Morning Glory

If I haven't said already, the windows in my little house are being replaced for the next ten days. This basically means I don't have much of a work space, since I mostly work from home, and I end up feeling rather down because there isn't a whole lot else to do. That just said, some little man just kicked me up the arse and said "You just don't want to do anything else but sulk and whine. There's a lot to do. You just don't want to do them on your own. You coward."

And he's right.

When I mean little man, I mean the part of me that wants me to live and be happy. I woke up miserable this morning. Not only because I had to be ready in time before the workers showed up, but also because it's about the fourth night in a row that I had 6 hours or less of sleep and that's due to the late phones calls to my BF. Yea, we are 'talking' it out. And if you read my previous blog, we were especially talking about how I fucking hate this grey area we are in. Basically I feel like I'm waiting for someone and I don't know how long the wait is. Ok wait. I know. I'm not just waiting for "someone". I'm waiting for my true love. And if love were a religion, and you believed in it like it were your God, then I believe that my BF is my one and only true love, because I don't have eyes for anyone else but him. And I think this is why this whole business we're in is tougher than I had anticipated.

During our phone conversation, we discussed the possibility of having no communication. But I said, if we were to have no communication and I wouldn't know when he was ready to get back into the relationship seat, I might as well move on. Waiting around, no matter how deep the love is, especially if you don't know what's going on in his life, isn't being fair to myself and my needs and wants.

My sister thought up a compromise though. She was making coffee for the workers, whilst I told her I went to bed angry last night and woke up angry, turning me into a little screaming HULK just waiting to break out of my clothes. Her suggestion: my BF and I would have no communication say one or two months. In that time we would do what we had to do to become better people. Once this time comes to an end we meet at a location that we had previously agreed on. The idea behind this is, if one of us (or both) doesn't show, we move on with our lives without the other person. And of course, if we both show, we would start our lives together forever.

It's definitely a good suggestion.

Maybe something to mull over.

But now, I've got to get back and start some work. I worry that these blogs will get the better of me someday...

I'm Feeling it Today

About two hours ago my sister and I returned home from a yoga lesson. Just to fill in the blanks, I'm copy editing for a yoga master, most of his pieces I edit are either for his website, blogs and his books. Instead of money, I get yoga. I thought it fair enough, because it was time I got out of my comfort zone and did something a little bit more active than running after a bus.

Today's session went really well. I think I enjoyed having my sister about, who tends to get rather nervous in new situations and ends up gibbering about, making me laugh.

When we got home this evening, we dug into some late night dinner. Although we had a healthy session earlier and Frank, yoga master, advised us on certain whole foods that are filled with more nutrients than a decent dinner, we left thinking, "yea, we'll turn this around". I said to myself I was going to start a raw food diet, try it for a week, re-vitalize my system.

Entering the supermarket, aisles of food saying "me, me, me" I grab a pot of houmous, some celery sticks and turn my back on the processed foods. At that moment my sister went off to get what she craved for... a pizza. It was right then I already knew I'd sneak a piece, even after I had my healthy snack. Just a little grease. It can't be that bad, one slice...? Maybe two? I ended up eating seven celery sticks, one entire pot of houmous (low fat) and two slices of pizza... And now? I kinda feel like shit.

Since I hit 26 I feel like I'm actually fighting with my body. Being athletic in build, I never worried. For the last three years, I practically did no exercise. I tried, but it bored me. I went through a real stupid phase where I controlled what I ate. To the point where I was smaller than the American size zero (not to confuse size with weight though, I wasn't anorexic) - when I was in New York with a friend, I tried on a pair of jeans from GAP; thinking they weren't tight enough, I went to the sales clerk and asked if he had them a size smaller, he checked the tag "we don't sell anything smaller than a size zero ma'm".

Shortly after that experience, I saw the doomed number '0' everywhere. The tabloids were polluted with size zero celebs, looking worn out, older than their age and behind the veneers they seemed miserable. Question was, did I look like that? Looking back on pictures, not really, but those legs... well they did look rather sinewy. So after gradually getting used to eating what I wanted, whenever I wanted, I ate and ate and ate. On top of it, I got back onto the Guinness and everything pretty much went sort of wobbly from there.

