Imagine how much earning potential there would be if some people paid rent for the amount of space they take up in your head.
,,Und wenn Du einfach nicht mehr kannst, komm zu mir und Ich bringe Dich nach Hause.”
Das hat er mir immer gesagt. Nicht nur einmal besoffen, momentan verliebt.
Egal ob wir mit Freunden oder bei der Arbeit waren, oder ob seine Frau im anderen Zimmer stand. Nie wird er mich verlassen.
So oft hat er mir diese Worte gesagt, so klar und offensichtlich, dass sie zu einer Leitmotif unserer Beziehung geworden sind.
Interessant, wie mächtig Worte sind; was sie für Bedeutungen tragen.
Ein Satz, eine Gedanke.
Wie weit wir gekommen sind, seitdem er das erste Mal die Worte gesprochen hat, ist unmassbar. Unfassbar. Kaum zu glauben. So vieles ist uns Passiert. Unsere Geschichte.
Wenn man sich mit einem verheirateten Partner findet, entdeckt man jawohl neue Perspektive. Wir sind alle so gewöhnt daran, dass uns Sachen gehören–ob Dinge oder Menschen, jeder hat seins.
Ich werde nie meinen Liebhaber haben können. Zu findest nicht physisch. Sein Geist, seine Energie, gehören mir stattdessen. Beide sind Sachen, die ich nur spüren kann. Anfassen, berühren, behalten–niemals. Ich muss sie immer wieder loslassen.
Unsere Zeit zusammen ist ein Wind, der durchs Fenster kommt; die Blätter der Bücher bewegen sich, die Luft des Raumes wird erfrischt, eine Flamme des Kerzens tanzt. Aber sobald er Weg ist, ist alles wie zuvor. Kein Spur das er da war. Nur Erinnerungen.
October 26, 2017
“And when you simply cannot carry on anymore, come to me, and I will bring you home.”
He always said this to me. Not just once, drunk and momentarily in love. Always. It did’t matter if we were with friends or at work, or if his wife was standing in the other room. He would never leave me.
He said this so often that this sentence became a leitmotif in our relationship. It’s interesting how powerful words are; what they carry for meaning. One sentence, one thought.
How far we have come since he said those words to me for the first time is immeasurable. Unbelievable. So much has happened to us. Our Story.
When one finds herself involved with a married partner, one discovers many new perspectives. We are all so used to having things that belong to us–if things or people, everyone has their own.
I will never be able to have my lover. At least not physically. His soul, his energy belong to me instead. Both are things that I can only feel. Reaching out to touch, place my hands on, be able to hold on to–never. I must always let them go again.
Our time together is like a wind that comes in through the window; the pages of books move, the air in the room is freshened and renewed, and the flame of a candle dances. But as soon as it is gone, everything is just like it was before–no trace that it was ever there. Just memories.
Ready to move on? Not into it anymore? Looking for honesty? Here is a productive way to be honest and truthful without being hurtful.
“I’ve given this a pretty extensive amount of thought and, even though there is a lot about you that I really like, I think there are some things that cannot be reconciled. Also, I am very aware of the change in energy. It’s not what’s once was, and we aren’t in the same placee, on the same train of thought, that we were last week even. So, I think it is best to call it a lovely experience and recognize that it isn’t what either of us want or need anymore. I’m so glad I got to know you. You gave me incredible knowledge and I am so grateful for that. I am happy to have shared with you what I did.”
For individuals who give credence to the energies of organisms, the intricate and nuanced working of such is undeniable. In fact, Buddhists believe that everything in the universe says “om”: my being, my mug of coffee, the tree next to me, the table at which I sit. All of it is pulsating “om” into the universe. Those energies intermingle and mix together and create the atmosphere. I am not a Buddhist, but I do believe their is a lot of profound truths to be found within this particular set of beliefs. Because, as many may know, I am a firm and ardent believer in energy.
The most powerful element of being a human being is meeting another human being whose energy connects and aligns with yours. It can be a man or woman, and it doesn’t happen all that often. But when it does, something beautiful is created; friendships, partnerships, a love, respect, connection unlike any other. Not necessarily a soul mate, per se, but certainly the energies speak to the souls of the other in some strong and powerful way.
