ph: Marija Strajnic
My best friend and I moved to New York three years ago. We were young and looking for adventure and were tired of boring, small Norway. I was going to study art, just for fun, didn’t want to study something heavy. We felt like true adventurers. Bold as hell, moving from something as safe and secure as Norway to something big and scary as NY.
Then I met a boy. No, not a boy – a man. I was twenty and he was thirty. The age difference didn’t bother me too much though. He was a lawyer, busy with his work and didn’t have time for such a thing as a girlfriend. So we kept it on a casual level. First it started out as a physical thing (and may I say, gosshh…!!). He was very good-looking. Strong, tall, well-dressed and wealthy are good keywords to describe him. He’d spend the night at my place, or I at his. But not much more than that.
After a month or so we took the “next step”. Ordering pizza, watching movies, hanging out. Turned out we had a lot in common and there was never any awkward silence. What can I say, one thing turned to another. Before we knew it we were going out, acting like a couple, but not being one. For months we did this, and I never questioned what we were or where we were going. I’d learn that the easiest thing to lose something is to want it too badly, so I didn’t want to scary him away. Besides, being the “cool, relaxed” girl who didn’t care about things such as labels was feeling good… for a while at least.
I opened up to him in a way I had never done to anyone before. I told him things I didn’t even tell my best friend (who btw moved back after 6 months, she missed Norway too much), and he never judged me or made me feel uncomfortable. And he did the same. I knew we had some sort of connection (God, that sounds lame), and he knew it too. I felt so secure with him. He was my everything.
I realized I loved him. We were lying in bed, he had him arms around me, kissing. We had done that a thousand times before, and yet there I realized it, out of the blue. I asked him what we were, and I remember him answering “We’re you and I. Isn’t that enough?” I don’t know why that hit me so hard. “Is this all we’ll ever be?” I asked. He wouldn’t give me more. He wasn’t looking for more, simply didn’t want more either. I saw this cold, feelingless side of him for the first time. It was like he was someone else. I didn’t recognize him. I deserve more. So I broke it off. And it hurt. Hurt like hell. I don’t have words for how much it hurt. I thought he was going to fight for me. I thought I meant more to him. I thought he was my soulmate. And I can’t really say that he broke my heart either, cause I did this to myself. I broke my own heart.
A month or so later, I saw him in a café. I was there with two friends, and then I saw him sitting in the corner, with a girl. He had seen me before I saw him. He looked sad in a strange way. His face was tense. But it was him. I panicked, left my friends and practically ran home. I ran home and cried. It still hurt. And it hurt like hell, all over again.
The next day he was sitting outside my building when I got back from school. And I remember his words precisely: “I love you. I’ve loved you since you fell going UP the stairs and we laughed ourselves to death. You are everything to me. You scare me, challenge me and still make me happier than I’ve ever been. I didn’t know how lost I was until I lost you”. Then he asked for another chance, and I was horrified that he might cause me that pain again, but I took a chance and gave him one.
After that I was his girlfriend and he was my boyfriend. He came with me to Norway on vacations, I met his family. We moved in together. We were insanely in love – and still are. A week ago, he asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes. We both cried. I don’t have a doubt that he is the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.
"Man kan ikke beskytte seg mot sorg uten samtidig å beskytte seg mot glede"
- Lena
