Tuesday, January 26, 2016

My Deeds 2015. Part II.

Ok, let’s finish this once and for all haha. In my head it has been put behind me already but as my memory continues to whither with time (haha) putting things down to remember it’s smart. It helps the heart remember what it felt like when the brain thinks it’s better to hide it to help you heal. Some truths must remain with us to help as lessons for the future.

So last time, we were left down I believe haha. Time to go up again.

We’re still in August. Claire, Jim and Eileen’s older grandaughter Claire came along for a month or so and I went to pick her up from the airport. That was a fun day. I knew her since she was about a year old! It builds a bond you know.
August was also Grasu’s bday! My baby boy turned seven! In case I have not said it before, I am blessed to have such a wonderful soul in my life and I am grateful for his unconditional love and I am sure I do him more wrong than he ever does me. But I love him with all my heart!

End of August also brought my, what was it, 18 year anniversary from graduating grammar school. I’ve met people I’ve known for 26 years! It was so beautiful, so much fun and such an incredible night. It’s good to see that we are still friends beyond the borders of time and that life hasn’t really changed us or the way we interact. I believe this generation, the way we grew up together for about 8 years really bonded us through nice memories and I do not recall one negative vibe about that night. It was really impressive so I am excited to do it again. I hope it will happen again next summer!

August also brought me that damn entezita, namely that muscle in my right ass cheek that fucked up my existence for the following months. I managed to work it out beautifully throughout the month of September, but now that I have started running the half marathons it is back with a vengeance. It’s ok. In fact it’s getting better already. It’s a mind trick as much as it is physical pain. The ass cheek (muscle haha) needs to learn that I will run half marathons constantly and that with my care and its rational understanding of its new circumstances and rules, we will manage without further pain haha. I know I’ve taken my ass, literally, out of its comfort zone, but it has to find a way to deal with it, like the rest of me. Am I making any sense? haha

September. Oh, wasn’t that the best of months? That was my first time taking a one month vacation from work and I spent it all in the US. Yes yes, I could spent another 12 pages describing my time there but the truth is, I didn’t have the time to write a blog about it, because there was too much to say. I had my first tattoo done on September 5th and it was an awesome experience. Then the Marco Sanchez episode, then the Houston adventure and all that came from it. Made so many new friends and lived the American life for 30 full days. I totally LOVED IT!


Coming back to Bucharest, I ran the relay on October 4th where I pulled out my best time ever on 7 miles, namely 52”14’. I had a great time, mom also participated in her first race and was a total success. That day was good, was damn good, with lots of fun memories! I always have a smile looking back at it.
A week later, I went to Sugas with my friends. My first ever trail/mountain race. That was truly another level of pain and hard work. But I will do it again! Just not in winter damn it! Haha It was so cold, so cold and the slopes going up were so steep at some point that there were times when I literally thought I wouldn’t make it. I was just going to sit down and send it all to hell! Surely to do a race like this, means training to run up hills and slopes and whatnot. At this point I’m not sure how anyone can run up a hill for fuck sake haha. Obviously I saw people doing it but personally, it killed my lungs. There is a technique in everything and I will master it in due time and with the right practice and attitude. Easy does it though. Otherwise my ass will have some more bitching to do! 


Later on in November, during our teambuilding with the Treasury Division I found out the terrible news about the fire at Colectiv. The death toll increased exponentially as days went by and it was one of the most dramatic events of this kind in the history of our country. Things went out of hand in many ways. You probably read the details in the news. A lot of people went out in the street. Hopefully a lot or something will change from that fight. At least they'll pass the legislation where people are not allowed to smoke inside anymore. There was much hurt and confusion during those days. This people showed unity for once in a very long time. I don’t think we were deeply coherent about why we went on the streets. Not at first. We were just angry to be proven again that much of our system is rotten and constructed on piles of corruption and misused money and lack of care for what really matters. This generation has made a point, has somehow surfaced their priorities and the level of being fed up with the old ways. I hope we understand, old and young, that it lies with us to make a change. The system won’t change if we don’t force it. The system won’t change if we don’t change. If we continue to give and accept bribery, if we continue to consider image and wealth as part of who we are and feel like we can’t accomplish anything in life without them, then any movement of 25k people in the street will fail. As for me, I managed together with friends to collect donations and send them to the hospital as they were running short on supplies with so many critically injured. That was a fine day to live and witness. 



