So, talking about an impressive day, yesterday was quite impressive on me! It still gives me chills down my spine when I think of it. In fact, it was a good day. Boring classes, but we laughed a lot! Yes, it had been a good day. We all walked together to our cars and said goodbye to one another. I got into my car, started the engine and gave it a go. After a few metres, things went completely wrong! I started to feel dizzy, uncomfortable and weird! I somehow didn't feel my body anymore, yet very strong at the same time. I saw black spots everywhere and had this strange feeling in my hands and feet. I was terrified!!
I opened my car window to let some fresh air in. I felt better, for about the one full second. I had no idea what to do and was so afraid I'ld collapse. I don't know how precisely, but I got home. I couldn't walk straight anymore. I stumbled upstairs and ended on my bed. Walls and ceiling were dancing around me. Seriously, that feeling sucks so hard, big time!
Normally I had an appointment with my physiotherapist, but I couldn't drive like how I felt. I wanted to him but my phone was downstairs in my handbag. I felt so miserable I could cry. Went downstairs, took my phone and stumbled all the way back to the bathroom. When I saw my face in the mirror, I bursted out in tears. I called my far away friend, she couldn't help off course, but I was glad to hear her friendly, caring voice!. I felt dizzy and shaking but managed to shower. Mu brother suggested he'ld bring me to my physiotherapist.
I sat in the waiting room, resting my head against the wall. I sat there for about 10 minutes, then it was my turn. When I stood up, I saw everything changing into black again. I walked to his office whit the therapist walking behind me. He asked 'What happend this time?' while smiling? I turned around and said: 'I don't feel okay'. He answered 'I can see that.' and just managed to give me some support before I completely collapsed. He layed me down on his table with my feet and legs a little higher. I was nervous and anxious, guess he saw it on my face. But he was so professional and friendly that I was happy my brother drove me there.
He asked me to realx my shoulders, but I couldn't. So he gently pushed my shoulders down and said: 'You'll be okay now, you're safe and in very good hands. No worries for I'll take care of you now.' That really eased the panic inside of me. He asked me questions about what I've had for lunch and dinner, if I drink enough and sleep enough. No judging. Yesterday, he really was my rock. He managed to be perfectly what I needed when I collapsed and was very scared. I had this cold shivers all over my body so he turned up the heater and gave me a blanket.
We smiled when he said out loud he almost couldn't imagine this was happening to me again. He did this special massage trick in my neck to raise my blood pressure. He've spent more time than he normally does, but by the time I walked out, I didn't feel so dizzy anymore. My brother drove me back home and again, I went straight to bed, for I was tired. Exhausted!
One of my Facebookfriends, a photographer posted pictures in an album named 'Viking Run'. I saw people running and climbing completely covered in mud! Winsome to look at!! I asked my friend Google all out about 'Viking Run' and found out there's this organisation called 'Strong Viking Run'. Few runs a year in defferent themes as water, hills, mud and brother edition. All of these runs are in 7, 13 or 19 km. They all have challenging obstacles in them where you sure as hell will need some hardcore muscles! Survival run at it's best. Just how I love it. I decided to train harder and do this. Because I believe I can do so. I am and will be strong enough! The next mud edition is in Ghent, April 23, 2016. I'll be soaked and covered with mud too but I'm SOOOOO thrilled to get started!! Tomorrow night I'll buy my lightning ticket for my first 7 km survival run. Just because I CAN!!
I'm chatting with one of my friends. She asks how I'm doing and what I'm up to. I tell her about my Amaluna tickets from Cirque Du SOleil. I also told her that many people I know are suggesting I should ask them out. But the ugly truth is that when I bought these tickets, I bought two. I was saying to myself: By that time you will allready have a boyfriend. I imagined Amaluna as a perfect night out. Handsome fella came over to my place with a fancy car to pick me up, have a gorgeous night out together, guy brings me back home.
None of that is about to happen. My friend tells me to look for an escort. Just a handsome guy who knows what it's like to look after a girl and have a pleasant night out with. Though I had the feeling that I failed in life I went to my friend Google and saw my fingers typing male escort. Well, they're expensive. And not 'round my age, it would have been nice to find a good looking younger man. While shutting my computer down I thought about what I could do with all that money if I was an escort.
