Hello, Hi, Goodbye.

Dear Blogspot and dear readers,

The time has come for me to stop writing about love as I still have yet to find it. I figure that the world is not yet ready for my thoughts and philosophies, so I decided on a new path. This one I will leave behind me, and just like the past, I will sometimes stop and remenisce what use to was, but no longer is. And I will feel the joy of having to have lived through the things that I have, but some things are better left unsaid. Too private, too painful, and too old. I'm ready for fresh things, leaving behind all drama..this is my spiritual cleansing.

My clean slate: WWW.WORDPRESS.COM/WEIRDEAUXLEMONDROPS for the love of fashion and everything but love. Thank you Blogspot, and thank you readers.

Much love,

A.

A Thank You Note

From the first date we had, to the last date we had; you made my heart skip beats I never knew were there. One of the first times we went out to dinner –at the casino- I was afraid to overdress. My LBD with a low cut out back, stay ups and accompanying suspenders left me fearing that I would steel your shine. The fear was overrated. The moment you rang the doorbell and I opened the door, you left me speechless. There you stood in your D&G trenchcoat, shirt, tie, nice pants and appropriate shoes. Tall. Dark. And most definitely handsome. You looked me in the eyes and my focus was centered on you. Right then and there I fell madly, hopelessly, truly, deeply in love with you. Trying to fight the geekiness what really didn’t work on the first date, worked then. We shined. You made me feel like a woman. I had never felt as special as I had felt that night ever before. Hoping to be your princess, I had already crowned you my prince; my future king. I loved you very deeply. I loved you with every fiber in my body. With every splinter of my mind and every vain connected to my heart. I loved you enough to work on myself, to be and become a better person, even more awesome than  I already was. The little things made me even happier though. You laying your hand on mine while driving. The smile and look on your face when I did something silly. Kissing you softly when you had fallen asleep. You being proud of me and semi laughing at me while shooting. You did not just make me fall in love with you. You made me love all the things you care about, all the things you showed interest in. Because of you I expanded boundaries and because of you I have set limits. I cannot blame you for keeping me here and not going on internship abroad. It wasn’t you that kept me her, it was the love I had for you which never made me want to be too distant from you. That piece of my heart which you held so dearly, is what never made me want to leave your side for too long. The look in your eyes when you would say “I love you too” is what made me decide that you are my one and only. Giving me goosebumps, shivers and a fever all at once. The best natural disaster than came over me. Consider this my last good bye to my feelings for you. For I cannot bare these feelings while knowing that you never fell as hard for me, as I did for you. It brings joy to my soul knowing that I have opened myself up, facing my fears, defying all odds and loved again. And for this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Much love, Alysia.

Het pad.

Mezelf verloren in dat wat ze noemen "liefdesverdriet". Mijzelf verloren in dat wat wordt genoemd "jeugdtrauma". Mijzelf verloren in de vicieuze cirkel van het leven waarin invalshoeken ontbreken. Mezelf kunnen zijn zonder te weten wie ik ben is als een masker op te zetten zonder te zien wat het is...ik modder maar een beetje aan her en der. Want als ik het niet doe, wie doet het dan? Alleen ik kan mijn eigen leven bij de teugels pakken en in de gewenste richting dwingen. Maar dan zijn het mijn fouten. Mijn verantwoordelijkheden. 

Wil ik wel weer de controle over mijn lichaam en hart verliezen aan de eerste de beste JONGEN met leuke praatjes, leuk uiterlijk, maar zonder toekomst? Wil ik uberhaupt wel over de laatste keer dat ik de controle verloor heenkomen? De controle verliezen over mijn hart is als 200km per uur, op de snelweg in de fiat punto van mijn pa tegen het verkeer ingaan; vroeger of later komt de klap. Veel zou ik er voor over hebben, voor dat gevoel in mijn buik, die eeuwige glimlach waarvan mijn kaken pijn gaan doen, de hoop en de acceptatie. Terwijl we zijn wie we zijn, verliezen we onszelf in een ander. We raken verdwaald en in een pure wanhoopspoging volgen we en vervaagd kruimel-spoor terug naar wie we ooit waren. 

Oog in oog met je oude ik besef je dat je niet meer bent wie je was. Het kruimelspoor terug volgen is geen optie want aan het einde van het spoor wacht afwijzing, of erger nog: niets. Van het spoor afdwalen lijkt nog te riskant, maar onvermijdelijk. Een ander pad zal komen, de richting heb je zelf in handen.

Thought without name

Blood rushing

Cheeks blushing

Hands. Touching.

Love something.

Fear nothing

What we had we no longer have

No more did you care, since the moment you left

Fearing love, I will not

Broken or shattered; giving up, I will not

Know what you lost when deciding to leave

Facing the fact you no longer have me

The tremble in your voice, the look in your eyes

Body-language; it speaks with no lies

You can…Hate, ignore, bully me away

BUT. I wish you find love, like I did one day.