Soon after, Paris was struck by death as well and I bled for them too. Useless to say that I look back on it all and realize my little dramas in life could turn to dust when compared with the lives lost and the atrocious pain in the hearts of families enduring the unfair passing away of their loved ones. I mean, at the end of the day, you look at some story in your life, it meant something at some point, but after a while you just say fuck it. I don’t need this shit and you move on. But you can’t move on from such a loss. It will always stick with you. There’s levels of pain and endurance that cannot be compared. And death always seems unfair, no matter how it comes.

November. Mom's Bday. Jim’s Bday. Bond. James Bond stuff haha. Lots of fun as usual. I’ve been working with this man for 8 years this February. Believe it or not it’s becoming increasingly difficult to come up with new ideas for his birthday. I can only be so inventive haha. But it was great working on the details and I, fortunately, have the best of people and the greatest of teams at work. They are always into whatever idiotic ideas I come up with and they turn a normal day into a beautiful birthday. Of course, it was Grandpa’s birthday the same day. My beautiful, amazing, loving and patient Grandpa.  It was a day where my heart was split in two. Rejoicing Jim who is a father figure to me and whipping for my other father figure I had lost the same year. Every smile came with a tear shed that day. And that’s ok. There was love in both.

December came. The Coup de Grace. How else could a year such as this end up but with a swift blow where it hurts more?

It started deceivingly good with the first half marathon on December 1st. My first half marathon in competition. A few weeks before I ran the same distance with Valeria van Groningen. Another Gemini amazement! (I am secretly so proud of my species!) She received the gold medal in single sculls at the Summer Olympics in Los Angeles back in 1984 among other titles and she is a professional runner, organizing the main running competitions in Romania. She had the patience to run with my slow ass through the woods in Baneasa so I can conquer my own record and threshold of 11 miles and make it to past 13 miles. Believe me, every extra mile is a huge effort beyond what your body has been trained for. Every 30 seconds won in time means months of hard training.
Two weeks after that I participated to the Baneasa Trail Run which was absolutely amazing. I really start enjoying trail running more than street running because of its diversity. Yes, it’s more difficult in a way because of the uneven terrain and the greater possibility of accidents. But literally, it’s a date with nature. It’s so quiet and at every turn you see something else and you can’t get bored because you always have to be on the lookout for some hole in the ground, rocks, mud holes, collapsed trees or fallen branches. It’s literally just you and the woods. And the mental pressure is different. Yes, people are running around you, but on a trail you can’t run 10 people side by side. It’s pretty much just you and the forest and the silence. I only needed my headphones during the last few miles to put some stamina in my joints because I was getting tired. I did better in terms of time in this competition than I did during the first one. It was awesome!

But as December came to an end, so did the perfume of happiness. Two days before Xmas I was walking home from work, reading through my FB chat when I ended up in this “restricted/filtered” FB messages I didn’t even know existed. And there were messages from people from as far back as 3 years! WTF? It seems people who are not friends or follow you on FB but write to you straight on the chat get “filtered” so if you don’t see that right away it gets lost after a while and re-pops when someone else does the same thing. So among many others, there was this message from a girl. She had actually messaged me back in mid June. To make a long story short again, she turned out to be the wife of the guy I had dated for almost half a year in 2014. The guy I had banned entirely upon my grandpa’s death. I cancelled all my plans for that night, went home and skyped with this woman. In my eyes she was the “ex girlfriend” who was always causing him trouble– the way he explained it to me – and for her, I was the one woman he cared for and spent time with the most. And I am saying “one” because there were more.

As she was out working night shifts and sometimes being away for 2 weeks at a time with her job, he had plenty of time to see me. He also kept his wife hidden from the world so not a lot of people knew he was actually married for a year (when I met him). When she found out about me she realized I knew nothing of the entire thing and asked him to tell me the truth and stop seeing me because it was the right thing to do. Eventually after threats and arguments, he promised he would. But he didn’t and she knew it in her heart but could never prove it. So for the rest of the year she followed me on Facebook and little by little she realized we were actually very much alike. That, as she put it, I was a good person and had circumstances been any different, we could have been good friends. Consequently, as she also said, “at least he has good taste in women.”

