Coward love

I am a quarter of a century old. 25 years. I have had this blog for six years now and written in it more or less regularly, depending on the mood of the day. The more I write, the more depressed and emotional I usually am but I am working on that over-dramatic side of me. Remember when you were a sixteen year old girl, imagining what your life was going to be like was so easy. I was this super confident and big mouthed girl that just knew what she wanted. A big career, a man that would adore her and the perfect jetsetter life... but life didn't exactly turn out the way I thought it would. I met a man, I fell in love, I moved to another country for him and time passed. I read my last entry and I felt nostalgic about all the butterflies and hopes and dreams I had of what this relationship was going to be. I am not unhappy in my relationship but sometimes I wonder if I am happy in it... It's been almost two years since I have moved to Switzerland in order for us to be together. My career has evolved in the right direction, so in any case, the move will never have been for nothing as it has helped me gain experience and climb a few steps up the ladder. When I was sixteen, I believed that love was with a capital L. L-O-V-E. Butterflies in your stomach all the time and this warm fuzzy feeling. I believed that when I would be in a serious relationship it would be the real deal. I wouldn't compromise with just "ok". I would go for the crazy stupid kind of love. The one where you go head over heels for someone. Where you cry on the bedroom floor after a fight because you feel like the world is going to end if he doesn't come back. The kind of love that you want to be together all the time and that when you are separated every single second feels like hours. And in the beginning of my relationship it was the case. There was passionate love-making and passionate fights with tears and doors slamming and love messages and sweet words competing with screaming and throwing plates against the wall. But with every passing month the passion wore out. And now we are just comfortable. Too comfortable. When we fight, I still scream and he still walks out when it becomes too loud but it doesn't hurt the same way anymore. When he leaves, I don't feel this gaping hole inside my chest anymore. Sometimes I even feel relieved. We almost broke up a month ago. Almost. At first it didn't hurt. Not at all. Then it hurt a bit and I cried. But the pain didn't last and I actually felt relieved.... relieved.... I can't believe I am actually saying it. Seeing it black on white makes it all more real. It makes it so much sadder. So much more dramatic. I was relieved my boyfriend wanted to leave me. He is supposed to be the man I am planning on spending the rest of my life with. He is supposed to be the father of my children, my partner in crime until I grow old and I didn't feel sad when I thought I would never feel his arms around me again. I love him. I do. But I feel like we got so comfortable that I don't know if I love him because it is the easy thing to do or if I love him because he is my soulmate. What if I am just a big coward that doesn't want to put herself out there anymore because it has been too hard in the past and she has given way too much to be where she is now, to lose it all again....

A lot can happen in two months

My last blog entry dates from March 31st... When I read it, it feels like a lifetime ago. The old saying, the only way to get over someone is to get under someone else, still applies. Paris was a synonym for my Mr. Big for 4 years. I never found love in this city, because I was one hundred percent sure, that I would only find it in the arms of Mr. Big. 4 years of lies, stupid fights, and waiting... waiting for him to change, waiting for him to stop the games, waiting for him to be the man I wanted him to be.

When Mr. Big finally came back to me, I had found someone who was a real confidence boost for my broken ego. I had found someone that I loved hanging around with and that I was completely comfortable with. I could hang around in my sweatpants and still feel sexy and desirable, because I could see in his eyes, that it didn't matter what I wore, he still found me beautiful. And yet, I stopped seeing Sam because I wanted my happy ending with Mr. Big. I had waited so long for it to happen, I couldn't just give up on it now.

We had one perfect evening before the bubble burst. One perfect evening to say goodbye I guess. One perfect evening full of love, kisses and happiness. Then I got home, and his best friend decided that he didn't want us to be together and told him about my so-called unfaithfulness. How can I be unfaithful to someone I am not even dating, that, until now, is still a mystery for me.

