Wednesday, February 9, 2011
dare to tell that special someone how you feel
Dear le love,
I used to follow your blog for a long time but like 8 months ago or so I had to stop because it became too painful to read about all those heartbreaking stories when I couldn’t stop thinking about the so-called love story I found myself in. But I came back here, and now I want to tell you my story.
I used to think that it was a story about a naive girl with dreams too big for the world she lived in, with illusions, fantasies, you name it. Mostly a story about tears and self-loathing. About that one big thing you only get once and a feeling you never rediscover once it’s lost. But I didn’t lose it, and it turned out to be so much more than this. It’s also a story about happiness in its purest strongest form and the story about how I met the love of my life. I always knew he was. The story is quite long, but I hope you’ll be patient. It means so much to me.
To be honest, I didn’t really tell people about it at first. I have always been a girl with my head in the clouds, I’m overemotional most of the time and my dreams are probably bigger than the world we live in. It started about 1,5 years ago in July. To put it short, my best friend had just turned 20 and we spent an amazing evening celebrating her with picnics in a park and afterward we went out clubbing. We left the place quite early, before closing at least, and went to the train station to wait for the cabs that were to take us to my friends place. But it was a summer night, do I need say more? I never wanted to go home, for me the night was young and I wanted to live it as long as possible. My party mode was definitely on. So while we waited outside the station I listened to my favorite musician, on my phone, jumping around more or less hysterical over his awesomeness. Then all of a sudden I hear this voice from somewhere screaming his name. I got extremely happy and excited feeling that I had found a fellow fan so I screamed “yeeees” and ran over there. There stood this guy, we can call him Z, who was on his way from a party to another one and the first thing we did was to unite ourselves in a hug of mutual understanding and we immediately started to talk about this fav musician of mine and how awesome his music is. The music discussion went on and we discovered that we had the same favorite songs and liked the same bands. So we were quite hysterical and all happy, I gave him my cider and I wanted to come with him to the party he was going to but the other girls probably thought it was a bit inappropriate and wanted me to get with them in the cab. We stood there listening to music until the cab arrived.
After this we became friends on facebook and talked quite a lot. The reason that I didn’t talk that much about it with my friends back then was that I felt embarrassed. Embarrassed that I at such an early stage felt that I had this great amazing connection with a person I met for less than an hour at a train station, a single time. But we stayed in touch and I guess we both felt that we were very much alike and understood each other. I was interested in him the whole time. I couldn’t help myself. I kept thinking that somehow somewhere I’m meant to be with this person, regardless of how silly it may sound. That’s just the way it is. But I never dared to tell him how I felt since I was convinced that he just wanted us to be friends, that I was acting silly, felt too much as always and were imagining that things and feelings that didn’t exist were actually there. But probably most of all because I was so afraid, no terrified, that I’d scare him and lose what little I had of him in my life. So I never told him, just kept getting extremely happy every time I saw his name or heard a song with my fav singer ‘cause it always made me think of him.
Since I believed that there was no chance that I’d get to be with him I tried to change focus and meet others, mostly to forget. I can’t put down in words how much I cried those months, that year. Kept thinking that maybe it was like they were singing in our common favorite song with Broder Daniel that “there’s no time for us”.
I met another guy in November and we became a couple. Sure, I cared for him, I did, but I wasn’t even close to as hysterical that I’m usually like when I’m in love. I really wanted it to work and be real, but there was always something missing, even though I tried to ignore it and didn’t want to admit it. Besides, things didn’t get better as he treated me really bad and cheated on me. On the other hand, I couldn’t stop thinking about Z either. I hardly remember feeling as bad as I did between December and May. It was an awful time. At a pre-party we started to text each other and he called me. It was insane. Insane that it can be so easy to talk to a person you hardly know and that you despite this feel as if you know each other so darn well. Without having spoken about certain things it still feels like we’re so alike that it’s almost frightening and understand each other completely. He makes me smile and we talked for at least an hour or so before I had to return to my friends and entertain them. And I guess that there’s something seriously wrong when a person you categorize as a friend makes you a thousand, no a zillion, times more happy than the person that’s supposed to be your loved one. Ohwell. . .
