“It’s important in life to conclude things properly. Only then you can let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse.”

Yann Martel

Homesick

I’ve been feeling kind of homesick lately, which is a bit of a strange feeling because I usually never get homesick. But right now I’m ready to be back in warm weather, in a place where I know my way around, speak the language fluently, and where Im comfortable. Being back in my own home where I grew up and I can be free without inhibitions and without needing to ask in order to be able to do things. Where I don’t have to feel guilty for taking someone else’s internet, where I don’t have to be self conscious, where I can have clean laundry without having to wait for other people to use the laundry machine. While I was in France I was so tired of long distance and looking forward to having it end and being with him again so much that I sort of forgot that sometimes it can get uncomfortable here in Oregon. The family drama isn’t my own, I don’t know my way around, I depend on someone else to drive me around and take me places. It even feels like my free time isn’t my own because it’s governed by someone else’s obligations and someone else’s needs.

It makes for a really strange sort of life, to be visiting here. Because I’m his girlfriend, I’m included in all the family drama, but because it’s only my second time here, I’m not familiar to it all and it’s hard figuring out how to react properly to it. His friends are here but I know no one, so every now and then when his friends call him to hang out and I tag along, it feels a bit like I’m imposing. Even though for the most part I know it’s ok and that he enjoys it (or at least doesn’t mind having to take me everywhere) I know that there are people he doesn’t see just because I’m here. And then there’s the deal with his ex. They stayed really good friends and I’ve never really been ok with that. She’s no threat, I know that. It just feels like she imposes herself too much, wants too much of him, and she’s never been in  a serious relationship, let alone a long distance one, so that’s posed some problems. Whether or not it’s within my rights (and he for the most parts definitely doesn’t think it is) I’ve never wanted to flat out tell him not to hang out with her, and I know he cuts it down a lot while I’m here, but it still doesn’t feel like he’s considerate enough. He invited her to his dad’s 50th birthday party AND to his dad’s marriage (which is, by itself, quite the interesting story that makes me question his, his dad’s, and men’s character in general) and it just feels like he doesn’t realize, no matter how many times I explain this to him, how awkard it is for me, especially in front of his whole family. 

I’m glad to be taking a break from France because I needed it, and I’m glad to be back with him. But, even if in two months I’ll be tired of it and ready to leave and will be making promises to never go back, being home right now is just exactly what I need.

Livin’ the Lazy Life

We lazed around in bed all day cuddling, having sex and watching movies. We only got up to go out for a late breakfast and a late dinner with friends. I’d forgotten how fucking amazing it is to spend your day like that.

Future Plans

He just took his lsats and now he’s been looking at law schools, obviously. It really makes me think about how the future is going to work out. He graduated college cum laude with a 3.88 GPA, which theoretically speaking should open up a ton of doors. But he doesn’t do so well on the LSAT, and he had trouble with his watch so the one section that always brings up his score, he might have bombed. Realistically speaking he should start law school in 2 years, max. In two years, Ill have my undergrad degree in french law…but I’ll still need two more years in France to get my international law diploma, which is all I have been working towards for the past 2 years. Tears, sweat, stress…it’s been hard. And if he wants me to come back to the US with him to do a master’s degree here (and it’ll have to be in something other than law), I sort of feel that I’ll be selling myself out. To top it off, I’ll be giving up my dream for someone who won’t even get into a top tier law school.

I doubt we’ll ever be able to do long distance again, if we’re to stay together. And he can’t wait for me four years in France. And I’ve told him that I’d be willing to sacrifice, and to more to the states and do my master’s degree here so we can stay together, that I wouldn’t even bat an eye. But that isn’t the truth. And it;s just been stressing me out so much. I’m only 20, I don’t feel like I should be having to plan my life so far ahead yet…and I’m not sure I’ll be able to just give up my dreams. After all the things I’ve lived and been through in order to be able to stay in France and study there, can I just give up my dream halfway through for someone, no matter who it is?

Back in Oregon

Absolutely grueling trip. Lyon to Madrid, 2 hour layover, Madrid to Miami (although at least that was business class. Go Daddy!! =P), 4 hour layover during which I had to pick up my bags and check in AGAIN, Miami to Dallas, Dallas to Portland. All this on 1 hour of sleep. To top it off, I got questionned in Miami because I wrote down Nicaragua as my country of residency since I do not have french residency.

Security: What’s in the suitcases?

Me : Oh, just clothes, mostly

S: Seems like an awful lot of clothes for just a two week stay in Oregon

M: Well Im taking most of it back home since I live in France and I wanted to free up space in my appartment

Apparently I had too much clothes and raised suspicion since I was only coming to the states for two weeks, and since I can’t renew my visa for France for next year yet, I had no prove that I was going to go back. News flash, gringos : I have no interest in becoming an illegal alien in your country, or anyone else’s.

Apart from that the only intereting thing about the trip was that I allegedly met one of Shakira’s manager on the plane from madrid to miami, but of course I have no way to prove he’s legit. My flight from Dallas was delayed for an hour and I got into Portland an hour late. By the time I was walking towards him, I was so tired and only concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I almost missed him.

The feeling of finally going up to him and putting my arms around him rivals no other. I hadn’t been able to go that for over 6 weeks. The first kiss is always like a little piece of heaven, sweeter than the sweetest nectar. For that first night, I was in paradise. Even more so because this means that officially, at least for the next 2 years, long distance is over. We made it.

