The end.

d i s c l a m e r:
If your are too young or too much, please don't continue reading.
If you know me and are going to gossip about what follows, please don't continue reading.
I understand that everything that is written here is singed by me,
so of course people think of me when reading it,
however, if you keep continue reading,
know that what follows is called freedom of speech
and might be personal experiences or it can be fiction.
I use my writing as a form of art, it is not some kind of confession.
I started this when I was 16, now I am almost 20.
This is the final post on this blog.
I think I owe it to all the people who supported me to have a closure,
I never even knew I could write, so this means so much to me.
However, I am deleting it because I am planing to approach my art in other ways,
and I don't want my name on this blog anymore.
I am not asking you to understand, it's my life.
If I ever write again, you will find out.
I probably will because i really enjoy it.
This blogspot will be deleted at the end of August, you can save my writing if you want.

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I slept with someone else.
I slept with a man who was in love with someone else,
and who knew that I was in love with someone else.
Now that I'm thinking about it,
maybe we were out of love.
We were certainly not ready to love each other though.
I slept with someone who wasn't him,
and I wasn't her.
We were there because of reasons I've never been with someone before.
I slept with someone who hugged me the whole night long,
and who kissed me in the forehead like someone else did.
It didn't feel pretentious,
and it wasn't.
I slept with someone who didn't protect me too much,
who didn't care to show me his views even if I didn't agree with them,
but most importantly, he let me have fun.
The whole thing was spontaneous,
a phone call away.
He didn't really realize how emotionally healthy I was these days,
no one did.
For me it was a confirmation though,
that even after everything that's happened,
I was young, I could still have fun.
I could still feel alive,
on the back of a motorcycle,
hanging out with people I haven't met before,
or looking at the stars at a beach with no lights.
I slept with someone who told me he was coming in the city,
he didn't get the tickets for me,
it wasn't like that,
but it made me question why it was so hard for others to do the same,
maybe I shouldn't question and compare,
but damn, nothing makes sense sometimes.

Now I'm back to reality,
feels like I never left.
Was any of it real?
Back in the big city.
Work, school, things to do.
I have these flashes that I'm leaving everything behind and I go back.
I then work to get enough money for a motorcycle
and a small shop that I will turn into a tattoo studio
add some clothing collections once in a while.
Just to feed my appetite of what my dreams 'used' to be.
I close my eyes,
I imagine a world where I am free from responsibilities and expectations,
my only reason of existence is myself.
Freedom.
Away from this bullshit world we live in, built and depended by the fear of the mashes.
God? Government?
Everything.
Then I open my eyes and I'm sitting on my working space,
markers and sketchbooks everywhere.
Cold cups of yesterday's coffee.
I get it, I need to do this.
I have to do this now.
I'm good at it.
I get it.
I am an adult with responsibilities.
I am the lucky one, because I get to do what I want, right?
I shouldn't be complaining, right?
I'm sorry for daydreaming.
I get it.

I know what I will be thinking in years from now,
Someone will come and ask me about my first love, or my first hearbreak.
We ask older people these questions quite often,
thinking they have the answers,
or just hoping they will give us some kind of confirmation that romance exists.
I will be sitting somewhere,
I don't know the country and I don't know how I will look like by then,
and someone I will envy for his age and beauty will ask me to answer this question,
I will probably say something like this:
"Our love story was a great one.
We saw each other and we understood.
Until we stopped undersanding.
I was mad at him, because I believed in love too much.
It's funny, how everything in life showed me that love isn't as powerful as they write in books,
yet, I still believed with my whole heart, that nothing can stop us with being with someone,
only fear,
stereotypes,
ourselves.
Certainly not distance.
You look at the stars every night and you fall in love with them,
you've never touched them,
you will never get close,
they're just there,
you are a part of them anyway.
We broke up because our ties broke,
and the ocean was between us.
Yes, that's true.
But the stars are proof.
Don't tell me that miles can separate two souls,
that talk to each other,
support each other,
know each other,
and know how to fuck each other.
Get your ass up and travel.
I was mad because I didn't believe in the "we didn't work out" thing.
I did believe in the "we just stopped trying out of fear" though.
When you stop having similar views with someone,
that's when you lose the basic connection.
Because think about it,
you have in front of you the person you call the love of your life,
I don't care how old you are,
it's someone who connects with you, right?
And you want to tell me that just because you can't see them,
that's the reason to hurt them, and leave?
No.
Maybe I was in denial.
Our future wasn't heading in the same directions anymore.
But still, something inside me made me believe in us.
So I was mad.
And my ego wouldn't let me give up on it.
Because that is what human beings do,
we love because of how they make us feel,
because we love being loved,
we love the attention and the drama and we love getting paranoid over someone.
I certainly loved being loved by him.
But that wasn't the only reason.
I just couldn't imagine how life would be if I didn't know him.
Knowing him, learning things from him,
our conversations,
that was my biggest addiction.
People couldn't understand that, because no one knew who we were,
until we were together.
And no one has ever seen us together, alone.
So there is no proof of what I'm saying here, but believe me,
like all people who find themselves in someone else,
we filled our empty spaces, it felt good.
So don't give up on love.
Don't you ever give up on love.
I don't know if anyone knows what love is,
I don't know how to explain this meaningless word we use to describe so much,
but don't give up on it, it's the reason we are alive.
Act like you never broke each others hearts.
The good times are more worthy than the bad ones.
Have fun, let lose.
We certainly lose our daydream when we get old,
I see it in people every day who get used to living miserably.
Love, love, love.
Yourself first.
It's the only thing that brings joy to our meaningless, disturbing, existence."

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Have a good and creative life y'all,
you'll hear from me soon.
xx Faidra