By the time her and I spoke that night, she had filed for divorce and she was bitter with his cheating and cruelty. I can’t tell in words what it felt like waiting for Skype to connect. I cannot describe my state of mind at that point. Skype finally connected and she was crying. “I’m not here to blame you.” I think it was one of the first things she said. “I know you didn’t know anything. And he fought so hard to keep you away from me. It made me realize that he actually cared a lot for you. I was so jealous he was treating you so nicely, but at home he acted so badly with me.” I listened to her for 2 hours and despite hearing her and seeing how our stories came together like two halves, I still couldn’t believe it that I had been cheated on so bluntly. And ironically, my cheating was her cheating.

So there we were, two women having shared the same man and both thought of each other as enemies at some point because of his lies. And now we faced each other and I felt amazed by her approach to me. It shows strength of character and a beautiful nature if you can look the “other woman” in the eye and thank her for actually admitting to talk to you. Who does that? And yes, I will say it. Who does what I did? Accept to speak to the wife not knowing what’s coming. It does take courage you know, on both ends. My courage to admit I might’ve lived a lie and hurt someone else at the same time. Her courage to be confirmed her fears after so long and his cheating, yet again. The other women she was able to track down vanished scared at the perspective of being involved in their divorce. Or messing their image or their current relationships. And he was also behaving like a creep because he has materialistic reasons at stake not to give her the divorce.

So yes. I had only known her for so long but I wanted, instinctively, to do right by her, because I had hurt her somehow and she is genuinly a very candid beautiful soul. On top of that, my decision to help her rested on the damage he had personally caused me. And yes. It was a consious choice of going against a man who meant a great deal for me. And yes, I did consider what he'd think about this, whether it was fair to him, considering he had stood up for me against his wife. But whatever his reasons, he should have not dragged us both into this mess. The truth will always be revealed so if he didn't care about the consequences, than I chose not to as well.  

My mom went through being cheated on and she suffered greatly because of some woman who got in between. Because you shouldn’t lie about things like marriage. Because knowing where I come from and that I have also been through a divorce myself, you don’t keep this kind of information away from me. Because I can’t understand what lies in a man who uses his wife’s car and the clothes she bought him while dating me. Because he took away from me the right to make a choice. The choice of whether I want to still see him or not, given his situation. He knew I wouldn’t, so he chose to lie just to be with me. And that's not an excuse. In one move he broke two people's trust. His wife and mine's. I want nothing to do with a married man because I don’t want to be the reason for separation between people and no one can decide for me in a matter like this!

I gave her the proof of his cheating.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn't easy keeping the balance in between wanting to help her and feeling betrayed myself. I knew I had something of value with that man and he probably knew it as well if he stood up for me. But to what avail? It was all cancelled becaue of lies and it's so much sadder that it ended so miserably for everyone. One cannot be selfish this way. He should have divorced her and then seek another woman’s company. It’s how things should be done so she benefits from her life as well. You can’t have her money, her status and also another woman. 

So now she’s on her way to getting her freedom back and we are on our way to discovering each other as people and friends. Amen! 

New year’s night came a week later and 2015 decided to stretch its hand right through the warm whole between the years to throw one more empty can my way. I saw a picture of my ex husband with his pregnant girlfriend/wife/fiancĂ©e. It caused time to stop for about 24 hours. I think I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t take a long moment to reason with this situation. I never for one minute regretted my decision to divorce him. But it does make you wonder. Can a man change? Like truly change so much as to decide to have the one thing he denied me? Have I really been that bad that he refused having children with me to have them 4 years later?

