24.05.2012 | filled with raw emotion
On Thursday the 24th of May, O was waiting on platform 10, ready to pick me up from my long, no-sleep journey; the poor kid was back on crutches. By surprise, I was taken to see the puppies of his beautiful dog, Zed. Only six weeks old, but with minds as curious as ever - such frivolousness and self-indulgent carelessness made way for one overly happy Nicci. But it gets better.
As my mood changed from a zombie-like state of mind to a cheerful spirit, I was driven to a quiet little grassed area by the river, where a picnic between the two of us was had. I was secretly ecstatic, like a child, as I’ve always wanted to go on one before. Afterwards I huddle up towards O, intertwined between his chest and his arms, keeping me warm and safe while I delve into the infinite depths of the watercolour sky through my imagination. Leaving my parents is always a hard thing to do, but I’d always come back comforted, knowing I’d see you.
I continued to be showered with adoration once we were back home, too. My heart glows warm, and my body turns emotional. Unexpected tears run down my flushed cheeks as I try to wipe them away, but O notices them - feels them. I cry, reassuring him that I’m happy, more than happy. He’s finally convinced and I tell him that “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying”, but he just continues wiping away my tears calmly, revealing the affectionately genuine words of “You’re in love.”
And that I was.
There was something refreshing, about putting things in the wrong place. Leaving dirty laundry on the floor for a day, or letting your stack of textbooks become education rubble. There was something wonderfully blissful about maintaining a desk that was a mess of paints and pens and film canisters. If you could make disorganization beautiful, then you were brilliant.
“I’ve tried three times to write a post defending myself, but it always ends up too long for the little reply. So I’ll just say this. I love her, she is my girlfriend and I am desperate to not be a ‘guy like that’ and I think I’m doing that so far.”
That. That is all I needed to make any trace of doubt disappear. I’m a lucky girl.
Dear You,
I write to you today, for I am tired and I am thinking and I am wondering and—
Does it ever bother you that we don’t know anything? Have you ever noticed that we continue to death? It’s as if we are chasing it, as if we look after ourselves just to disappear, crafting ourselves into dust. Does it really matter anymore? Do we ever matter to anyone other than ourselves? It bothers me, it creates a fear in me. I know there are people out there that care, but how many truly will, forever? It feels like no one will. I worry to much about this fear, that we are just continuing until we are nothing. And it is weirdly normal to me, as if this is it. If we do not matter, nothing matters, no choices, no mistakes.
It is oddly free. I have no future, no past—only freedom.
-Me
Your voice is so comforting. I wish I could talk to you all day. Babble about nonsense, talk about anything. Tell me your troubles, your dreams, your thoughts. Let me just lie there as I soak in your words.
17.05.2012 | surprise phone call
I’m finding hard to fall asleep lately. I packed some sleeping pills, but I try not to take them often. I would hate the thought of becoming reliant on them. Anyway, I had another dream, but it was more of a lucid dream because I was able to hear both my father get up for work and my brother get up for school, but I just wasn’t able to move since I was still in that state of paralysis.
I had a dream that I fell pregnant by accident, but then (after all the tears and worry) grew to love the baby that was growing inside of me. After giving all of this love away, I ended up having a miscarriage and was absolutely distraught. I woke up almost crying and this feeling of dread filled me, as the dream felt so real. I had to stop and think just to realise that it actually was a dream, and a sigh of relief came upon me. Like I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’m fully capable of loving my child unconditionally and genuinely, but I’m not ready to have children yet. I need to fulfil other achievements in my life first, just so I can even feel worthy of bringing a child into this world, and being this child’s mother. I would my child to be proud of me, and I’m not completely proud of myself just yet.
I didn’t do much during the day, and continued being all sleep deprived and drowsy. At around 6pm my family and I decided to go shopping, but this plan didn’t turn out so well, as I got a call from my grandparents saying they wanted to take me out for dinner (and I couldn’t refuse). You see, this month I’ve seen my granddad twice, but before that I wasn’t able to be in contact with him for five years, so now I’m trying to spend as much time as possible with him.
By 7pm I was in their hands and they took me to a beautiful Chinese restaurant, where we shared prawn chow mein, satay chicken, curry chicken and fried rice amongst ourselves. We spoke about many things; mainly about my journey moving apartments, my plan of studying French next semester, and a French movie that granddad raved about and later took me to watch. The movie was called Gainsbourg and is basically based on the life of singer/actor/painter Serge Gainsbourg. It was interesting to see how he became famous, and all the scandal that his life contained. He had affairs with many people, was always intoxicated by cigarettes and alcohol, and changed the way people saw music.
I think I may be going through a phase. An obsession of all things French.