We're busy with cardiology at school. It's super interesting to finally be able to understand different rhythms and the different parts of the heart pumpin'. We got to make ECG's from each other. So, one after another we pulled out our T-shirts to lay down on the bed. We were all fine, it was fun! So much more respectfull than in a hospital, unfortunetly. I laughed my ass off while 2 of my collegues were looking for and caunting my ribs. Everything was set up and ready. The teacher pushed the 'start' button and my ECK came rolling out. A paper with my heartbeats on it. Completely regular, with a perfect P-QRS-T complex, yet so unique, my own heartbeats...
It's decided! I'm going to do a nude photoshoot. * HYPERVENTILATING*RUNNING CIRCLES*SCREAMING*FREAKING OUT* Okay, once again: I'm going to do A NUDE PHOTOSHOOT. From now on I'll try to breath normal and stop screaming. But I'm SO EXCITED. I mean, so excited. This is one of the things I really wanted to do for a long time, but I never took the step, because of... yes! Fear! It still scares the crap out of me but this time I'll push through.
In the end, I have to learn there's nothing wrong with nudity, or nude photography. If it's done by an artist, I'm not talking about cheap nude photos. I'm vulnerable and that's want I want to show myself in these photos. Though it will be quite a big lesson this time. Sometimes (most of the time) I'm ashamed to be naked and I'm completely uncomfortable with beeing sexy. Let alone pose sexy on a set.
So, here's my plan. I made two Pinterest Boards to show my photographer. So he'll have an idea of what kind of style I like. I've made a nude board and a boudoir board. The nude board is completely nude, but all classy! The boudoir board is way more sexy in some kind of way! Intentionally, I thought to use the lingerie/boudoir shoot if I should get cold feet and don't dare to go all naked. But at this point I'm not sure anymore, because the boudoir will ask a lot more sexy acting and doing.
Anyway, I'll bring EVERYTHING - sorry, everything - to the studio and let me be guided by the very professional photographer who said he did really like my style.
My make-up will be very basic, my hair just brushed and the rest will be naked truth. And you know what? I just can't wait to see myself through the eyes and camera of someone else.
At the first day of school I helped to hand out everyone their books. I got the last pack of books and today in class, it turned out it was a complete different version, so I couldn't really follow and take notes as I should.
On my way to the secretary I saw two of my favourite teachers. They just arrived at school and I gave them my most glorious and warm welcome as I always do. They smiled and walked on. 'I like to call her my sunflower.' said one teacher to the other. 'She always looks so pretty and bright with her eyes smiling and warm... Yeah, she's my sunflower.' 'Yes, that's true', said the other teacher while I heard their voices fading away into the teachers room.
Words are important to me. I always strive to use the right words and words that sound both positive and magical. I always get chills down my spine when somebody speaks to me with the right words too, or words that I really love!
If you want to wish someone good luck there are twee sayings. 'Best of luck' and 'All the best'. I've heard that you should use the first one if you're saying it to someone younger than you and the second one to someone older than you.
Y. is one year older as I am. Today he had an important day in court. This morning I've texted him 'Best of luck', because he doesn't deserve the right 'All the best'. Could have meant anything. Best of luck in court, in his office, in his life, on his travels, on his search for the right partner in his life, ... Few minutes later he answered: 'Thx :D'.
You're an ass Y, an ass! That was rude and you know it.
Anyway. Now I'll be switching on my television to watch the news. I'm pretty sure this handsome loyer will appear in a pretty suit and his smooth face. That'll be the last time I see him. After that he don't deserve my time or energy anymore.
I woke up at 5 am this morning. I wanted to turn around and sleep some more, but I decided to get up. I did the superman (read: superwoman) pose for 5 minutes and went to the bathroom. My running clothes have their own space all together, 'cause that makes it easy when I want to leave fast for a run. 2 minutes later I closed the front door of my house after me and faced the darkness of what is called 'night'.
Placing one foot in front of the other, over and over again, for about 6 kilometres! I was mad, even furious, I admit it. It made me ran fast and longer. Faster and longer than I normally can. It took about half of the run to empty my head and still my mind. I ran in total darkness and felt small but strong at the same time for doing this.