Well, by the end of January 1st, after much thought and a few minutes of self pity and tears I decided that no. Life has taught me better. Actually, I had been given an example that very summer. People rarely change. Most of the times they remain true to their nature and only mold situations to fit who they are or blossom when they find prime circumstances. I lived to see my ex before his success and then I saw him blossoming into an increasingly wealthy man. But that change in his pocket also brought a change in his attitude that drove us apart. You can't have marrital goals just in theory while in practice you only follow your own plan expecting your partner to tag along. You need to learn to think for "two", to learn that compromise is the way when you both want the same thing but not at the same time. Talk about it. Don't lie, don't stall, don't confuse me thinking you'll get away with it until you reach your comfort zone and are ready to do it. That is a conscious choice you make into misleading me when I take an issue seriously, including your words. That's what happened to us. I wanted kids sooner, he told me he was with me on that one, but never really acted accordingly which saddened me because children are essential to me. The fact that he wouldn't discuss about it fearing that I'd get upset made it worse, while what really upset was him saying one thing to then do another. This wasn't about buying a new TV set. It was about our future. Everything else I can do myself. I had married to have a family, hence, children. So don't do that. 

All being said, I have beautiful memories from that time, no doubt about it and to a certain extent I am sorry we didn't make it, of course. No one gets married to divorce. But I would have been more sorry if I had stayed. I can't settle to live someone's life and plans as long as they don't care to compromise to live a bit of mine, my wishes and my dreams. I am not a paper clip to a marriage certificate. I am a woman who's rather constant in what she wants so you should know me (really know me) before you marry me so you don't get "unpleasent surprises". So that's about it. There is nothing from that episode that I miss or want back, children or no children. 

So. What is there left to say. I wish him all the best. I do. I hope the baby is born safely under the brightest of stars. They all come innocent into this world despite our grown up dramas. As for him, I wish he becomes better than his self/others' induced idea of "wealth makes you someone"; that he learns to trust people more and not look at them through his past/present fears, weaknesses and insecurities. Because if he ever falls, not only that he won’t have the strength to get up on his own because he believes his strength is in his possessions rather than in the life he lives, but others won’t hurry to help out unless he has treated them without interest.

As a side note. God has an incredible sense of humor. His new lady's name is my mom's name, the woman who probably suffered more than I did following this divorce. It's just a thought about how we will always be given reminders from "up there" through the small things, if you know where to look.

So here I am, end of 2015.

A friend of mine said recently “You know Jesus died at the age of 33. It is said that this year is the year of penitence and hardship for most people during their lives.” If this is true, I have felt it. But let me tell you this. When I draw the line, only good things happened to me this past year.

My grandfather’s passing away ended his incredible suffering and made me more responsible towards my family. Grandma and I have not always got along very well and Grandpa always acted as an intermediary. Now I had to mend that connection on my own and learn how to go about my grandma in a different way. And it wasn’t easy. We were both stubborn, both hurt and both communicated like idiots. Only because we missed each other's friendship. Now, almost a year away from being left just the three of us we have found a new level of unity and understanding. The loss in itself and the struggle to stay strong gave me more energy and will to not let myself down, keep myself fit and not give in for their sake and mine.

Meeting old friends and listening to them speak about how they saw me when I was younger and how they see me today after so many years worked wonders for me. Because, haha, it seems I was nice, fun and possibly completely insane back then too. Even my “first crush’s” words made a difference despite everything else. For a moment I thought that him, finally making his choice, brought me peace. In truth, I made peace with myself, because his unexpected visit after so long really gave me the chance to let it all go. To clear all the question marks and put an end to all of my excuses of why I need to still hang on to anything related to him.

On the other hand, I was pleased to see that I have taken the right decision in leaving my marriage when I did because looking at all of this happening, other than a normal reaction to unexpected news, I was not sorry nor in regret. I am just content I can see to my life and content to see he is trying again. But. At the same time with his news I got excellent news of a dear friend of ours, Liana. She and her husband Mihai are finally having their much expected and wished for baby! I could not be more happy! I could not be more excited knowing how long they've waited for this to happen! So my heart goes out to them! I loved the happiness on their faces, I loved everything about that news! Wish them all the best and much much love and safe pregnancy!

2015 was partially about anger, hurt and dissapointment.

2015 was a lot about self-control to the point where I almost tore the reins to my mind. 
It was about being brave and being loved.

