Another love story

Things changed last year; there was no going back anymore. An acceptance letter to a study session in Strasbourg. An early flight from Helsinki to Frankfurt and terrified feeling taking over me as I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I had became a smoker a few weeks earlier and craved for a cigarette after a short flight; I was petrified, because I had no idea what I was doing. When I arrived to Strasbourg, I was exhausted and terribly panicky. I wanted to go back to Finland & be comfortable with my surrounding. And then something unexpected happened -- I fell in love.

he came and talk to me on Monday when I was presenting United World Colleges to our conference. we talked but I thought it all was harmless because I assumed he was straight he invited me to their party and our group went there the first thing he does he greets me and serves me alcohol I drank different kinds of alcohol from Balkan and I'm starting to feel dizzy. a Macedonian guy from my group kisses me, but my head's exploding because the only thing I want is to kiss the Croatian guy tell him how beautiful he is so I escape to him and we got to his room drunk and exhausted. I wake up next to him he smiles gently and I fall in love with his eyes he kisses me I'm reserved and torn apart because never before I had ended up in a bed with a stranger. I tell him I'll ignore him that day I don't give him a reason and he thinks I'm just joking. everything starts to fall.

we didn't talk to each other for three days after that. I had left my food coupons in his room, but he never returned them to me. he tried to talk to me the very first day but I was too embarrassed so nothing happened. we try to meet each other I stay behind so I could meet him but he comes with someone else I wait for him in the dining area but he's delayed and even his friends poke me and say hi and text him that 'come down Slaven, he's here alone' but nothing happens. on Friday he grabs me out of the cafeteria says he's tired of games we used Marija from Serbia as our communication tool he asks if I wish to watch movies with him that night I tell him yes he kisses me gently no one sees us.

that night I went to his room again found myself in a situation that was everything else than I was losing all my principles even when I was sober. kissing him the sound of his breath his gentle touches on my neck everything made sense at that moment.

he took me to Strasbourg for lunch. we went to Mc Donald's as it had became some kind of a joke between us two he bought my meal and I felt slightly awkward about it and I didn't know how to eat in front of him but I loved watching him listening him speaking about his country telling about the situation between Slovenia and Croatia learning about his past current future. he speaks fluent French he's good with people he held my hand in Strasbourg in front of anyone we kissed publicly in the city and I felt as everything that I had ever wanted I had gotten now with him. we spoke about children he asked me if I wanted any I said yes he said me too we dropped the conversation, but in my head I started imagining and painting pictures. the lunch in Strasbourg was beautiful we tried to ask people to take a photo of us two but people were too busy they didn't have time to stop we wandered around and I felt good with him. we ran to the tram without tickets and obviously we got busted and fined 26 euros. I'd have paid more just to be with him.

I spent some parts of Sunday night with him went back to farewell party then again to his room around at 3am and decided that I'll travel with him to Frankfurt at 6am although my originally plan was to leave at 9am. we talked kissed spoke touched danced looked played listened things you do things you enjoy but we didn't sleep because suddenly his alarm clock began to buzz and I'm like you're kidding me you're seriously kidding me and it was 5:30am and I hadn't even packed yet. so I run to my room pack everything lost my friendship-book and took a cab to the train station with his group. I felt grumpy and restless no cigarettes in a long time and I was doubting myself again. and then something really strange happened. I realized I don't wish to leave this guy. no. or tomorrow. we kissed in the train. we actually kissed from Strasbourg until he checked-in. people children grandmothers aunts policemen ticket-inspectors black everyone stared at us but we continued kissing holding hands feeling good about each other making the world understand that we don't care. he fell asleep on my arms for a minute or two I loved him his smell his breath everything about him we changed trains three times and on the last one we didn't have any seats so we just sat in front of the door and kissed and held hands we went to the airport café for breakfast he wanted to buy me breakfast I told him no but ended up buying hot chocolate I sat next to him kissed him while he was eating his breakfast he fed me potatoes and smiled and I told him I might be falling for you he said I love you and asked me if I wanted a boy or a girl I said a girl and he was me, too, we wouldn't survive with a boy because neither of us knows any sports and I laughed. I said that he could teach her cook and then he said I could give her fashion advices and I grinned and kissed him again.

every time he smiled this ghost in me switched on feel good-emotion. every time he kissed this paranoia in me switched on you're in love-emotion. every time I saw him the world looked wonderful everything was amazing nothing could have gone wrong and I couldn't stop thinking of him soon. when he left I felt sad. but honestly it's better off me meeting him for a week than never meeting him. I just think that he'll be the one for me. the one that will tease my mind for the rest of my life. even after six years if I meet him and I'm happily with someone my feelings for him would be stronger than for anyone else. yesterday we were planning to meet again. I was imagining us two moving together. things that I shouldn't do. things that you do when you're in love.

- N, March 3, 2009

take my hand come closer and kiss me when everyone is looking at us.

in the tunnel speaking words saying goodbyes crying because nothing else make sense.

running running running forgot your ticket and inspectors demand for money you say I'm sorry I was in love.

we go to the cinema and the only movie I'm able to watch is you.

in hurry in rush madam please can you take a photo of us no sorry I'm not in love and don't wish to take a photo of love.

the only thing that the tree desires is to be a James Bond and in love. you don't need both I say. love is enough.

apples red green yellow which one is your favorite it used to be green but now it's your.

people come and go they enter your life and find a door out. you took me to Mc Donald's and I never find my way out. but I had you.

the train station had never said I love you so many times. neither had the train.

the stars up there and you down here with me.

this story is read only to few. it started with he's the only thing in my mind. it ended with he's the only thing my mind and I'm the only thing in his mind.

speak a little more so I don't have to stop listening to you. strasbourg 2009.