You know, the road doesn't ask silly questions. It's just there to steady me. No matter how dark it is, how fast or slow I go. Even if my body decided to fall, I know it's there, the road. So I ran on even when I saw nothing anymore and the trees felt like shadows of cruel monsters. I ran on.
Because when the train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don't throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer. What this means in my life is that I trust in God and that I'll give love one more try, always one more try.
PS: Yesterday, late night, I did found the song! It did what it had to do! <3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBzcOUOY5YY
I woke up early this morning with tired aching eyes. I felt lost because I felt dumped somehow. I wrote wrote wrote about 6 other pages in my notebook. I left to work and payed extra attention not to forget my phone.
I worked, was friendly as always to our costumers. I faked a smile every time I happily said 'Goodmorning! How can I help you?!'
Every now and then I checked my phone to see if there was a new message, but nothing came in. By the time it was 11.27 am my phone was making the noise of a text message comming in. I wasn't excited, because I taught I would have been someone, you know, not HIM. My boss said: It'll be him! Look at your phone!
She was right, it was him. This was what he wrote me: 'Hi! I couldn't text you yesterday because I had the brilliant idea to change my mobile subscription. :/ No worries! :)
I answered: Hi Y! glad to hear that! :) Beeing unreachable sucks indead. :/ Did you get some rest after your busy first week at your office? Happy Sunday! :)
And guess what. Ever since I've hit sent I didn't hear a message comming in. I feel lost again. I found a playlist on Youtube with sad violin music. It still doesn' to the thing, but it beats the silence a little. Maybe it was just too perfect to be true...
It hurts me so much because it was the first time I have ever felt so good on a date with a man. And not just a man. Y is as I wrote super handsome, clever, tender, gentle, ... He was everything I've ever wanted to see and have in a man. Yet it looks like the best thing I have never had, in fact. It also hurts because I have the feeling that I will never, ever find someone like him again.
So, this was my part 3 from a story that started so lovely with such a lovely man. It seems to end a bit more tragic for me. Don't tell me I'll find another one like him soon, or to get over it or to whatever what. I am a pisces, a very emotional one. So I'll need some time to cope with this. I also have the feeling that part 3 is the last part too though I hope so much I can write you and myself a happy ending in many many following parts in which we see each other again, go out, have walks, go to the circus and on holidays, ...
As you've read before I went to bed happy as a puppy. So guess how I woke up. TRUE! Happy as a puppy. That only happened at 3 AM. I felt like I almost didn't slept at all but I was wide awake. I shared long cuddles with my dog R. who was still tired. :D So I've let him sleep some more and started to write in my notebook. I wrote about my date with Y. Normally in the morning I only write about 2 pages, this time I wrote 5 pages. I was completely overwhelmed by his charms.
When morning finally came I decided to get out of bed. That was 'bout 6.30 am. I got downstairs with my dog and made myself a cup of coffee. I enjoyed the taste a little bit better than usual. I knew it was too early to text him or receive a text from him. So I started to clean my house in a happy mood! Have to admit that my house has never been this clean before and I have never enjoyed doing it so much. In fact I wasn't able to stop thinking about how our date was!
By the time it was 10 am I had everything done I decided to get showered and pay my mom a visit whilst she was working. I arrived just before noon and she didn't had her lunchbreak yet, so we were able to lunch together. She told me how beautiful I was with the curls still in my hair. So listened while I kept on talking about Y. I just couldn't stop saying: 'WHAT A MAN!'. :D My mom was so happy for me and said I deserve one like him.
But in between it was allready 1pm and I didn't heard something from him. I took my phone and looked the number up of a friend. I wrote her that I've never before was so addicted to my phone and I still didn't got anything from him. She answered not to worry. She also wrote that he maybe wanted to sleep a little longer after a busy week. He'll answer, she wrote. I thanked her and drove home.
3.52 pm, message to the friend: I'm going insane!! :( 4.01 pm, message from the friend: Don't despair! He'll be busy with something. It took him a long time yesterday too, to answer. It'll come. You'll see. 4.02 pm, message to the friend: *sigh* thank you. I hope it so so so much.
