He always could somehow read my mind. There were emotionally loaded times that we simply walked alongside each other quietly. I tried to keep as quiet as possible, so that he wouldn’t be able to tell what was going through my head and suddenly a small voice broke the wall of silence expressing in an abstract sentence everything there was. I may had been amazed the first time he did it, maybe even the second, but after that I knew there was little near the core I could hide and what is more, he often used his ability to read my mind in order to exploit and manipulate me.
Naturally, we loved each other and cared a great deal for each other. We also took great joy in being bound together… it’s the kind of commitment life is made of. It was tiring at times and then at other times it was just a dadaistic outburst of creativity and synchronised action, the kind only people painfully committed to each other can perform.
And then there were the dark times… We both hated having to wait, we were both too restless, but somehow disciplined enough to endure it. Anticipation was our torture and when it was time for it, we just seemed to enclose ourselves in the small niches of our rooms, repeating daily chores and occasionally screaming at each other and clumsily bumping against each other. I guess by now we both knew how it went, so we didn’t worry about it, but we did go close to driving each other mad.
What is crazy about all this is that he had a person in his life with who he shared the exact same relationship. The whole relationship was the same, only set in the Finnish countryside. How crazy is that?… and in a way how lucky for him to have two people committed to him, with who the same exploitation and manipulation technique works equally well.
I talked to him last night and he said to me casually “look, I love you and all, but you should really loose some weight, if anyone is ever going to like you… plus I’m fed up with Greece, I’ve decided I want to live in Finland and go to school here. Greece is a shity country, full of assholes, I’d really like to move as soon as possible. You can stay there or you can come too… I don’t care”.
Well well… what is one to say… other than stereotypical connotations, such as “I despair”, “we’ve created a monster”, “are we really a bunch of Southpark characters?” and “what does an 8year-old really know?”. Gladly, what I do say will be the final word on the matter, though sadly I feel I cannot disregard his needs and desires anymore and then I suddenly feel like someone would be dumping me, like I would like to keep him still and have so much to give, but he only wants to move on. And my heart fills with sweet surrender and I cannot go onwards or backwards, just stuck in that reoccurring place where you seem destined to arrive to. We all have a place and it’s dark and lonely and we always seem to arrive there no matter what the relationship is. It’s funny… isn’t it? It’s always what scares you the most and with the years you realise it’s never really the same place so much, as the same mental state of the creeping return of one’s greatest childhood fear.