When I think of the story that has brought me to the situations and locations in which I have met the energies and souls that move me, it is almost comical. It is most wondrous how such dark, laborious periods can ferry me to a place of inescapable beauty and light. Unsuspecting is also a key word, here. I didn’t realize I was in the place of synergy until it walked right up to me and told me so. Or maybe, I didn’t allow myself to realize; I kept it to myself, and quietly let it bide inside of me.
Biding; I’ve done a lot of that in the last bit of time. If nothing else, this segment of my life has taught me a tremendous amount of patience and presence. It is timely, to be sure. And, though exasperating and frustrating, infuriating almost, it has been relevant and mind changing. Stepping back from the things—because they were mere things—that I focused all of my desires on, has allowed me to have clarity and refocus. And, because of that, I have found things that have changed me, moved me, recreated me. Humans, souls, energies, loves. The very synergy of human life.
There is so much to this story, and there is no good place to begin. Where would the beginning be, anyway? I forget where we were. And I am not even quite sure where I am. But, things come to me. They come, and they go. But something else comes in its place; a piece of knowledge or a memory of the way things once were, or some realization about myself. To live life is such a powerful happening.
Thoughts and emotions create a powerful set of beliefs and, ultimately, some kind of alternate reality in a lot of ways. About anything, really. I mean, I have literally had the experience of hating a certain dish at a restaurant, going back a few months later and having it again in different company, and finding it perfectly satisfactory. The notion that the company in which you find yourself can change the wiring of your brain is almost nuts. But it is true. It is, because we are perceptive beings, and once that perception is built, it is bloody difficult to change.
How many times I have found myself in a situation with someone I was in a relationship with (this instance, especially), and my mind and body were screaming at me to walk away; the argument, regardless of how passive or harmless it may have appeared, was not going anywhere good. In fact, it was a perfectly packaged inkling of how the future would undoubtedly play out. “Go! Walk away! Get the fuck out while you can!” the logical part of my brain and my inner energies scream. And the lonelier, weaker part of myself says, “Give it a chance, it will be okay. Things will come around back to the way they were.” And why is that the weaker part of myself knows how to manipulate or quell the stronger, more real part? What the fuck is that anyway? Frustrating as hell; that is exactly what it is.
The saving grace in all of this, though, is that my energy catches up with me and calls bullshit on my weakness. And thank God, because it saves me from making catastrophic mistakes that will do days and months of damage if left unattended and unaddressed.
Here is an example, fresh off the press inside my head:
On my way home after a long day of work, thoughts, and extras, the notion that things aren’t what they once were with the guy I’m seeing is something that I just can’t shake. Yes, I’ve already established that he’s not my person. I have not forgotten this. On the contrary, thank you universe, today was a blessed, if not brutal, reminder. The guy that was telling me how beautiful, intelligent, fun, interesting, amazing I am, willing to cuddle me, wants to hold my hand in public and kiss me and let everyone know how he thinks about me—he’s not doing that anymore. Not today, anyway. Not since he left my flat yesterday.
We. Are. Fucked.
Not because my ego is now suffering from attrition or withdrawals—please, I am made of stronger stuff. No, what it tells me is that something has shifted. His feelings, our destiny, the potential—any of it, all of it. The truth is, the way we were talking on the phone this evening was—holy Christ—absolutely and positively sterile. Not the same two people from Friday. It has been a downward hike, a gradual one, since Friday night. Gradual enough to where I might not notice it. But, today, there was no way around it—or I wouldn’t let myself go around it. Why? Because I would say a big “Adieu” to my own personal happiness if I went along with it. And, polling the room (weak side of me, shut the hell up!), why on Earth would I do that?
I wouldn’t, and I won’t.
Theres is a silver lining though. Hard fact is, no, it isn’t going to work. I am on my own again. But, thanks to this same chap, I know even more of what I’m about when it comes to being in tune with myself and what I can stand and tolerate. That is huge. It is nice to know me better. It is a privilege that I don’t always have the presence of mind to take advantage of. And, for God’s sake, I am certainly not alone. I have an incredible social circle to keep me much more than just afloat. Not to mention the fact that I have a new found independence by moving into such an incredible new space (more on that later), and, moreover, (goddamnit!) I will hold out until I meet my person. Nothing else could possibly be worth my long while.
I’m doing life; I can do life with anyone who can walk beside me for a time. And, yes, that, right now, is incredibly gratifying as well as satisfying. Bottom line (back to the business analogy) is that return on investment is everything, and I would like to be in the habit of making savvy choices for my investments. Pretty simple, in theory. Yet, in practice, things are less than black and white.