Originally I wanted to write this blog about something else. But somehow I felt that talking about my yoga and feeling shitty about what I ate barley an hour ago, sort of ties in with this something else that I just started to feel. And that is - I miss him. I am truly and properly missing him. It actually kind of hurts. And I worry that it might get worse. It's reached the point where I wonder what the hell are we doing? Why are we apart? What good is this doing? Yes, we figured we'd take a break so that he could properly concentrate on himself without distractions, and me too (I guess). But we've been in contact some parts of the day as though we were still an item. Ending every conversation with, I Love You. This grey area is confusing me more than ever. My skin feels tight around my heart. I just want this to be over with. Have him back in my arms. Smelling his skin. I love that smell. It's the only smell I've ever noticed coming from a man that I fell in love with. Now I'm stuck with memories.

I've caught myself twice today checking my phone to see if he's written me something. But nothing yet...

No matter how "logical" you choose to make things, feelings always take over eventually. And I want him back. Plain and simple. I tire of sharing things over the phone. Gosh. I'm. Feeling. Sad.

Just thought I'd leave you with a last thought, that yea, I feel shitty about being a pig earlier tonight but I feel even shittier that I can't have him close to me right now before I fall asleep.

Love,

Me

True Romance?

Before my BF and I hit a stone wall and we were genuinely happy, the question of true romance seemed to pop into my mind from time to time.

You see, as a woman, some of us are fooled into thinking that what media tells us, is what it's all about. An example would be the chick flicks that plague this world like a zombie virus. My BF and I would watch chick flicks from time to time, I emotionally immersed by the love affair, whilst he lying next to me was squeamish, not because the story was cliché, but because he found them to be a lie.

For instance - take Valentines day. The biggest bullshit day of the year. A money making machine, turning over profits like it were Christmas day. I loath the day, not because you see happy lovers arm in arm and you're wondering where your valentine was lurking, but because you see stressed males, running around, throwing money at any ol' thing that says 'be mine' just to keep her happy and loved. You know what my BF and I did on that day? Painted my closet. Now that's romance. Because he did for me, he helped me, and that for me is true romance.

Love should be celebrated everyday without the ridiculous amount spend-thrifting on nonsense. I say keep up the spontaneity and all should be well. Surprise her. Surprise him.

True horror does not come from those films that propose a doomed world where zombies take over the earth and it's down to two people to rediscover the lost peace. The true horror is the exploitation of love in films that propose there is only one way for him to truly love you, if he does this and that and this. Believe me, I've tried the whole, storming out thing, packed the bags, tricking him that I was leaving, secretly hoping he would run after me (like in the movies) hoping that just before I board the train, he would come running down after a ten minute adventure of fighting traffic, breathless, shouting my name, grabbing me, kissing me and telling me that he was the one who was wrong and that I am the only one for him. I can assure you, that if I had stormed out in reality, he wouldn't have come after me. In fact I would be on that train kicking myself for being such an idiot. After all it always takes two to tango.

So yea. Love films are dangerous to women, because eventually they condition you into believing there is only 'one man out there'. And what about the 'Mr. Right' myth. Mr. Right is a perfectly designed illusion aimed at financially independent women to avoid any 'he's not good enough' lads in order to push their career until they hit 40 and realize they missed the family train and it's too late to have kids or even a healthy relationship with a man without always the lingering thought 'could I do better'? Point is you can't do better, because relationships will always have their ups and downs. And honey, if you want someone to be 'the one' for you, marry yourself.

Pardon the ranting.

To be perfectly honest, for only being 26, I'm already making valid decisions about babies and career. As a women you have to think about it more than a man. We are under pressure if we decide to have a career and children at the same time. The older I get, the more it becomes apparent that soon I will have to make that decision. You can always be one of those women who do everything, the whole multi-tasking life juggling act kids and husband and work and life... but seriously, I want to be happy and I will need sleep if I want to enjoy any bit of my life.

So true romance? I know, I've probably killed it a bit, but really, romance comes from you showing your partner love and appreciation in your own fanatical way, independently from any women's magazine or film.

Just my thoughts.