I got home and tried to sudy for school but my mind wandered every single time to Y again. I tried to find some musice to soothe my aching heart. But I couldn't find anything! Not pianomusic, not Tracy Chapman with the promise, not Stay with me from Twilight, not Sweet Goodbyes from Krezip did the thing. These songs are part from my normal 'cry a little and move on-pack'. But it didn't felt right. I was nervous, anxious, wondered about what could have happened, ... Minutes looked like hours, but eventually evening came.
7.38 pm, message to the friend: Still nothing... 7.55 pm, message from the friend: Oh, that's strange, didn't expected that. What are you going to do? 7.59 pm, message to the friend: I don't know! :( I wanted to text him but have no idea what to write. Don't want to be hopeless in his eyes too. 8.06pm, message from the friend: Yes, I also wouldn't send something. On the other side you can make your text sound like you're worried because you didn't hear him anymore. Maybe he'll answer that. 8.08 pm, message to the friend: Something like this? Hi Y! I hope you got home well yesterday night. Happy weekend! 8.11 pm, message from the friend: Yes! And also write that you find it a bit strange that you didn't hear him anymore. 8.13 pm, message to the friend: Doesn't that sound too pushy? Should I give him the chance to say that he didn't liked me? Hi Y! I've found it a little strange that I didn't hear you anymore. I hope you got home well yesterday night. Happy weekend! 8.15 pm, message to the friend: Hi Y! I've found it a little strange that I didn't hear you anymore, but I also don't want to be pushy. I hope you got home well yesterday night. Happy weekend! 8.17 pm, message from the friend: Yes, that's fine, you can't do more. But in the end if he had a good or bad feeling about the date, he could have let you known something. 8.19 pm, message to the friend: Yes, true! It's okay if I'm not what he's looking for but he could have said that instead of that we'ld be hearing and texting each other. 8.19 pm, message to the friend: I've hit 'sent'. 8.22 pm, message from the friend: You'll see if he answers. I hope so! 8.23 pm, message to the friend: If he gets in touch with me, I'll let you know. Thanks again!!!
So, this message was sent to him but I got more nervous than before! I didn't even gave my phone the chance to go in stand-by mode. I kept on looking while my heart was aching. At 9 pm I went to bed! Though I was completely exhausted I couldn't find some sleep. I kept on looking to my phone and my heart skipped a beat every time there was an alarm from Facebook or Viber or Whatsapp or whatever. But I didn't got anything. I bursted out into tears. I felt so lost. I really had such a good feeling about our date and him... I opened Youtube to find another song for my heart but couldn't find the right track. I didn't really slept. You know, that feeling between beeing awake and actual sleeping. That was it. The whole night!My eyes burned from beeing so tired!
I woke up early because I had to go to work. I thought again on Fridaynight, our date. Yeah, this was the best thing I have (n)ever had.
So... As many of you are wondering how my date was with Mr. Y., you'll find the full report right here! I will write it in different parts/episodes. I actually wanted to write it in 3 parts, but I'm not sure anymore I'll be able to capture it in only 3, so we'll see where we end. For now... Part 1.
When I came home from school on FridayI had a terrible headache so I went to bed and slept for 3 hours. After that I started to curl my hair which took about one hour and a half. While the curls where cooling down I went to bed again, headache still wasn't gone! I've put the alarm at 6 pm, which gave me 1 hour to get ready to leave for my date. I woke up and went to the bathroom. My hair looked absolutely adorable with these curls, I was happy with the result. I did some bobby pins and hairspray in it to keep everything into place. I did my make-up which was only concealer, a fine eyeliner and some mascara. Put on my dress and killer heels (I didn't want to look like Tumbalina!). And I was ready to go at 6.57 pm. I left the house and drove to R.
On my way I stopped to text him that if he would be early and he wanted to go in, the reservation was on my name. Almost immediatly I got a message back from him: 'Allright ;) but some, humble young men still wait for the woman to arrive. ;) See you in a minute.' Though I sat down in my car I felt my legs shaking a bit. So he truly is a gentleman, was what I thought. I went to the bank in a hurry and finally parked my car on the big square. Got another text from him: 'The high blue car is mine, though he's dirty in between from the appreciate farmers, but still... :/' I looked around but couldn't see a blue car. When I started walking I noticed a very high blue car. It was a Citroen, a car just a bit smaller than mine. Though I actually expected a more fancy car from him I texted 'A Citroen?' and got answered right away 'Nope, Subaru.' While I was reading this message I looked down my left side and saw another blue car, sure this was it. A fancy blue sportscar. Well, fancy... you know, I don't like it that much, but it totally fitted his personality. He got out of his car and we kissed each other.
