And do things. You can never know when your time will be over – or someone else’s time for that matter. Life isn’t about what you dream, it’s about the dreams that come true. You have to do it yourself. No one else will fulfill your dreams for you.
As you might have read on my blog post “Bali Backpacking” – I was on holiday in Indonesia.
(In that blog entry you can also find loads of pretty pictures, if the read is too long for you)
In Bali there were two encounters I want to tell you about, because they have really stayed with me.
We talked with two men about love and relationships and it made me feel so upset and also even a bit sad to hear their stories.
Apart from that they also made me think about our culture and my personal past.
Let me share their stories with you:
As we watched the sunset at the Beach in Amed we met a local man. He, an owner of a little hostel, asked us – obviously after we’d already talked for some minutes – if it was normal that people from Europe have several partners. He said this because he met several men and also women who went with secret lovers to Bali, telling him they were actually married. I thought it was quite shocking what picture he had from our culture and it was even more shocking to realise that it was impossible for me to convince him that his idea of European relationships was wrong. However he told us, that traditionally in Bali the family decides who marries whom. The girl then has to move into the house oft he spouses family and is bound to make religious offerings every day and to look after the family. He seemed quite regrettable about the fact that he didn’t get the chance to choose his wife. He said, his wife is more like a friend to him, than anything else.
The second balinese guy who told us about love was our driver (about 34 years old). He fell in love with a Japanese tourist who he met during her stay in Bali. She got ill and he looked after her. This is how feelings developed and how he fell in love with her. They had a thing going on during her stay and she even came back once again. But then she vanished in Japan and he would hear later on that she’d eventually got married. Nevertheless his biggest wish is to go to Japan to meet her again, regardless of her being with someone else. He said he doesn’t feel complete without her, and just simply put: sad.
The Balinese people really seemed very gentle to me and I came to realise that love to them is much more valuable than it is to us. In our culture, love is a given, we can love several people, change partners, change our minds – we are a lot more free to act out our love and to explore every side of it. They however dream of a romantic ideal of love, because they don’t get to choose.
Although they still connect the idea of love with happiness, a happiness not all of them will ever experience.
What really made me think was the fact that our driver had fallen in love years ago, and how it still deeply affects him today.
I don’t want to be sad over someone all my life. That’s why we have to fight for what we love. Because we can.
Picture: Printscreen Vlog The Michalaks (check them out!)
I never knew that I could feel constantly sad for so long…
it has already been 3 months – a quarter of a year. Still – no day has gone by without a thought about my lost love, my lost chances.
I’m sorry I let you wait for so long for a new blog post. But I honestly couldn’t bring myself to write one – until now.
I went to see him again. It was a mistake. There was the old connection between us, the brushed arms when we walked past each other, the closeness I yearned for, the stupid jokes about the same old things, his touch.
I collapsed after I left. A few days later I demanded to get answers.
Answers to questions I couldn’t even ask without wondering if I could handle to hear what he would say to them.
He told me – I should let him go.
That I should live my life.
That the timing wasn’t right.
That he would come back once he thinks, he can be the person I deserve.
That he knows it could be too late then.
He told me, I was important to him.
That he had the most wonderful time ever with me.
You know, I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I am not the kind of person who believes much in timing.
I am convinced that ultimately you have to fight and work for what you want to keep in your life.
It’s about what you do. You cannot always look for excuses and you cannot make life itself to one of them.
Nevertheless – I felt defeated.
I tried to accept it, I tried and am still trying because I love him and because I have no other choice.
I cannot force him to love me.
I cannot make him want me.
It all becomes less painful after a while – you become numb, resigned.
I deleted the pictures, stopped myself from thinking about the time we shared, his eyes, his touch or the future I always hoped we would have together.
It’s all gone and it’s all out of my hands.
Nothing I could ever imagine myself doing, is ever going to change anything, or make it work again.
It needs two to love.
Sometimes I even wonder, if what we had was ever true. Now that it is all deleted it becomes so surreal.
Has it ever been there? Has it ever existed? Have weexisted?
I am concentrating on myself now. That’s my biggest advice. Focus on yourself, change things, live. Even though you will go through tough days… don’t call him, don’t text him. Delete the number.