It is a really strange thing. Dating, I mean. Not strange as a practice, I suppose. Everybody has to do something like it: it is a means for an end. Or is it an end for means?
Either way, I am at it again. Just when I thought I couldn’t be more disenchanted with online dating, and began only passively checking the app every once in awhile, there he was. Not only did he like my photo, but he also started up a conversation (shocking, truly). And it was a very good conversation. And we all know how these things progress from here: we chat a few days via the app, we exchange numbers, vet each other a bit, realize it is real enough, and then decide to meet. Online dating 101.
Upon meeting, though it wasn’t an instant connection, I thought there would be enough there to leave room for some potential. So, I stayed after lunch. I am happy I did. It was great way to spend a Sunday. Most definitely a fantastic use of my time. I am glad I met him. And we continued to talk extremely often. Not just texting; video chats and phone conversations as well. He gets that part of me, and ticks the same way as far as wanting to share and be in contact. From this, I realized that this aspect of connecting with someone is super important to me. This is the standard I am looking for. That’s not everybody’s cup of tea, obviously, but it certainly is mine. Before, I thought I could handle less communication. Now I know that this is what I find satisfying.
What is more is the quality of the communication; he is comfortable expressing his thoughts and saying sweet, touching things to me. I know he appreciates me in many ways. And I like that doesn’t assume that I know these things. So, now I also realize just how important this is to me as well. Two things that I suspected about myself, but have now been confirmed. Alone for this reason, this chance meeting has been very productive. I like what I’ve been able to learn about him and about me from our involvement with each other. The facts seem illusive, but sometimes can be very clear if we give ourselves the chance to learn them.
And so it goes on.
He is not my person. I like him, I am sure I could even love him, if I allowed myself to stick around long enough. But why would I do that? Because, if I don’t, I am afraid. Scared to be lonely? Maybe. Afraid of hurting him? Also. Mostly, it is the thought that this is it: I am destined to a love life of meeting, liking, realizing, letting go. Repeat. Or, of rejection. That this is all there really is. Because, let’s face it: there are a million awesome, interesting, fun, intelligent people out there, and they are all single. They haven’t found their person/people, so what is to say that I will find mine? That is why it is tempting to hold on to something that is not meant to be mine. He could suit me for a time, most certainly. He does suit me. We have a good, easy time together, and he makes me feel comfortable and appreciated. Good things, all of them. I can see, though, —or feel, rather— that there are some things between us that I wont find flattering in the long term. Nothing catastrophic, or obvious flaws in character, and nothing that would bring physical or emotional harm to me in any way. But there are things, little things. There is something about those little things, though; they are extremely important, somehow, and it is as salient that they line up as it is when comparing how big things line up.
I know myself well enough, these days, to hear what my body is saying to me. Shifts in energy, the way I react to situations, the nuance of the mechanism that I am. My body is comfortable next to his; it is not alive, it is not furthered, it is not set afire, there is no hum. It is positive, it is enjoyable, it is comfortable. And that is all there is. What’s missing is the all encompassing connection, the je ne sais qua, the strong hum, the pull, the desire, the slight discomfort caused by the kindling of both body and soul. It is to be found. And certainly there is more than one person in the universe whose energy will align with mine in this way. But the universe hasn’t given that person to me just yet. Maybe it will, and maybe it wont.
For now, though, I will hold on loosely to the things that are only meant to be for a short time. Hopefully, that will make it easier for me to let them go when the time is right. This is by no means easy for me. Not at all. On the contrary; I will struggle to do what is right for the next bit of time. But, as I have said before, when I am ready to wake up, I always do. And I know he is bringing to light much knowledge that will no doubt help me along my path. But I will have to let him go at some point. When our purpose has been fulfilled, and we have done all we can for each other, it will be time. At that time, the universe will shift once again, and our energies, and whatever connection there may have been between them, will gravitate away from one another. There will be healing, there will be growth. There will be fond memories, and gratitude. There will be a future of uncertainly founded on a past of discovery. And the knowledge gained will help us both to go forth and be brave on the next part of our journeys.
One of the most incredible things about the journey of life is how often it takes you full circle.
I mean, we’ve all been there: running into the past in some form is not highly uncommon. On the contrary. It happens pretty damn often.