I apologized for thinking he was driving the Citroen but said that his car was a little lower and I didn't see that between the other cars. He was tall, handsome, looked good, smelled good, was galant and genlte. He leaded the way, held the door open for me, gave me the seat, I was allready blown away. Seriously. Everything became SO very clear to me! This was the kind of man I'm looking for, I only didn't realize there were still young men like him alive. I felt so glorious. The girl at the restaurant was very friendly as usal and gave us the menu. Y. was doubting his choice and asked me if I knew that one plate was good? I answered that a friend of mine always took it and finds it delightful. So he chose that. He asked if I wanted to drink wine. When I answered that I don't drink alcohol at all he was clearly surprised. I told him that he shouldn't look at me and drink wine if he wanted to. And he said: 'No not at all! I'm strive to drink no alcohol, I will follow you! Shall we share a bottle of sparkling water instead?' I agreed. We ordered and then we started talking. I actually wanted to listen more than I should've been talking, but he started with 'So, you dance?!'. I told him about it and asked him out about his work after that. It was SUCH a pleasure to listen to him! His voice was so soft and strong at the same time! We talked about holidays, life, everyday stuff, circus, cirque du soleil ... we never had an akward silent moment. And I think I can say that we both talked and listened equal.
The food was delicious, but because I still felt a little sick I didn't ate that much. I was also too busy with looking and listening to him. Time passed away and I was sure that this was the best date I have ever had! We we're joking, smiling, laughing, talked about more serious stuff. He asked the bill and refused to let me pay a part. He asked if I ate the mints that we're given. He gave me his too. You can have it. We also got a little chocolate. He opened his and threw away the paper, while I was reading the 'Did you knew' on the inside. He didn't knew and opened his paper again after I told that.
When we walked out the restaurant he again held the door for me. We walked side by side while we we're still talking and we walked to his car. He asked where my car was. I answered mine was a bit further in the row and very polite he asked if it was okay he'ld walk me there. 'That would be lovely' I answered. I was impressed! How many guys still do that? This is the FIRST one in my life who ever asked that to me! He saw my glasses and the golden medaille from dreambootcamp in my car. I said that I also do competitions with bellydance. He was impressed. I was flattered. We gave each other a kiss and he said to me that we'ld be texting and hearing each other again soon.
I got in my car and freaked out a little. I screamed and found a smile far, far behind my ears. When I got back home I took my phone and wrote him this: 'Many thanks for this very pleasant night! Safe travels. x' I got answer right away (which means he drives and texts at the same time :/ ). 'You're most welcome. You too! Could not happend on my own! x'. I answered once again with 'Yes, that's true :)' and went to bed.
I was happy like a puppy and couldn't sleep. I was wide awake and though it was night I've checked my phone every waking hour.
This was the best date I have ever had! That was the only think I could think. The best that I have ever had!
I sing. In class, in the shower, in my car. In fact I sing almost everywhere at any time. Unless I'm sad. Today I had for the first time ever a serious anxiety attack. I hitted on me and got me. I was clearly overstressed, my heart pumped like crazy, the adrenaline rushed through my veins but still didn't make me able to think clear, I had trouble breathing and cried.
I could no longer sing. On those moments I wish there was someone's who knows the songs in my heart and could sing them to me for I can not remind the lyrics. Or even just whispering would be fine too! But there was no singing or whispering.
Oh, what I would do to cry and bury my face into the chest of a loving, caring man who would soothe me to sleep and say I'll be okay. That the only thing I need to do right now is breath slowly and let go of the sorrow while I can be sure I won't fall because he's holding me tight and won't let me go before he knows I'll be fine again. Before he knows I've found the words again to start singing the songs in my heart.