Love,

Me

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We Remain Friends

It's been a 48 hour break from the world to talk over everything that's happened (we holed ourselves up in my room for two days solid). My once BF and now best friend and possible lover in the future and I, came to some very interesting conclusions. All in all, we ended on good terms and yes, I am single. Feels kinda good actually. Like I needed it. It's been long over due anyway, and now I can fully concentrate on myself and my projects. It's now ME time.

And my BF? Can I still call him that? I will, because he's still my friend, he's my best friend, which stands for BF. hehehe. Well he's going to sort his shit out. His happiness is loooong over due too. He's got to find what makes him most happy again, gain confidence and ride the wave without all this pent up anger and frustration. Believe me, I've been in the cross fire long enough. What started out as a happy relationship, developed into a bit of a fight fest, and I feel relieved the weight's been lifted from my shoulders.

We love each other. And I don't mean that love that you kind of still hang on too. We actually love, love each other, and this is why we made this choice of taking a break. Hey, you never know, I might be really naive here, and this "taking a break" might really be the finishing line. But I'm not going to set hopes on anything, not yet, not until I see/hear some results. You never know, my BF might never find his true happiness, and relationship or no relationship, by golly, I hope he finds what he's looking for. Because I don't wish unhappiness on anyone.

So here I am. Already feeling the memories sway in and out of my room, the kitchen, the hallway, the remaining scent on my hands, face, clothes, the saddened heart pumping loosely in my chest as my finger type away... Yea, this is what it feels like. But I think it could feel worse if my BF and I didn't have the talk. It kind of softened the blow a little bit. And it really made things clear. And this is why I believe we're good people for each other, because we listen, really listen to one another when we need to get something off our chest.

I wonder if I'll let him go properly... Or will I still take him back when he decides to return to me? I really hope he finds what he's looking for. I wish it for everyone!

Love,

Me

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It's the way He said it

It's sunday morning. My alarm's about to go off. My eyes feel sore. My face is streaky with make-up.

I'm officially starting a blog about relationships, work and the overall highs and lows in life. Not very groundbreaking. It's been done before. But this is for me and anyone else who feels the need to relate.

So why the drama early Sunday morning? My boyfriend, or soon to be ex, is sleeping upstairs, and I had to get away. Break-ups are not only hard, but there's this inevitable thought of, how will life go on after this? The confusing part is, I still love him. Properly. Like, I don't care if we mis-match a lot of the time, I love him, and we will make it work. How confusing to be told that love conquers all, when it clearly doesn't, not in this case that is. But then maybe I could conclude that he doesn't love me the way I love him and if he loved me harder, we wouldn't be here. I might just have to trust him though, that he does love me, he's just been so unhappy, that he's run out of answers...

We didn't have the most romantic starts. In fact, after a four year relationship with another boyfriend, I cheated on him with my now soon to be ex. You could say it was doomed from the start. But I never saw it that way. I was head over heals. Been a looong time since I felt that way. I don't think I felt such a rush even with my ex of four years. I believed we belonged together. Forever. Maybe that's the doom. Don't put all your eggs in one basket.

Point is, do I still fight for him? Or do I let him go? I got to tell you, yes, if he left, it would be scary, but I know I'll be alright. Thing is though, I still love him, and I can't give up without a fight... Or maybe that's what it was... A fight to keep him all this time, when I should have let go months ago. Shoulda woulda coulda. Quite frankly, I am a bit exhausted, but maybe (I keep thinking) if he had his heart open, saw the good instead of the doubt, we would have had a better chance. He calls it being realistic, in life, I call it ride the wave as much as you can.

It hurts to hear that the person you're giving your all to, isn't happy, hasn't been, has been trying hard, doesn't see things eye to eye anymore. I get it. By the end of the day, I get it. Maybe love really isn't enough. But then seriously, what is? There is no perfect human out there. The perfection is within ourselves, love yourself before you love others, so why can't we be happy with what we have...?

I ended a previous relationship because I didn't love anymore and amongst many other things (mostly we just grew apart). I get involved in a new relationship that is nothing but love and after a few rumps and disagreements, amongst the good times, it comes to an end...?

I'm ending this blog with; don't ever give up on your dreams, keep giving your all in every moment, try to understand others rather than revolt and if the pain is great, cry your fucking heart out until you're dry from all water.

Love,

Nina

www.thepinchcomic.co.uk