Well, today was one such occasion. I’ll say I ‘ran’ into the chap that I was dating a few months back, but really, it was no surprise. We had been in touch; I knew he was going to be where I was going to be; and, though this would be the first time we saw each other since our mutual break-up, I knew that we are both secure enough in ourselves to make, at the very least, cordial conversation.
There’s a twist in the story, though. It wasn’t like I was visiting our old stomping grounds while out with some friends. No. Rather, I was going to be with my son; the very same little human that was never introduced during our dating relationship. After everything was said and done, he was finally going to meet my son. “Huh,” I thought to myself, “Fancy that.” Ironic? Maybe a little. And I had no idea what to expect.
Arguably, the best part of life is the surprises it presents you with. My confrontation with the recent past was better than I could have ever anticipated. It was comfortable, familiar, and not one bit awkward. In fact, I even remember thinking that he looked really good. Why shouldn’t he? He’s still the same person, in many ways, that I was attracted to when it all first began. The coolest part, though, is that he is the first man of my past with which I feel comfortable sustaining contact or a friendship. While we were talking, I realized that, when I told him I was happy for him, I legitimately was. And when he mentioned that we should catch up over food, I was actually ready and willing. Not because I was looking for something that may or may not still be there. Not at all. We know we aren’t it. But, he’s still someone that brings a certain element of joy to our interactions, and why not invest in people who have that ability?
The same goes for a girl friend I knew in high school. We lost touch thereafter, and during a dark part of my life, I wrote her off and figured I would never hear from her again. But, during a time of transition, I wagered my odds and reached out to her. My God, am I glad that I did! Not only did I find out we were in similar situations at the time, but I also realized that she was both the same awesome girl I had known as well as being someone older and wiser and a hell of a lot of fun. Without taking the risk and seeing her, though, I would’ve never known that. Now, here we are going on a girls weekend tomorrow. And I couldn’t be more grateful to have her friendship.
So, I dunno, chaps. Sometimes the past should stay the hell where it is. And sometimes it should come around for another round of hellos. I never know who has what to offer until I confront the person, I guess. But I do believe that taking the chance is worth it every time. At least I will know what is on offer, one way or the other. And, more often than not, I am moved by the power of fate, destiny if you will, bringing people back as permanent, or even temporary, fixtures in my life. The fact is that every person I meet is very much a part of getting me where I am going. And these meetings, my dears, are an incredibly powerful happening, indeed.
“Love is a Natural Disaster.” That is what my ex-boyfriend had always said. In fact, it was the title of the collection of paintings and mixed media projects he had completed. He was not only an artist who had housed his work in my gallery for the better part of six months, but also one of the greatest egoists I had met in a long time. But I was in the mood, so I let his flair for the melodramatic take up space in my gallery, my time and emotions, and, after too much wine and too many speeches about why living with me would produce the greatest work of his career, I let him take up residence in my flat as well.
After the six-month rental contract for the gallery space expired, I asked him very cordially if he could please get the fuck out of my apartment as well. He knew it was coming. But of course, he wasn’t going to go without a soliloquy about how I was making a huge mistake and so on, during which I just continued to make myself a Käsebrot. He flourished his hands through the air as he packed his painting materials, stuffing metal and other bits of material scraps into canvas bags as he reminded me for the fortieth time how inconsiderate I was being. I wish I could’ve cared, could’ve pinched some emotion back into myself, but I had become calloused to his existence since the day he began leaving bits of his long hair in the shower drain. Egotistical is one thing, sloppy is quite another.
“Love is a Natural Disaster.” Marius disagreed with this description entirely. He quipped that it may end in disaster, but on the whole, everything happens just as it may and more as it should. He was both philosopher and realist, and I found that juxtaposition suited me very well. More importantly, he was at the helm of an ever-expanding music empire, and had little to no time for pointless Quatsch. He understood my clipped and clean way of life, and admired me for it I think. The wheels of the days turned, and we found ourselves able to co-exist in a pleasant, romantic manner. We didn’t need to argue about work, schedules, or bills. He was fine with keeping separate residences, and we both certainly made enough money to keep up a certain stamina. Of course if I’m being perfectly honest, I enjoyed the prestige of his good-looks, social graces, and appreciation for a different form of art than the one he knew so intimately. He was always gracious about my necessity to mingle and go about my business, sometimes alone, and for that I respected him more than anything else. Actually, for my standards, I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone else previously.