You must see the full half of the glass. As one man quoted his grandfather on Facebook: because “the glass is beautiful.” And yes. Life is beautiful and we cannot choose to see the pain alone. The desire for vengeance. The desire to cry out your frustration. I called myself stupid many times for not going out there to hit some people in the face. My dear beloved friend John without whose help I would have not come to terms with my August adventure, said that in fact I am strong. Not stupid. But when you’re blinded by so much anger it’s hard to see strength in what you feel like being injustice. So that’s why I was loved. And that’s why I was brave. And that’s why, eventually I pushed my damn self control to the brink. Because the glass is beautiful and hell if I’m going to let anything taint it.

Enjoy a fresh new 2016 and remember:
 Your gut feeling never trully fails you. 
Only the decisons you make. 
Mwuah!

Monday, January 18, 2016

My Deeds 2015. Part I.


*** Part I ***

My dear People of the Journal, it’s been a while. But it’s been an overwhelming year in every way possible. I wanted to write this blog for the entire month of December and every time I’d start, I couldn’t finish the job. It felt there was more to it and that something else was about to happen and I had to wait for the entire year to pass before drawing the line. 

They say Saturn will be in my House of Whatever till 2017 and horoscope wise, it is said Saturn is a "mean" planet. When in fact it’s like a tough teacher to deal with. It forces you to be more mature, take things seriously, whether it is: life, career or relationships, it will make you clean your life of the things, people and drama that you’ve been carrying along for a while. Unfortunately, these lessons don’t come easy – otherwise what’s the fun in it right? Haha

But you know what? Forget horoscope. Let’s get down to facts. The year started off fine with the usual Burns Supper in January, organized by Light into Europe, the NGO that has been a constant for me for the past 8 years. I’m fighting on a daily basis to make people understand that volunteering doesn’t mean just donations. It means time off your lives dedicated to those less fortunate than us (yet tougher fighters than most of us). Burns’ Supper is one of the events organized by the foundation to raise funds for the hearing and visual impaired children and young people.



January was also the time when as usual I gathered Christmas gifts for the children at the Special School for the Deaf. These kids are as loving and normal as any other kid. It’s not them who need to get used to us, it’s us who need to get used to them. Other than that, they are curious and playful and smart and talented and would do so much better than they do now if they had equal chances like the rest of our children. Unfortunately, that fight is still being fought and we’re gaining very little terrain as we go.


Of course, I spent a lot of time at the gym, like my main friggin’ thing to do outside work. Even during the worst of days, whether it was an emotional or physical illness, going to the gym helped me make it better. Be it rainy, cold, windy, stormy, snowy, being annoyed, not in the mood, feeling nauseating or simply bored once I’d get my ass in there and started working out things would just get better. It’s so easy to miss out on these activities. I always tell friends that the best way to treat sports, whatever they are, is to treat them like anything else that’s important to you. You wouldn’t miss your dentist appointment or a meeting for work, but you always tend to reschedule your time at the gym. Well, don’t. If friends call suddenly and ask you to go out on your gym night just say, sorry guys, tonight I’m working out. Create a mindset to hold on to exercising and stick to it like glue. Make it part of your everyday routine.

In February I spent Saint Valentine with my dear friends Cami, Stan and Georgie the people who run the Light into Europe Foundation. They are family and it’s always a pleasure to have them around. It reminds me the amount of quality I can find in some people and why every effort spent their way is worthwhile.

Two weeks later my grandpa passed away. February 25. Needless to go there again. It’s such a painful memory especially now that we are a month away from his death. I cannot believe it has been a year already. He is and will be missed and loved but not mourned. He is where he needs to be, free from pain and I am sure he is helping in influencing some of the things going on now. Te iubesc Gonguta mea si mi-e tare dor de tine! 



