Awful day, savage week.

Monday I finally got to see Claire, for the first time after my wedding. Which was good, because it felt like a long time and I missed her, but awful because she simply couldn’t believe what I was saying. I guess, since we met when we were in Berlin at the beginning of my relationship, I kind of made her believe in love more by looking at us. Poor thing had to stop believing in this too and God knows she would need some more faith.

Yesterday I saw Renée and boy, was she hard on me. I understand her motives and I can’t blame her, but she did hit me hard.

Today I am a blurred image of myself, shallow as film paper and weak as a falling leaf. Considering I am supposed to make my grand move tonight and how Fortune itself seems to be turning on me today, I should really run and hide.

Today. Thank Sa, it’s today and as I recently read on and assimilated from Bounce (, it’s not going to be every damn day of the rest of my life, just today. This helped me a little.

I am kind of broken down. I lost most of my confidence, second guess all of my decisions and find everything too much to deal with. I guess, the syndrome has a name: chickening out. But really, what am I afraid of? Having nothing if what I have right now is not enough? I like the idea of having someone waiting for me at home every night and being greeted by a hug and kiss, but the image of that someone is still foggy. It’s been my husband for so many years, that I am used to it right now, but is it really the best possible choice? I like being hugged by him, but the other night I was wondering what it would be like to be hugged the same way by coach. I still feel tenderness, but is it love? I like taking what he is giving me, but I realise I am not giving anything in return. It’s too little, for both of us.

And then there’s Matthew.

I feel so stupid just at the mention of the name. But I guess that with these things you just have to feel a little stupid. And that’s all I have: a name. I don’t know who he is, what he does, what he sounds like, I’ve only ever read him. Hell, I don’t even know what he looks like, since I cannot know if it’s really him in the picture. Oh, but if he is… Is it even possible to like someone just reading what he writes? It could be all a fake, I get that, but if not? Almost none of the people I chatted up are still writing me but him. I thought he abandoned my virtual hummingbird as well, but he did resurface after all. And Tuesday night, when the darkest hours came, reading his message still brought a smile on my face. These days, it’s like a trip to the moon.

I’m dying to get to know the guy, but I’m extremely torn. He has never even hinted at asking my picture, we have shared no detail about our practical lives, and, again, when he asks me about my last relationship what am I going to say? And what if he doesn’t like me and disappears just like Batman did? What if he is the exact opposite of what I imagine him to be? It feels like limerence, maybe it is better as it is and it’s not really worth it, finding out how he is in reality. We talk of things I never talk about in reality with anyone because I can hide behind a screen. Once you find yourself in front of a cocktail, you ask about jobs, hobbies, habits… you lose the magic. True enough that I have no idea what would happen if I found myself in front of someone with whom I have already discussed it all. Maybe it would be easier just to go on. What if he chats like that with everybody, has tons of contacts and never meets any of them because what he likes is just the image he gives of himself? Maybe he is so smart that he can write anyone of us baits exactly what we want to hear. Or maybe I’m overimagining things and the truth is, he is just someone like me, going with the current and seeing where that takes him.

It’s this curiosity I can’t tame. Entering somebody else’s life, learning what their reality looks like, discovering their secrets. I need to explore the world.

And finally Maddie took off, against all odds. Attagirl.