A few days after we had departed, I received an email from you that makes me heart tremble every time I read it.

Dragi N,

Everyone likes you too N, I heard so many nice things about you, but I don't need to hear about your qualities, I can see them myself. Besides being the best looking man I've ever seen, I enjoy you so much, I love your smile, I love that you are international as I am, I like that you are not like other guys, you are warm and giving. God damn you, N, I really can't stop thinking of you. I think of you whole day, days already. I don't think of anything else, absolutely nothing, just you, and our reunion. My friends are shocked how I act, since they've never seen me so euphoric before, so happy, so sad, so emotional. Some of them even compared me with a woman during PMS :) See what you are doing to me.

I would love to see us by the end of the year living somewhere in the world, me working in some NGO/political international organisation or whatever, you studying. We would live together, I would cook for you (as I am a really good cook), we would walk down the street every day and hold for hands, kiss in metro, train, plane....where ever. And later having children together, you would be an amazing dad, we would be so happy.... damn you N, I already picture you as my husband. I really do.

I look horrible now, no sleep, haven't shaved for days, I am totally lost, I am not productive, I don't do ANYTHING on the work, I don't have my usual hyperactivity, creativity, all my energy is invested into you, and I am soooo disappointed I did not chat with you N, I am so disappointed, I am afraid I won't be able to sleep at all :( I just want to hear your voice..... so badly.

I love you.

s

We were not suppose to be together; I booked tickets for Budapest in March to see him, but my parents found out about us and stopped me. He booked tickets for Helsinki in May, but he was unable to come, because at the same time my relatives from the Netherlands came to discuss my "situation". In summer, I left for India and stayed there for seven weeks. We only met in August -- five months after -- and one week in Paris & Strasbourg was more than I had ever imagined. However, then I left for the United States and he was suppose to move with me. Everything failed.

In December I decided to drop out from college & move to Croatia. Last weekend we celebrated our one-year anniversary.

And I am more than happy.

Swaziland & Two years ago

To all those boys and girls and female-to-males and males-to-females and Lady Gagas who never thought they could never fall in love; to all those people who wonder the world and its stars and space and universe and seek for an answer to a question that can rarely asked in a company of two or more people; to all those birds flying across the sea determined to reach their destination in the stormy blizzard of winter; to the lions in the sea; to myself who is finally alive.

It has been three years since I moved to Swaziland, a country where in last four years I have spent most of the time. I came there with full of ideas and as a boy who was intolerant towards drugs and alcohol and aimed at changing the world in seconds, preferably quicker than in just seconds. I wore glasses every day in order to see the hilly landscapes of the traditional African country and I studied in a language that was foreign to me. I met people from countries that I had only read of on the Atlas when I was six-years-old. I was face to face with HIV/Aids and yet even with my glasses I was unable to see what was in front of me. And fairly soon the world was mocking me for dreaming of teaching Russian and Finnish in an American high school, to a few selected students who had a passion for awkward languages. The world stayed still; the changes happened in me.

By the time I left Swaziland, I had began to drink alcohol in amounts that I could had never believed was possible to drink. I kissed men and girls (not boys and women) and I enjoyed it. I lost my glasses and it was not the only thing I lost when it came to my appearance. Cigarettes were soon introduced and smoking only tobacco was barely enough, needed something else & better. For very long I was ashamed of every change that took place in me; disgusted and afraid. However, I realized now after reading my old entries from history that I constantly keep thinking only the bad modifications. Something good happened, too. Something better than good.

For the first time in my life I understood that it is fine. It really is fine.

-- Memories from Swaziland,

when everything was fine, too.

I just did not know it then.

Maybe what you need is (everything)

The story is still the same even if it has a different name and appearance -- nothing if anything at all has changed. I have been writing a blog for several years and in past year I have changed the address the title the layout at least seven times, because of things that happened last spring. I always play with an idea of starting a completely fictive blog, but it would have barely any chances to survive as my life seems already seems to be out of this reality. I avoid fiction, because this way I can look at my writings in four, six years and ponder to myself how many things, including myself, have changed in such a short period of time.

I used to tell everyone that I am a writer and I write poems, short stories and letters that are never sent. It has been a year since I wrote something that could be defined as a "creative work". Last year was everything else than productive; I fell in love with a man who was seven years older than I was and lived in the other side of Europe. My parents accidentally found out that I was in love and it still keeps eating the bond between us. I moved to the United States to study, but not only did I fall in love for the first time in my life last year I also fell into depression that had never happened before. I was a step closer to alcoholism and my behavior was out of control as I would be drunk almost every single day of the eleventh month. I ceased existing, but then I decided to do something that I could have never imagined to do. I dropped out from college and moved to a foreign country to live with the man with whom I fell in love in France approximately a year ago. My parents are from continent called Asia, I was born in continent named Europe, I finish my high school in the continent of Africa and last quarter of two-thousand-and-nine I spent in the new continent of North America. I have not stayed in one place for very long ever since I turned seventeen, but I guess I never had any kind of roots either.

This story, however, is not about the past. Last year is blurry; I have not much written down about the things that happened as there was absolutely too much happening. I moved too many times (shifted from Africa to Europe, then to the Americas and found myself again in Europe), nothing was concrete and literally butterflies were losing their wings to the predators. One day I will recall the things that happened last year with the aid of words, but now photographs will be thrown into the stage and actors and actresses shall be mute.

I am collecting the pieces of myself here.

Nothing more, nothing less, nothing else.