I am waiting for the time, when he’s ready to talk to me again – when he misses me so much, that he reaches out to me and not the other way around. He could be missing me then as a friend, or as a human being or as the one who once loved him. Maybe until then, I am different. Maybe then i can stand in front of him without tears in my eyes – strong.
If he’s moving on, I have to do the same thing. I cannot be left behind.
He says he knows it could be too late. This is what I don’t understand. I don’t understand why he promises me to come back one day, although he has never kept a promise he’s ever made. And why would you let someone go, if you knew it could be too late? I would never push anyone out of my life, if I would intend to let this person back in sometime, knowing it could never happen… because it could be too late. No one would do that, that’s too much of a risk. You keep the ones you love as close to you as you can and never let them go. Right?
I would have never let him go. But he asks for it. He turns around and walks away from me. Leaving me all alone. If I ever want to feel happy again, I have to do what I hate most, what I’ve always been to scared to even think about.
And to be fair, slowly frustration and some sort of anger starts to build inside of me.
It helps me to leave him alone
but I don’t like it, because it isn’t me.
I’m kind.
But I hate not being able to do anything about it. That fighting doesn’t help. That I have to accept the defeat.
I would’ve fought for him forever, if I only saw a glimpse of a chance.
Now I dunno what to tell you anymore. I am literally planning my life. Soon I start Uni, I wanna move out, work more… A fresh start.
Before I end this post I’d like to share with you something which has made me think.
I heard following poem recently. It’s called If by Ruyard Kipling – read out by Hanna Maggs and her husband on their Vlog-channel The Michalaks:
I know this has nothing to do with romantic relationships whatsoever.
Some sentences still stayed with me and I really cannot let them go:
“If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, … If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; … Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
… And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;”
I wondered, if I could ever forgive him what he did to me. If I could ever trust him again.
If I could even let him come back into my life.
I don’t know the answers yet. For the moment I let him figure out, when the time for us is right
– whatever us we are.
I give him the time he needs.
It would be incredibly sad, if this was it.
If this was the end. No contact. Out of each others lives.
Gone.
But on the other hand I am not too sure a broken heart can ever heal, or forget.
It has been five weeks and three days. Up and down and up and down. I tried to distract myself.
It worked sometimes.
At this point, I feel like I have thought about the breakup and about him so much, that I don’t know anymore how I should feel.
I could have the urge to call him, to ask him to take me back. Two minutes later I could completely understand that we can never be together, that we won’t ever work out. Sad, understandable, angry, frustrated, devastated, desperate….
But what I am feeling all the time is a deep loneliness.
This feeling never changes.
I lost my soulmate, the only one, who gave my life a reason. The one I could talk to about everything, the one who was home to me. I lost the one, who made me feel warm and loved and understood.
No one can fill this hole. Not now.
I try to let him go.
I haven’t succeeded yet.
“If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours, if it doesn’t, it never was yours.”
– Confucius, Chinese Philosopher
I have no hope that he’ll come back to me, though. So when I let him go, I let him go. He flies away.
He’s gone. I want him to be free. I don’t want him to be free. I want him to come back. I don’t want him to come back.
This sucks.
I am not sure this is a spoiler – so I guess if you ever consider reading “The Chaos of Stars” by Kiersten White you might not want to read any further… although I am only going to talk about one Quote.
About the books I read on holiday I am going to write a blogpost later.
Here it is:
–
“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d chose you”
–
Aren’t those words absolutely perfect? I mean choice, that’s the thing! I thought about this a lot and about how much I wished that a guy would consciously choose me with all my flaws and all my issues. Commitment. I like the idea about losing one another out of sight and maybe even out of mind but then finding each other again because it has to be – because both want it to be that way. Because the choice has been made and no matter what, if both make the same decision, they will find each other again.
Choices are very powerful.
It’s about making them wisely… and about actually making them in the first place.
If you don’t make a choice, you won’t change anything, you won’t develop and you won’t ever get happy.
Because you cannot become a happy person if you don’t know what you want.
Let’s make choices. Good ones. Real ones.
With our hearts.