Tonight I go early to bed. Trying to breath slowly and ease my rushing heart a bit. And I'll stare at the empty side of the bed... Wondering about what he would say to me when he would lay there. <3
I had a fabulous summer! I'm serious. The best ever I guess. Though it was also quite emotional in every kind of way you could imagine. Here's the thing: for the first time EVER I went on a holiday, all by myself. It took me a lot of courage to finally book my ticket, to pack my bag, to get onto the train and even more, to get out of it when it eventually arrived in London. I felt so little, but also brave, because I did this and I did it all by myself.
Beeing in London was amazing, I can not even describe in words how fantastic it was! Despite what I thought I haven't felt a moment alone. Uncomfortable? Yes! But I figured it all out. I went to flying trapeze classes organised by Gorilla Circus in Regent's Park. I flew! I had the time of my life. And yet I can still say it over and over again and keep on writing pages about how great everything was, coming back to Belgium was something different.
When I arrived in Brussels I saw that the men were not wearing nice suits but jeans instead. Oh man, how I adore men in suits... Back home I had to start doing the laundry, cleaning, ... No more 'breathing time'. I just had to rush from one thing to another and I only felt (and still feel) miserable. After a few days going on like that I decided I would not be able to keep up with that without loosing myself completely. But, but, but. I have no idea where to start nor what to do. I don't even know anymore what I want in life? Maybe even who I am? It's confusing.
After bursting out into tears on every possible moment I let go by now. Sometimes it's okay to be not okay. I'm planning a new trip to London to soothe my heart. I have awesome photoshoot-projects coming up, I ordered pictures from my Princess photoshoot erlier this summer, I'm no longer waiting on the barman to text me to go out and have dinner, I'm planning my first real burlesque class, ... And between all of that the only thing I HAVE TO DO is breathing. One breath, than another. Everything else will follow on it's time. Because this is not the end of me. :')
Deze namiddag heb ik mijn echo. Sinds deze ochtend speelt het al in mijn hoofd en het maakt me letterlijk kotsmisselijk als er aan denk. Ik mag straks met mijn benen open op een tafeltje in een donkere kamer gaan liggen waar een norse dokter van ver wat gel op mijn benen laat vallen om daarna de gevraagde beelden te maken. Bah.
Sinds ik vorige week naar de fysio ben gegaan heb ik alleen maar nachtmerries over de blessure. De worst-case scenario's zijn: -Een liesbreuk die moet geopereerd worden, klassiek of laparoscopisch, waarna ik op intensieve beland vanwege de te lage bloeddruk -Een botbreuk in mijn bekken waarmee ik 6 weken lang moet stilliggen in een ziekenhuisbed -En uiteraard 6 weken NIETS doen van dans/acrobatie/...
Eigenlijk wou ik schrijven dat het fijn zou zijn mocht er iemand meegaan, gewoon om me het gevoel te geven dat ik het niet alleen hoef te doen en dat het wel goed komt. Maar dat is niet zo, dus moet ik er niet over zeuren.
Gisteren liep ik rond in mijn lievelingssnuisterwinkel, met tevens een heel erg leuke verkoopster. Zoals altijd gaf ik haar de laatste stand van zaken van de mannen in mijn leven en de dates en alles wat ik alleen doe maar liever met mijn man wil doen.
Ze luisterde heel aandachtig en besloot met de woorden: 'Ik vind jou echt moedig!'. Ik schrok me een hoedje dat iemand dit tegen me zei en voelde me voor een keer begrepen!
Nu zeg ik nog liefste, omdat je nog een beetje (lees: veel) in mijn hoofd én mijn hart zit. Maar eigenlijk ben je precies niet zo lief. Hoewel je wel zo overkomt of overkwam. Zo knap, attent, sympathiek, ... Volgens mij ben je gewoon 'bang'.
Je weet het vast nog wel, die eerste keer dat ik op je terras zat en je mij een koffie kwam brengen, september vorig jaar. De gemeenschappelijke vriendin had je aan me voorgesteld als de perfecte match en ik ben er zeker van dat ze dat bij jou over mij ook heeft gedaan.
