Her gaze was always drawn toward the sky, her thoughts running amongst the clouds. She felt nothing like an angel, but was always dreaming of flying. No she was no angel, but felt like the fallen. Always longing for belonging, knowing her place was nowhere on earth but among the stars. 

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I’m standing on the platform, looking at the train approaching, I can’t help wondering what would happen if I jumped now? What would happen to the people standing along with me. How would it impact their lives? How would it affect my family and friends? Who would attend my funeral? And how long would it take for people to move on? Because they inevitably will. That’s the real kicker about time right? It moves regardless of how we feel. With no regard to us. 

Will the people on the platform wonder if they could have mattered? Will they feel guilty for not reacting when they first noticed me? Or did they never notice the pain behind my eyes? Were they preoccupied with their own demons? I wonder if my pain is not as apparent as I feel it is. I look at my chest searching for a hole, where my heart was before you stole it. 

I’m standing on the platform, looking at the train approaching. It stops. 

Love, vulnerability, fear

I keep wanting to write this magnificent thing. These words that will completely convince you. Will show you my undying, unyielding love. That things are different. I left us to find me. I left us because I was scared of forever. I left us because I wanted more for you. But I can’t write the words. I choke. I scare. Because I’m the vulnerable one now. Yet again. I flash back to the beginning of us. To all the times I showed you my heart, bared to you my soul – just to have you throw it back in my face. Just to have you tell me, you did not want. I was not worthy. I am not worthy now. But I can’t be the exposed once again. And I know I need to be. I need you to be gentle with me, but take charge. I need you to love me, and let me love you. I want you to want us again, I want us again. I want us to never let us go. I am ready now. Ready for forever. I am no longer scared.

I think I can now relate to how a druggy feel when craving a new fix. I need to hear your voice. To see you. To understand that we were once real, and that reality now is, that we are not. I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare and I can’t wake up. My brain is reasoning this must be a nightmare, because even I can’t be stupid enough to give up on us. On you. On myself. We weren’t picture perfect, but the perfect picture. Why did I let us go? And why didn’t you fight me? I thought we were more. 

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She cried and cried until she felt empty. The tears crusting on her cheeks. And for the first time, it did not make her feel better. It just left her in despair, feeling hopeless.

Mistakes, misery and melancholy 

I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have left him. I knew it when I did and I still know it now. Why did I then? Well to release him, of the burden of me. Because I know, I am not good enough for him, and I never would be. I am damaged, broken. But I wasn’t shattered, I wasn’t completely unglued until I left him. Now I am nothing. Small tiny fragments that will never stick together. Now I am sorrow. I am remorse. I am guilt. I am embarrassed. 

I should have put as much faith into us, as I did in you. 

Journal Entry #5

Dear world,

As I’ve previously mentioned I’m currently really wrapped up in finishing my bachelor thesis. Therefore the lack of posts here these days.

I’m happy-ish though, which is the best I’ve been for years. So that’s good. But I guess it is true what they say. Imagination and creation strives on pain and struggle. I’m having a hard time stringing two words together these days, and when I finally do it is much much darker than what I have previously created. It seems that whenever I put my mind to writing what I know, my innermost secrets and darkest thoughts are what fills the paper, and while these reflections are important for me, I’m not sure, they are appropriate for this place.

Lately I’ve been struggling with memories of the attempted assault – and I am currently working on a blog-post related to this, I just need to be sure I’m ready to share it.

I left with my project group for the weekend to get away from distraction and focus on writing the Bachelor thesis, but to be completely fair, I think I’m even more distracted here, than I would have been back home. Don’t get me wrong, I love my group, they are amazing. I am however, the only girl in a sea of guys, and while that might sound like a dream it’s really not. Somewhere along the line over the past three years, I’ve gone from being a female to one of the guys, and I relish this position most of the time, but to be honest, it can get pretty frustrating.

I have to listen to a lot of farts, a lot of inappropriate jokes and even more guy-talk ranging from talk of another girls looks to football. Needless to say, I sometimes need a little girl time. Most of my girl friends are however not in the same city (they are actually not even in the same country region) so I’ve noticed these small changes in my personality over the past couple of months (okay, let’s be fair – years) and I am honestly scared I’m turning in to a guy.

Please tell me it’s reversible? I really love being a girl..

 

xx El

P.s. the guys are actually really hilarious most of the times, I’ll try to write down some of the better stories and share them with you in the future 😉

City Secrets: Rome

Verde Pistacchio

It is insanely hot and humid here today, so I am really dreaming about some ice-cream. This obviously got me thinking about the best ice-cream spots I’ve ever visited, and this is definitely one of them. Not only is the ice-cream really good, but I mean, look at this place? Isn’t it gorgeous? I wanted to write that my favourite ice-cream flavour is pistachio, but then I realized that my favourite ice-cream flavour is just as much affected by my mood as everything else! So yea, love pistachio – but let’s get real, ice-cream in any flavour is favourite.

I’ve been doing a decent amount of traveling the last couple of years, and I figured I might as well share some of the “secrets” I’ve encountered. Who knows, maybe I will even end up creating some city guides 🙂

This little gem of an ice-cream parlor, or gelateria artiginale, can be found on Via Nazionale, 239, 00184 Rome, Italy and their webpage is here.

xx El

(ps. this is NOT a sponsored post)