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. 7^th 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.