For the second night, however, things took a turn for the worst. It all started over absinth, a drink he promised me we’d try together since he’d brought back bottles from I think Prague. Except he’s been trying it out with other people and barely even has enough for two shots left. It wasn’t so much the drink as the fact that I’m so tired of missing out on his life that got me angry. To be honest, now, almost four days later, I don’t remember what made the fight escalate. I do remember I didn’t want to talk about it, but he convinced me. Once he got me to tell him what was bothering him, I obviously wanted to talk about it. He didn’t, and aggressively threw him at me for sex. I didn’t want sex, I wanted to talk. I told him so. It wounded his ego and he turned away from me. I told him I needed to talk, to turn back to me. He didn’t. He refused, no matter what I said. I got angry. I lost my temper.

It feels like I’ve lost some of the progress I’ve made in being able to control my temper. When I was younger and I finally became old enough to realize it was a problem that I had to learn how to control, I exerted all my willpower in learning how to do so. It’s one of the reasons why I became as closed to other people as I am today. If I force myself not to care, I can’t get angry and my temper can’t get the best of me. However, he made me care. And nine months of long distance, of cheating, of fighting, of loneliness, of waiting…it’s done strange things to me. One of them being that I don’t have as much self control as I used to. He wouldn’t turn to me and I was angry and I wanted to and needed him to hold me and he woulnd’t. And all those times he would just leave and not talk to me while long distance I told myself it was just the distance, that it wouldn’t happen anymore once we were together. But here it was, my worse nightmare coming true. I lost it and I pushed him. Yes, at 4′11″ and 95 pounds I’m tiny and can do no real harm to him. But I pushed him over and over trying to get him to turn to me in blinding pain and anger. He wouldn’t. I scared him. He locked himself in the bathroom. And I cut myself.

Eventually it was over. He didn’t notice the cuts until the next morning, and that even more drama. But we got past it, more or less, promises were exchanged. I’d try not to lost my temper, I wouldn’t self harm again, he’d be better about not being stubborn and listening to me and not turning away.

Except there was another incident just two days after. There was a text message I wanted him to send, that he had promised me he would send. He didn’t. And while texting his ex, I reached over to grab his cellphone out of curiosity and he pulled it away from me. I got angry, because he always feels it’s more than within his rights to look at my every single text message and yet here he is hiding his cellphone from me. He said it was innocent, that he just didn’t want to get bitched out for texting his ex. It’s such a complicated topic between the two of us that if I step back and look at it logically, I understand, I don’t blame him. But affairs of the heart rarely follow logic. He gave me his cellphone so I could see, and all I noticed was that he hadn’t sent the message he promised me. I got angry again and slammed the phone on his stomach. He pushed me, hard. He kicked me when I tried to follow him. He called me a coward. He left, he wouldn’t talk to me. All the self control I have taught myself since the age of about 8 was out the window and I could barely control the tears. A thousand times awkard because we were at his graduation bbq at his grandparent’s house, surrounded by family members that I was meeting for the first time. If we hadn’t been, I know for certain I would have cut again. He wouldn’t talk to me. I had crossed the line again. But hadn’t he too? Once again, before I slammed his phone on him, he wouldn’t talk to me, he would barely listen, he wouldn’t touch me. It’s so hard for him to understand how much I need him to not get to the point where he won’t touch me right now. Things have been too fucked up, they’ve been too hard, I’ve been too lonely, I’ve been waiting for too long for his touch and when I get here he still denies it…

We’re ok now, again, a full day later. He’s off taking his LSAT. But the drive from Portland to Salem was the most hellish car ride of my life. He thought about leaving me, I thought about him for my own sanity. It’s too late and I guess I’m too invested, I’m too hell bent on not being alone in Lyon next year. I’m just tired of the loneliness. But as for my mental health, I honestly don’t know how I’ll get back to where I once was.

I prided myself on being cold, calculated, I had reached a level of self control most people don’t ever. I hadn’t cried in years before last year, I hadn’t shed a single tear. Maybe I went too long without letting myself feel properly, without caring. Or maybe this was just an inevitable result of living alone in a foreign country, with no friends, no family and no one to support me, since the age of 17.

I’m committed. But I’m committed now to more than he knows. I’m committed to making us again ok, but I’m also committed to dettaching myself. I’m committed to gaining back my self control, I’m committed to once again hiding my vulnerability from the rest of the world. I’m committed to being self sufficient once more. I just know how to do that and at the same time get our relationship back to what it once used to be. I suspect it won’t be easy, I suspect it might not even be possible. But I’m committed to trying. Mostly, I’m committed to getting my sanity back.

We were happy once upon a time…

He deserves better. And I deserve better. And to be honest, if I weren’t leaving in less than 48 hours, if it weren’t incredibly expensive to change my ticket, I would break up with him…

Except it is so I won’t. And once I’m back with him, I know I won’t be able to leave him. And the fucked up part is, I don’t care anymore, how he treats me. I don’t care anymore, how many tears I’ve shed. I just don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to have to get over someone again. Because it broke me the first time and I’m not sure I have the strength yet to do it again.

Packing

“and just seal the mother F’ing deal in terms of you being a hypocrite”

Maybe I’m fooling myself. All the times I’ve told myself he doesn’t mean it, the things he’s said, that it’s been the distance, that it’s been bcause we’re fighting, that he’s hurt, that it’ll all work out once we’re together. Except this time we weren’t fighting, he wasn’t hurt, we weren’t angry…

Every time I lean down to put something else in my suitcase, getting ready to go see him, it’s like another dagger slashing through my heart. 

Mis días son todos tan distintos, lo que no cambia es la espera. Todos los días espero que sea mañana, y en la espera no vivo, y si no vivo no siento, y si no siento, no amo, no me arriesgo, y sigo esperando sin vivir. Bienvenidos a mi cadena viciosa.

I hate you sometimes