Sometime during that early spring he got a girlfriend. I knew that I couldn’t officially care since I was still in my crappy relationship but ohmyfuckinggod how much it hurt. I couldn’t grasp it really. And yet, I was truly happy for him. Because if I ever wanted and want something it’s for him to be happy. Even if it means that he’s with someone else but me. It sounds silly and cliché, I know, but that’s exactly how it was. For a time that followed we had less and less contact, but at times those happy text messages showed up and made my day every single time, nothing made me smile as much as they did. During summer our contact got more intense, but there was never anything inappropriate about it really.
Still. Maybe one should start to question if there’s something there if you repeatedly text the same person every time you’re drunk or a little less sober or if you fast skip by certain songs every time you hear them because they, for various reasons, are too painful to listen to. So yeah, our contact was much less frequent but it never ceased. I was never able to get over him, to forget him. It sounds all cheesy but I thought of him several days a week, not to say daily. I mean, I hear those songs with my favorite musician quite often you know. And all of a sudden it had been a year since we met, that single time. Things had their usual way, it continued with text messages from parties, the usual common hysteria over awesome music and amazing concerts, quotes, lyrics, you know. In August I was suddenly single again. I probably sound bitter when I say it, but ending that relationship was the best thing we ever did since we became a couple. Afterward I realized that my old boyfriend made me feel bad most of the time and that’s not what love is supposed to be about. I want, and have always wanted, the real thing.
One night in August we abandoned the text messages and he called me. When I saw his name flash by on my phone display my heart beat so fast that I wondered whether it would stop or not. The chock, and I can’t describe how happy I felt. It’s probably one of the best phone calls I’ve ever had. His disturbingly pretty accent and our fav singer playing in the background; “We listened to Håkan, and it made me think of you”. He played our favorite song for me, Nu kan du få mig så lätt (which is Swedish and basically means If you want me, now you can have me so easily). & we talked about almost everything. Love. Relationships, being overemotional. Obviously about music. And we talked about that as well - that it’s sick how you can feel such a magic connection with a person you’ve only met once. How stupid you feel when you feel that way, even though you can’t do anything about it. He also said that there’s a lot of people you only meet once, but most times you lose contact when it’s been a while, that it usually doesn’t feel as important to stay in touch as it does now. That some things time can heal. Others not. We talked about fear and expectations, the fear that the other person has built up huge expectations that doesn’t correspond with reality. The feeling that you really want to find out, but at the same time are terrified to do so. He wanted me to know that he didn’t forget about me.
Still, I couldn’t imagine that he felt the same way I did. Funny thing was though, that during our conversation that lasted more than an hour no awkward silences interrupted us and it felt as if we were able to talk more and about more important things than me and my old boyfriend had done in eight months.
After this, the drunk conversations started to occur every weekend. Sometimes both Friday and Saturday and never less than an hour, often two or three. It was the highlight of my week. As time passed we dared to become more and more honest .. The last weekend in August was very emotional and I stood at the stairs talking with Z while my friends we’re partying upstairs while he had locked himself into the only bathroom at a club to talk to me while people were knocking on the door outside. We decided to see each other that Friday. Or, more correctly. He was going to visit his girlfriend, and doing so he would pass the town where I live so we decided that he should just make a quick stop and say hi. Said and done. Friday came. Do I have to mention that I listened to Friday I’m in love with The Cure that day?
We met at the train station. He looked just the way I remembered and when I walked up to him he hugged me really hard and we stood there for a minute or so. I guess no one wanted to let go and he smelled sooo good. We stood there, talking about everything and nothing, but it didn’t feel awkward at all, I was just so terribly happy to see him and I enjoyed observing him as he talked to me. His eyes were so pretty and they glittered so much. The butterflies in my stomach turned all crazy, I tell you. Before he had to leave I got another hug which made me state the fact that he’s the best hugger in the world, all time.