“Love is a Natural Disaster.” Mira chuckled a little at the imagery, but I suspected she thought it could be a fitting analogy. Ever since I had seen her at the table across from Marius that first night when she made her prodigal return to Berlin, I myself hadn’t been able to shake the notion. They looked so incredibly oblivious to the world around them, so undeniably devoted to their precious time together, that, rather than joining them at the table, I found myself observing from a remote place at the bar where I sipped a vodka tonic so I could have a moment to get my head together. I ordered a second one when, the more I watched, I realized that this was the end of our world as we had known it. There was going to be a fucking natural disaster of seismic proportions, and nothing would be standing where it had been at the end.
Because I somehow like to torture myself, I refused to immediately address my speculations with Marius. I went through each day cataloging ever glance, every smile, every fucking nuance that went between them, and then I wondered angrily why I couldn’t sleep at night. Finally, when I told Marius what I thought, he managed the audacity to brush it off. This pushed me to such a precarious edge of my sanity that I even began comparing myself to her, making mental checklists of all things I had that she didn’t and vice versa. That nonsense stopped when I threw my empty tumbler at one of the stone walls of the gallery one night after having too many pity drinks. Three centimeters to the left and I would’ve ruined one of the artist’s paintings.
I’d be fucked if this shit would ruin life as I knew it.
The next day, I invited Mira for a girl’s day. The day after, we spent the entire morning and afternoon together. During the time we went about shopping and brunching, I had managed to compartmentalize the ties that held her to Marius. Over coffee at a fairly empty cafe, the callous had grown over the wound, and I no longer felt compelled to hold back the honesty of the situation; Marius was choosing her over me, and it was time that she became confronted with this disaster.
She stared at me; I don’t know if it was out of shock or because she was scandalized by my boldness, but I couldn’t give a fuck. She tried, depressingly lamely, to tell me that they were only friends from the past. And I told her to fuck off. I didn’t even bother explaining to her that I had seen my long-term partner abandon whatever it was that he had felt for me and go running, tripping all over himself, back to the flesh embodiment of his past. With reckless abandon, I yanked the lock from my bike, swung my leg over the metal bar, and rode off, hoping to never see her sorry fucking soul ever again.
I avoided glancing at the clock as if it were something horribly grotesque. Instead, I tried to keep my eyes focused on the emails I was writing, and the datebook I had propped open on my lap that I was now updating in pencil. Still, there was no avoiding it. 00:00. It had come at last. My thirty-second birthday. Verfickte Scheisse. I scowled at the ticking clock and pushed the datebook from my lap. Crossing my arms across my chest, I folded over onto my knees and wondered why in hell anyone would want to embrace something so utterly shitty as a birthday. No, this wasn’t just because I knew I was in the process of getting dumped. I had always hated my birthday. Ok, that’s probably not true—I guess I liked it when I was small. But as soon as the teenaged years came, I avoided that shit like it was a nasty virus. One year I even forbade my friends to acknowledge it. “Let me just pay for dinner and the rest of you shut the fuck up already,” I had said sharply. I was twenty-six. They had left it at that. I looked up to the blinking black cursor against the white background and cringed. Then, because I knew I would be an absolute lost cause if I didn’t, I picked up my phone and called a friend. A half hour later, I was walking out in six-inch heels and a cocktail dress, ready to start this new year; single as fuck, and grudgingly willing to dance on it.
The morning, or afternoon I should say, of my birthday, I woke up to the sweet smell of male sweat and damp sheets. I heard the sink running from down the hall and rose to drape a loose-fitting dress over my otherwise naked body. The guy who had come home with me for casual sex ended up taking me to a non-birthday brunch, as he had called it, and ended the afternoon by telling me the Vollidiot that was dumping me really wasn’t a legitimate human being. I wished more than anything that I could agree with him. He left me with a small kiss on the cheek and his phone number scrawled on an old Aldi receipt.
I had been able to do it, and I wondered at it as well as praised myself for it. Casual sex was back on the menu. Shit, at my age, I had no time to waste. The fact is, I am a woman who does have casual sex. I see no problem with getting my fill, and since I was for all purposes single, why the fuck not? It was by no means my first kick at the ball. And I realized, after the handsome brunch partner had left, that this suited me. It could get lonely, but it suited me. Now, I just wanted Marius to face his cowardice so we could put this tragedy behind us. This fucking natural disaster.