I think I lost myself for a while. Lost in-between languages, deadlines, countries and nights out. Lost between does he like me or does he not, between happy and sad.
It’s all been about him, hasn’t it? I’ve been lying on my bed when he’s not there and I’ve forced myself to get up and be my own feminist role model. I’ve been cautious in my actions, not wanting to destroy anything between us two. I’ve stopped doing things that I like. I’ve followed his every wave even when he hasn’t been waving.
It culminated tonight. He went out for a meal with his friends from the corridor and as I am The Best at making myself sad and worried (especially when I’m stressed) I cried myself to sleep. Or to not-sleep, because I couldn’t fall asleep. I’ve always said that falling asleep has been my thing – no matter what it has never been an issue.
I cried because I’m stressed, I am homesick, I am insecure and I will miss him loads when I go back to Sweden for the Easter Holiday. I texted him but he didn’t reply. My instant response to that was “He doesn’t like me anymore” (by far the most stupid and dangerous assumption one can make while in a relationship).
I saw a picture from my home town on Instagram and started crying again.
At 2am I gave up that thing called sleep and walked to the kitchen. I had water. I spent about 7 minutes scrubbing the burned milk of the bottom of my saucepan. I got it off. I saw that the lights were on in the other kitchen and walked there after turning them off in my own. It was Aimee. She was writing her essay. She was still drunk. I’ve never really spoken to her before. We had a nice chat. O and W joined. I felt better.
At 4am I walked to his room. I knocked. He said “No”. I said “Please”. He opened. He was half asleep and more than half drunk as I crawled into bed with him. After a while I fell asleep.
He didn’t and at 6.22 I woke up again. I asked “Are you annoyed with me for coming in here?”. He said he was annoyed with me waking him up because now he couldn’t get back to sleep. I said sorry. I felt like crying again.
He said “Don’t be so sad. It’s not the worst thing you can do to someone”.
I said “I know” with tears in my voice.
He asked me what I was thinking at it all came out. Everything that is wrong. I ended it with: “It’s just that sometimes I really feel like crying even if I don’t know why. And I feel like crying even though I know I don’t have a reason to.”
“I’ve noticed that”, he said. “It reminds me a lot of how I used to be towards my first girlfriend?”
“I used to be very sad and depressed towards her. It’s like you for the first time have someone to share these things with and then you just want to let it all come out.”
What he said made me think and even though I have had people to share these things with previously I see what he means. I think I have tried to substitute him for everything that used to be familiar to me. Every sense of comfort I ever got from elsewhere, from home from the city where I live from family from friends, has now been transferred onto him. I thought: “That’s not the way to do it.”
He left the room and went to the bathroom. Said he might be sick. I stayed for a while. He came back; I left.
I walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on. I made myself a big strong mug of morning coffee. The sun is shining beautifully outside the window. Early morning light, is there anything better? I walked to my room and smiled towards my reflection in the mirror.
I’ve got this now. I think.
I am writing this now.
I wish you could hear the birds that are singing outside my window.