Vele koffies, berichtjes zonder antwoord en frustraties later liep gisteren de emmer over. Letterlijk. Je hebt me pijn gedaan. Zoveel dat ik er moest van huilen omdat ik gisteravond nog niet doorhad dat je mijn tranen eigenlijk niet waard bent. Nadat ik je had gevraagd om samen naar de Gentse Feesten te gaan, kon dat blijkbaar alleen samen met je vrienden. Ik kon helaas niet de dag dat je voorstelde en ik zou me ongelooflijk ongemakkelijk hebben gevoeld mocht ik toch zijn meegegaan. Ik ken toch helemaal niemand van je vrienden?! :/ Je stuurde dat het nog wel een keer zou passen en dat je het me zou laten weten als je in Gent zou zijn. Mijn hart maakte een vreugesprongetje toen het dit berichtje las. Ik dacht dat je er eindelijk klaar voor was. Dus ik wachtte. Er gingen enkele dagen voorbij en je had nog steeds niet gestuurd, daarom besloot ik jou nogmaals te sturen. Je schreef me terug dat je me niet vergeten was hoor. En dat je vrijdag misschien zou gaan, naar de Feesten.
Mijn hart was blij gisteren! Het wachtte op het moment dat er het verlossende berichtje van jou zou komen hoe laat je er zou zijn. Maar namiddag werd avond en mijn telefoon bleef stil. Ik was echt niet van plan om je NOG eens te sturen. Ik nam de auto terug naar huis en onderweg brak ik ineens. Het was nu wel duidelijk hoe belangrijk ik voor je was, of hoe mooi en spannend een avond had kunnen zijn (jouw woorden!) met mij. Waarom stuurde je me eigenlijk minions met hartjes in hun ogen? En al die kusjes? Dat betekende vast niets voor je.
Heel erg teleurgesteld en 'bend, not broken', kroop ik gisteren in bed en checkte ik voor een laatste keer of je naam niet op mijn scherm was verschenen.
Vanochtend hoorde ik de gemeenschappelijke vriendin via de telefoon, ze vertelde me over het gezellige etentje dat jullie gisteren hebben gehad, en dat je zou doorgaan naar Tomorrowland. Really? Really??? Is dat alles van gentleness of tact dat je hebt? Als je niet met me wou afspreken had ik het oké gevonden als je me dat gewoon had gezegd. Bijna een jaar heb ik mijn uiterste best gedaan om ook maar een beetje respons van je te krijgen. Telkens als ik je wou opgeven zei de gemeenschappelijke vriendin dat niet te doen omdat je het blijkbaar ZO leuk vond als ik in je buurt was. Wel, lieve man van de bar, als je had gehoopt dat ik je zou vangen terwijl je hoog in de lucht probeerde te fladderen, dan heb je het mis. Daar doe ik niet aan mee. Om hard to get te spelen zijn we net iets te oud geworden vind ik persoonlijk
Het maakt me niet uit hoe gebroken je bent geweest uit eender welke vorige relatie, de magie bestaat erin om de liefde altijd nog eens een kans te geven. En altijd opnieuw. Ik ben er zeker van dat ik meer dan genoeg liefde had voor jou. Niet om je je verleden te laten vergeten, maar om je terug jezelf te laten voelen, een man die bemind en beminnelijk is. Maar blijkbaar schuil je je liever achter de torenhoge muur die je hebt opgebouwd rondom je hart.
Da-ag, man van de bar. Ik kom vanaf nu geen koffies of cocktails meer drinken op je terras. Ik zal je ook geen berichtjes meer sturen om je een prettig weekend te wensen, laat staan om te vragen om af te spreken.
Ik wens je veel moed om opnieuw je hart te kunnen openstellen. Missy L.
De blessure in de spier aan mijn binnenbovenbeen rechts sleept nu al maanden aan. Elke gênante sessie bij de fysiotherapeut is er één te veel. Vandaag stond er weer eentje gepland. Het was mijn dag niet geweest en ik was innerlijk zeer onrustig. Zin in naalden was nog veel verder te zoeken.
De fysiotherapeut onderzoekt, masseert en prikt naalden in de betreffende spieren. Ze doen pijn. Ik moet de tranen wegslikken, want toegeven dat het pijn doet, wil ik natuurlijk niet. Hij stopt met prikken en haalt er zijn cursus bij. Heel serieus heeft hij het over een liesbreuk. Ik schrik en merk pas later op dat daardoor tranen over mijn wangen lopen. Ik hoor woorden als echo, intern onderzoek, laparascopie, verdoving, ... Het lijkt allemaal luid te worden in mijn hoofd. Mijn fysiotherapeut probeert me gerust te stellen terwijl hij ziet en opmerkt hoeveel moeite ik doe om mijn tranen weg te slikken en te onderdrukken.
