What happens after hitting Delete

Today  I deleted by mistake all my text messages with you. I was shocked for a second, not knowing if I should feel something about that or not. Afterwards, I just became very sad. I realized that the last piece of you was finally gone. You have been gone for two months already. Your toothbrush and your towel also left immediately. Your Netflix account followed, the bottles of wine and the Nutella jar you bought, every trace of you, everything disappeared so fast it left me naked here in my own home, the home I used to no longer call home. All I was left with were the few photos we took and all the text messages. The “order pizza on your way”, the “I missed you today”, the “where should we go this weekend?”, the “I wish I was in bed with you” all those words that sound so empty but for me they used to be the world.

And today, that world, our world, vanished. Completely.

We don’t talk anymore. You don’t say you miss me anymore, I no longer say I miss you too. Even though I do, baby, so much. I used to find comfort in those stupid old messages, it was my way of going back, my way of bringing you back. I loved reliving everything even though it was such a bad idea and I knew that and I regretted it every single time. But God, it was my heroin.  It was you.

And today, you vanished. Completely.

I realized, though: maybe it wasn’t even them. The messages, or the wine bottles, or the toothbrush. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that you left traces, which I kept following like a lost puppy, hoping I’ll find you again. Maybe it was me, actually, I’m sure it was me. I was the one that overthought everything that happened. I was the one that re-read the “I missed you today” so many times it started to feel like you just wrote it. I was the one that lived our story twice, once when it happened, the second time after you left, I was the one that made me fall in love two times harder, I was the one that broke my heart in the end.  Because I didn’t know where to stop the script. Actually I did, but I couldn’t. You were my heroin.

And we all know what happens when overdosing.

I lost me.

Today, a part of me vanished. The last part with you in it.

And if that’s what it takes in order to bring me back, the old me, then I’m more than willing to let it go.

Today I deleted all my past with you. And it wasn’t by mistake. It was letting go.

When you never got to the "I love you" part

 I might have a lot of issues. It might be my fault. The fact that I never heard “I love you”. The fact that I never said “I love you” even though I did, or at least, I was pretty close. But there comes a time in every girls life when you just jam in your apartment on your favorite song with nothing but some panties on and it just hits you: “God, I’m awesome”.

And you realize that even in your worst moments, in your bad hair days,  in your bad decisions nights or in your hangover mornings, it’s still you. It will always be you and you wouldn’t change that for anybody. You never heard “I love you”, it’s true, but you also know the reasons why. Timing was always your enemy.

Besides that what else? You look at yourself at you start analyzing your habits, your attitude, your way of living.

Is it the fact that the volume to your music is always on maximum?

Or the fact that you cannot leave your house in the morning if you didn’t dance a little bit in front of the mirror?

It is the fact that sometimes you let dishes pile up in your sink and it doesn’t even bother you? Or that you forget watering your plants? Or buying bread? Or getting up early when you have to?

Is it the fact that you party too much and work too little? That instead of making sketches for your school projects, you paint your living-room wall? That instead of doing research you read books by your favorite author?

Is it the fact that you are so friendly with everyone that sometimes they tend to take that for granted? The fact that you cannot say “no”, the fact that you are always there for them? That you would leave everything you were doing at 4 am just to go and give them a hug when they call you feeling lonely?

Is it the fact that holding hands is more important for you than kissing? That looking into one’s eyes is what sets your heart on fire? That him kissing your forehead makes you act like a little girl? That you like to cuddle all night, that you love morning sex?

Is it the fact that you enjoy crying for no reason when nobody’s around? That you listen to sad songs, look outside the window and try making a music video in your head? That you read old text messages and watch old videos in order to bring that moment back and the way he made you feel?

Is it the fact that you like reading books about one’s feelings and not necessarily with a rich story line? The fact that you love romantic movies? Because a part of you still wants to believe in that running towards each other in slow motion kind of scenario? Is it the fact that you love receiving flowers and having a date on Valentine’s day? That you are so old fashioned when it comes to love? That you try acting like a diva but once they get to know you, you’re nothing but a child who wants to be held?

Is  the fact that you want to be loved why you are not loved?

And if so, what would you change about that, about yourself?

But then there’s that moment that comes into every girls life when they just realize “Wait a minute, I would actually not change a thing about me.”

If  I were a boy, I would be exactly the girl he would love to love.

So then you decide to not get upset about it. Not anymore. The fact that you didn’t hear “I love you” until now it’s not because of your ways of loving or actually, wanting to love, it’s just because the guy who would’ve said “I love you” still didn’t hear your “hello”.

So just go. Grab your jacket and your lipstick and go spreading hellos.

And stop thinking about him. About the guy who didn’t love you. It’s disrespectful towards the guy that will.

Nopti uitabile

  Rosu inchis si mult fum. Sacadate scanteieri de alb. Cuvinte vagi deslusite printre vibratiile peretilor.
 "Mai ai bani? Il aduc imediat".
Dar parca au trecut cinci minute de cand a zis asta. De fapt, cat a trecut? Se simte ca o viata de om. Timpul trece atat de greu. Unde mi-e nenorocitul ala de shot? Verifici buzunarele. I-ai mai dat banii? Simti ceva metalic, nu stii daca sunt monezi sau cheile de la casa. Nici nu vrei sa te uiti, e bine cu ochii inchisi. Cand ii ai inchisi e rosu, altfel te doare, reflectorul e prea puternic. De fapt era, acum 5 minute. Sau acum o viata de om. Nici nu mai stii cum e de fapt. Deschizi ochii, e inca la coada. Un tip i-a acaparat atentia, tipic ei. Mie mi-e doar sa nu imi fure banii. Ea o sa fie ok, e fata mare, se descurca. Ii atinge mana, vad printre gene, oare ii zambeste si ea inapoi sau deja o enerveaza? M-as ridica sa o intreb, dar parca nici nu-mi simt picioarele. E asa bine cu ochii inchisi.
"E prietenul unui prieten, cica i se face reclama buna, am zis de ce nu. Vrei si tu?"
ce?
In dreapta mea, total strain, mana intinsa, ochii semi-deschisi.
O, doamne.
Ma ridic sa plec.
Acum le simt. Parca ele ma ridica pe mine, nu invers.
Cum de n-am observat ce buna e muzica?
Incep sa se miste mai repede, si mainile si soldurile, si coada, si ea.
"Poftim, noroc!"
Mi s-a intors muza, o pup pe frunte, te enerveaza tipul?
Nu inteleg ce raspunde, muzica e prea tare.
Dar nici nu mai intreb o data. Vreau doar sa dansez.
"Unde sunt ceilalti?"
A, restul! Nu stiu, hai sa vedem. O trag de mana, ea il trage pe el, inca avem paharele mici si goale, hai pana la bar sa le lasam. Nu tu din nou.
De unde te stiu?
Vibratiile sunt si mai puternice acum, sau o fi doar bataia inimii mele?
O aud ca tipa, ce a patit?? Ma sperii, ma intorc, e bine. Era doar melodia ei preferata. Uitasem ca e muzica misto.
"M-ai lasat balta mai devreme"

cine e acest om si ce vrea de la mine, "scapa-ma" ii spun. Ma ia de gat si ma saruta, baietii raman socati, ce, n-ati mai vazut doua fete pupandu-se?
"Mai ai bani?"
Cat timp o fi trecut?
"Stai. da-mi o lamaie."
Dar cand a mai rasarit si soarele?
"Noroc."