The next weekend was insane, really. The conversations we had. I don’t know. They really changed a lot. He called when he and his friends were on their way to a club, but when they got there he didn’t want to hang up so the whole time while they were in there, he was standing outside, talking to me. We talked about how nice it had been to finally see each other again. And that we still felt the same way after our second meeting, that there was no unrealistic images or expectations. Though it would probably have been easier if it was that way. I mean. I’ve always felt that I’m meant to be with him neither meeting him or that phone call made things easier. Especially not as I found out something I never could have imagined and hardly had dared to dream about. All of a sudden we came into the topic of relationships and he told me that he had cried so terribly much when I started seeing that boyfriend I had, that it almost destroyed him. That he had cried so much the months after we met the first time because he wanted to be with me so badly. Say what!? I basically found out that everything I thought was just silliness and imagination from my side – that he had been walking around feeling exactly the same way!
I almost started crying when he told me. It’s so painful to think about how both of us have been crying because we want to be with each other so badly and no one of us dared to say anything! So idiotic. So utterly idiotic. I told him that I still feel the same way.
I don’t understand how two persons can be so stupid. If we’d only known six months ago what we were now aware of things would have been so different. I will never forgive myself for not daring to tell him, for not daring to take a chance. As I told him, if I had just known, I’d have got on the next bus to him – immediately. I have never met anyone that makes me feel the way he does. Never. Ever. It was our best and worst conversation so far.
The next time we talked I was terrified and feared that he wanted us to stop being in touch, not to cause trouble with his relationship and so on. But he didn’t, on the contrary, he told me that he’d fall apart inside if we stopped talking.
I have no idea what to say anymore. The only thing I know is that this is how it’s supposed to feel. And I’m so scared that he will settle down with this girl and that I’ll be sitting here left alone listening to no time for us. It probably sounds cheesy, silly, pathetic and all. I will wait for him though. If Mississippi can wait for better days I guess I should be able to do it as well, and I told him so. I just hope that I’m not waiting in vain and that I won’t have to wait an eternity. Because every single day without him feels like one.
That’s where I thought I’d be ending this story when I started to write to tell you about it in September. But things turned out so much more amazing and fantastic than I could ever imagine. To make a long story short (or at least shorter). Z broke up with his girlfriend and we decided to see each other. He came to visit me and I was supposed to meet him up at the train station. I was all hysterical and so happy, I don’t have words for it really. So I walked down the platform all glassy-eyed and saw him in a distance. We started walking towards each other and I didn’t know what to do with myself because my heart was jumping all over the place and I almost forgot how to move my legs, I was so extremely happy and nervous at the same time. Eventually we started running towards each other and threw ourselves in each others' arms, spinning around almost falling backwards. We hugged each other so hard that we almost fell apart as I started to feel whole and complete inside. Then he kissed me and I almost started to cry. And there we stand for like 15 minutes or so, just looking at each other all fascinated. People at the station are looking at us, I guess they’re smiling, I would have. It felt just like a scene taken from a romantic movie, but better. Because this is real.
The days that followed were made up of tea, kisses and amazing glances, waking up beside him, listening to music that says it all and yet cannot explain the phenomenon. Fascination, love and to get completely lost in your emotions and in another person. Those days contained more smiles and sparkling eyes than many eternities do.
Since that weekend we’re a couple. It’s been four amazing months now. And I can honestly say that it all, and Z, is all I ever wanted and more than I could ever wish for. With every day that goes by I’m just falling deeper in love with him and I’m getting more and more convinced that he’s the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
I guess all I want to say to those in the same situation is that if you don't dare to tell that special someone how you feel you may end up regretting it for the rest of your life and that sometimes the waiting is just worth it all and that you shouldn't give up. No matter what. Because. Love is the one thing we can't surrender.