Morgenochtend moet ik naar de huisarts bellen om te vragen of zij dit kan diagnosticeren, anders moet ik via spoedopname. De fysiotherapeut kleeft nog een tape omdat die pijnverlichtend werkt en laat me buiten. Als ik 'Goedenavond' zeg durf ik mijn gezicht niet meer draaien omdat ik de tranen niet meer kon inslikken. Eens ik in de auto zit vloeien ze massaal over mijn wangen. Onmacht en angst zijn de meest overheersende gevoelens die ik nu heb met mijn laatste abdominale ingreep in het achterhoofd.
Ik weet nog hoeveel pijn ik had toen ik wakker werd, hoe ik moest overgeven van de narcose met juist doorspiesde buikspieren, hoe mijn bloeddruk plots daalde tot een kritiek punt, hoe ik alle ongeruste hoofden van verpleegkundigen, anesthesisten en artsen boven mij zag, hoe een eenvoudige dagopname een verblijf werd, hoe pijnlijk en moeizaam de revalidatie ging, hoe moeilijk ik het had met de littekens, de herinneringen die het terug naar boven bracht, de angst om niet meer goed genoeg te zijn, beperkingen tegen te komen, niet meer te kunnen dansen als voorheen, ...
Ik droog mijn tranen, slik de krop in mijn keel door. Gooi wat water in mijn gezicht en verman mezelf. Ik had gehoopt dat ik dit niet meer alleen zou moeten doen...
Later... Het moment waarop ALLES altijd duidelijk lijkt te worden...
De laatste dagen is me ook duidelijk geworden dat ik geen ongelijk heb als ik zeg dat je uiteindelijk, in je leven alles alleen moet doen. Neem nu de grote kuis doen... Mijn mannen in huis willen heel graag dat dat gebeurt, tot ik eraan begin, dan worden ze er kregelig van, maar helpen doen ze niet.
Ooit haalde ik een mooi oud zitbankje van een afvalcontainer dat ik heb afgeschuurd en opnieuw schilderde. Enkel het zitkussen moet nog opnieuw bekleed worden. De stof ligt al geknipt klaar hoor, ik wacht enkel nog op de mannen die me hun speciale nietjesmachine even willen lenen.
Eerder deze zomer zag ik in het magazine Dobbit een artikel over het maken van een schommelstoel. Ik ben gek op schommelstoelen, dus besloot er een te maken. De mannen zouden helpen. De schommelbalkjes heb ik intussen bij een schrijnwerker besteld, mijn stoel is ook besteld en ik heb mijn prijsoffert voor de herstoffering reeds in mijn mailbox. En ik ben trots op mezelf dat ik binnenkort mijn stoel mag afhalen, uit elkaar halen, afschuren, opnieuw schilderen en laten herbekleden om er uiteindelijk zelf mijn schommellatjes op de nagelen. Maar ik vind het ook zo jammer dat ik mijn enthousiasme niet kan delen.
Zo gaat dat, iedereen gaat zijn eigen weg in het leven en kiest voor de mensen en dingen die belangrijk zijn voor hem/haar.
Normaal gezien zou ik gisteren reeds naar de Gentse Feesten gaan... Maar toen ik goed en wel besefte dat ik alweer alleen zou gaan bedacht ik dat ik even goed de achterstallige strijk kon inhalen. Het had nochtans leuk kunnen zijn, de feesten, net zoals ik die keer alleen naar de stadstuin ben geweest.
Maar ik ben een vrouw met een missie, ik hoop in de Spiegeltent op de Gentse Feesten een goeie tangoman aan de haak te kunnen slaan. De opdracht weegt echter als lood in mijn schoenen. Zoals ik ooit las in het boekje 'Give him back his balls'; Je trekt jezelf terug op aan de bandjes van je bh en gaat door. Dat gezegd zijnde vertrek ik naar Gent. (Met een klein hartje wel)