At the time of his death I terminated for good a past relationship I had begun in August 2014. I really shared something incredible with that man. A mind connection, the sort where we could "read" each others minds. Still, it was only half of what I am looking for in a man. Regardless, at that point, nothing of what had gone good or bad, clear or unclear in that relationship mattered the moment the guy did not even present his condolences when my grandfather past away. My biggest mistake at all times is thinking that people see and feel things like I do. That we are somewhat alike. At least in what really matters for all of us, as people: someone’s birth, marriage and death. Milestones in everyone’s existence. I was riding the train home this past September while I was in Philly and the man standing next to me started a conversation and mentioned the death of his wife. I said I was sorry for his loss. And I was sorry because I had experienced loss as well and I knew how much it hurts. So if I can say it to a stranger, surely I’d say it to someone I know and care for. So for him not to even bother with that when I had gone out of my way to be there for him when his father past away in November 2014, pissed me off. It was beyond us and our relationship. It was supposed to be human and kind and caring and he didn’t do it. So that was it. Or so I thought.

Easter came along and I went to my college town in Sibiu to see my long lasting and re-connected friend Sanda. It was great fun! Great weather, catching up on memories and literally being college girls all over again. You know how it goes. Partying at night, roaming the streets with friends during the day. It was short lived but worthwhile in every way.


Then the St. George Ball where I met all my hard working friends at the foundation. Ms. Lilly is the one producing all the wonderful things auctioned at the ball working in a small attic crowded with materials and threads and colorful patterns. That’s where some of the deaf kids come in to help and it’s taken out of a magical tale the way they saw and speak in sign language with the radio on. I wish you all got a chance to see that beautiful corner of theirs.


May came along and my friends and colleagues who are professional runners were bitching about getting me out of the gym and onto the streets for some serious running. And knowing the way I am I jumped right into it. My first competition was quite a success. 7th place out of about 2,000 competitors. And from there on I abandoned the gym to run.



Later that month, I participated with other colleagues into the Habitat for Romania project where different teams would come in and work for a few days on a house that was financially covered for by the NGO and then given away to poorer families who could not pay for a lodging such as this.



It was absolutely amazing and I would do it again and again. We set the foundation of the house and I was blessed to have great people in my team. God knows we put every little muscle and tendon and sweat into those shovels and hammers and wooden boards and whatnot. I lost more weight and got more sunburn then than I would’ve all summer haha. No food tasted better than the one we had sitting in the grass in the cool shadow of the trees gazing at our work slowly drawing shape. It gives you a wonderful feeling of accomplishment to see that your hands can make a difference.

Soon enough after this adventure my birthday came along. Yes, on June 12 I turned 33. Pffff. I kind of forgot how to count after 26. It always takes me a little to think how old I am when the doctor asks me haha. It was a great friggin’ time to be old-er. Friends, colleagues, family, my dear Adinut who got me the funniest of glasses and the perfect mug haha were all there to make it incredible for me.  




Then July came along. It was my great pleasure to help organize Eileen's 60th birthday just like I had the year before with Jim. What an incredible journey it's been knowing them for almost 8 years and being part of their lives. 

So we're done with the easy part of last year haha. Before we go on, let me say that last year was all about coming up to go down again. In mid June I got the unexpected return of my first love back when I was about 21. To make a long story short, I loved that guy in a way I won’t love anyone again and in a way no one will ever love him again. Because I just gave that man more than I had given anyone and he meant the world to me for a brief moment in time. It ended  badly with him going after another girl he believed was “the one” for him and being a total jerk to me. Nevertheless, back then, after a couple of years of trying, she turned out to be not so predestined after all. Together with many other things happening afterwards that surely did not make it better between us. Regardless, 13 years passed by and he showed up again (he lives abroad) incredibly enthusiastic to see me, to discuss unfinished business, to make things right. And I was very reluctant to it. He had left me angry, hurt and confused and I was trying to avoid the situation where I'd accept him back into my life and be dissapointed to the bone. I can only go through so much shit once. Eventually, I said fine. A dear friend of mine said, Mela, people grow, maybe he has something to say that will brighten those memories and will help you understand what the heck was happening back then that made him behave that way with you.