How to cope. Wait. What?!

To be quite honest; I have no idea how I'm currently coping. There are situations I cannot change myself. Not alone at least. So what did I do? I poured all my frustration and control on him. I could not control my home situation so I tried manipulating the other situation; the one I thought I could influence. I guess it's safe to say that I pushed too much. Here I am, 3 am, alone, refusing to speak to my "father" unless absolutely necessary and in total misery of pushing the one person away who could make me feel like nothing else mattered and on top of the world. 

How do I cope? Trying to avoid unnecessary drama, do not get carried away in someone else's shit and think about all those times of being hurt before, not thinking that I would get over it but still getting over it. No matter how long it took. One took me years, others took me months and some merely took some weeks. I admit to reading old love-mails from two exes. It strengthens me, they enlighten me. You see, if I could get over them, I can and will get over him. They would have given me the world on a silver platter; sure, one would be stolen and the other would be engraved with arabic symbols, but with the world on it none or the less. I recently spotted an ex-whateveryoucallit on tv after my bff informed me. The saddest channel (dnamic) displayed him and his socalled bff interviewing eachother. After 2 years, I still wanted to throw the tv out of the window on his lying, sneaking, creeping, sad and pathetic no-good self (the hate is big with this one). But still, I got over it.

People are confronted with their past on a daily base, the difference is how we cope with it. At this moment everything is fresh, it feels rotten but two months is relatively fresh. I miss the way he looks at me, kisses me and makes me laugh. The way we could spent hours and hours doing absolutely nothing (but eachother). But let's face it; that is normal in a relationship. I did it before, therefor I can do it again. Last night I dreamed that he was sorry, missed me and wanted to marry me; we served spareribs during the wedding and I was wearing the most horrible pink dress ever. The entire day I ended up picturing myself in that awful dress, missing him and craving for spareribs. I loved him. I love spareribs. Spareribs will always be there for me (if I can afford). 

The point being; the past remains the past, all you can do is accept it and learn from it. You can and will love again.

In the meanwhile you should drink, party, fuck and try not to call/text your ex during any of those activities. 

I am a GREAT advice giver, but somehow refuse to take it, even when coming from myself. Time will heal these wounds. Or wine and spareribs. Lots of wine and spareribs. Yes, dear spareribs.

Gezocht: Wintermattie

Iedereen in Nederland is er bekend mee; het koude, IJSkoude weer wat we te verduren krijgen. Okee, het zijn geen horror winters a la Noorwegen of Siberië, maar koud is het wel. Niet erg prettig voor alle singles out there die voor het slapen gaan helemaal alleen hun bed moeten verwarmen zonder lekker, warm, naakt lichaam tegen je aangedrukt. Niet gevreesd! Daar bestaat een medicijn tegen, een enige echte WINTERMATTIE. Geen “aah mattie aah ga ga, gooi je kontje”-gedoe, maar gewoon iemand om je tijdens de koudere maanden warm te houden. Het allermooiste hiervan is dat je diegene maar een paar maanden hoef te verduren, bevalt het; dan is het leuk meegenomen, ook al weet je dat je tijdens de zomerperiode weer liever single bent.

Het fenomeen ‘Wintermattie’ bestaat al veel langer, maar nooit is er echt een begrip/term aan de situatie gekoppeld. Iemand om je warm te houden tijdens de wintermaanden, iemand om warme chocomel mee te drinken en slagroom vanaf te likken. Hij hoeft niet eens superslim te zijn; een “ik ga voor de 5,5”-weet geen zinnig woord uit te brengen-ball is life(of andere sport)-mentaliteit volstaat hier al voor. Een lekker lichaam en positieve instelling zijn al genoeg; het is namelijk niet zo dat je met deze persoon zal gaan trouwen. Iemand om tijdens de regenachtige en besneeuwde dagen lekker terug getrokken mee  in bed te liggen om alles te doen waarvan God weet dat je het doet maar men zegt dat het fout is. Zondige zondagen vallen in de wintermaanden ook doordeweeks.

Nu de kou over ons kikkerlandje trekt en ik mij in een waar koufront bevind, begin óók ik de behoefte te ontwikkelen voor een zogenoemde ‘Wintermattie₁’.

₁

Einde bericht.

FoI; Free of Infatuation

Free from the chains of my infatuation

The shackles let loose from my heart’s separation

How it was it will never be again

The day has come to be my own best friend

The touch of him needed to break free

Long lost memories of who I used to be

Starting over, resuming life as it was

Not to cry anymore about a possible love lost

Time to go out and get back in the game

Put my heart in a casket while I scream out his name.