We finally had our talk and for a moment I was actually impressed with the fact that he seemed to apologize and remember a lot about us. And seemed to make sense. And seemed to have cared. But in fact as he continued speaking I saw he only remembered the parts he was interested in and liked more. Sex and my attitude. I mean that’s not a bad thing but I was expecting the truth about what truly mattered. I was waiting to see the “changed” man. Instead I felt like watching the same movie from back when we were young. I asked him about the “predestined” woman. And he made it sound like he barely knew anything of her anymore and didn’t really want her around because of various motives. Then he suddenly started saying, “well, we’re both single and whatnot and seems like time has stopped for us in a way so why not get together and have that baby girl we had always planned to have.” And he seemed quite adamant about it. I explained I need to love the father of my baby. I explained sexual desire and midnight hallucinations don’t count for making babies. I mean, if you want to fuck, sure, we can play that game. I have enough hormones for half of this planet. I have never denied my sexuality. But between that and my idea of family there’s a long (very) long way. So it would not be anything more than sex. I might discover I don’t even like it. You know, my taste has somewhat changed since college haha. Still he continued with the infatuation. “I am not leaving this country until I see you! I really missed you.” (we were in different cities when we spoke). And that’s when in the back of my head I knew this guy missed the entire point of who I was and who I am. I had told him that I had divorced my ex-husband because of not wanting to have babies. And still he decided to play that card, knowing it was nothing more than momentary lust and exuberance for him. He thought I was there to take a funny joke. Babies are no joke for me. No man who understands the value of my divorce confession (and his past value in my life) would ask me to have babies with him, jokingly or otherwise. Especially jokingly. But his arousal and infatuation counted more.

I said, let’s see what happens. Given the above mentioned, even my hormones went to sleep. But you know; maybe I caught him on the wrong foot and he was simply too enthusiastic with our first talk. Days passed by, he was on and off, he promised as usual a bunch of things he did not stick to because of whatever reasons, including missing my birthday for which he assured me he’d be there. For someone missing me so much he was far away from showing it. Then in August he suddenly told me that the other woman popped in the picture and is coming to see him. From a different country where she was living. At which I was simply disappointed. Baffled. Enraged. Enraged to be confirmed my worst fears about him. Now he confessed about having been in touch with her all these years, yet still wanted me to understand the irony in his life: this woman coming to see him was a surprise for him. Who would have ever thought of it! I was flabbergasted. He had been fueling that relationship for years and still acted like he had done nothing to contribute to this woman’s cling onto him. I had not caught him on the wrong foot. He was the same guy from years ago. Growing up? Moving forward? Why would he need to? He seemed perfectly fine living his life like that. But did he ever wonder whether I needed his “truth” in my life again? Go get your woman, fucking be with her, marry her, have kids with her and end this stupid drama. I told him that 13 years ago and I surely didn’t want to be the one saying it again now. I was sick. Sick and tired, disgusted and betrayed in having given a second chance to a selfish man who wasted my time twice. To listen to the same nonsense as before. And it was my fault because I let him.

In December last year he married his woman. Finally! I wish he had done it sooner so I can be spared of this entire story. They are made for each other. They really are, no irony implied. He said at some point, we will always be friends. No. No friend of mine ever disrespects me this way. No friend of mine who says they care would ever use me to fill in the blank spaces in their life while making other plans. I am so much better than this! Life is strange you know. Because overall, he is a good man; but not good to me nor good for me. Now, that was predistened and I didn't see it. But I've got that covered now.
Drawing the line, it is bitter that 13 years later I ended up looking back to question this man's role in my life and why I had to be a part of his story. What's even sadder is that, knowing I was not the one for him and acting as if I was a pest in his life, he somehow always made me part of this love affair disregarding how much it must’ve affected me. And all these years later, he did it again as if we didn't have a history on this and we were the best of buddies. You need to do something, be there for someone, let them know you care or think of them somehow if you want to call somebody a friend. Especially a friend who at some point gave you more than you probably deserved. To conclude with, on a scale of sadness (and irony), the worst is that he won't ever understand my point of view and will still blame me for everything. 

It's a pitty, just like I told him. The best part of why I kept a good memory of him and of us was the way I loved him. And the way I loved him set my standard of loving a man in life. Freely. Wholeheartedly. Unconditionatly. Passionately. Each love will be different, but it should feel just as amazing. So thank you for that. And in fact, thank you to myself for being capable of it.

But.Good bye.