When Mr. Big called me to tell me it was over, that he wanted me out of his life, that he never wanted to talk to me again, I was waiting for my heart to break... a few tears rolled down my face and then I became angry. I had suffered through so much and still loved him. I had endured everything a person can possibly endure and never put any blame on him. I had sacrificed my honor for him. I had forgiven without even being told "I'm sorry" and he could just quit, just like that. No conversation. No explanation. No nothing. Why was I not worth fighting for? Why should I be the one that was always begging for his love, when he should have been glad that I was still giving him mine after so much time?

So I didn't fight. I stopped. I stopped loving him, I stopped caring for him and most of all, I stopped making excuses for his behavior. I had finally had enough. I was done. Drained out. Not ready to give anymore. So where does this leave me? What is my happy ending?

At first I thought, well, Sam and me can maybe take our relationship to the next level. But then I realized I really didn't want to be with Sam. He is a good man. A kind man. We have amazing sex and I love cuddling in his arms to sleep but we are not meant to be together. He was the man that was there at the right time. Leaving Mr. Big was not easy, moving on was the hardest thing ever, but Sam was there to tell me I deserve more. To tell me, I'm completely stupid for even thinking about asking for forgiveness. He gave me the confidence I desperately needed. He gave me all I was looking for to become an independent happy woman again... and once that happened I met the most amazing man I've met in a very long time.

The first time I saw Moncef, I was in Montreux with one of my best girlfriends, completely styled up to go clubbing in my ex-boyfriend's club... I had put on an Herve Leger dress, Louboutin shoes and had gotten my hair styled by a five star hotel hairdresser... I had put eveything together, to make my ex-boyfriend regret he ever left me. And that's when our eyes met.

One look at the table next to mine made me see him. Right away. It was like he was the only person in the club. And thank god for my friends, they were quick to introduce us. We spent the night chit-chatting away and the next day we had our first date. Lunch and a walk around the lake before I had to head back to Paris. A couple of hours is all we had and yet, something magical happened.

But at the time, I wasn't open for any love, as my heart was still working on winning Mr. Big back. A faithful meeting in the beginning of February... who would have thought that 4 months later I would be in love with someone, thousands of kilometers away and not doubt that it can actually work out.

Mr. Big went out of my life. Sam built me back up to my old self confidence and when that happened, Moncef came to visit me in Paris. 3 days was all we had. But it felt like we already knew each other for ages. And when he left, I knew, he is one of the good guys. Messages after messages after messages, it became clearer and clearer that we're good together, so here I was, on a train to Switzerland to spend some time with the man I met months ago, never thinking that a relationship could be born from a just a glance across a club...

So now, we plan a weekend together every month. We talk every day. And oh my, don't I just love reading his messages. End of July, I lose my job. I can do anything I want basically. I can move to Switzerland if I want... And I might. For once, I actually think I want to settle down and I'm not just saying it. Can I imagine living with Moncef? YES. Can I imagine falling asleep next to him and waking up by his side every morning? YES. I have two months to figure out if I want to take a big leap of faith... Tic tac, the clock is running...

Brand new start or a re-run of the same old soap opera

In 36 hours my own personal Mr. Big is coming back to Paris.
That is how long I have to figure out what I want.
Ever since he has been away I've felt like I can breathe again.... and somehow, I've started seeing somebody. Sam just swooped into my life without me even realizing it until I woke up in his arms one day and couldn't figure out how I could ever fall asleep without them.
This is wrong. Completely wrong. This is not how things were supposed to go. Mr. Big was supposed to come back to Paris, swoop me off my feet and we would be together forever. But he came back and I've only seen him twice in two and half months. Well I saw him two more times but that was by accident, bumping into him in tiny Paris nightlife, when he was supposed to be home sick... Somehow no matter how good things are between us, lies always keep on crawling to the surface. I always thought the first lie would be the one that hurts the most. That with time I would get used to the blows and just roll with it. But it never stops hurting. And even when you think your heart is completely broken, it somehow manages to break even more.
Two days ago I got a call at work. He said he loves me. He said he can't imagine his life without me in it and that he misses me so much it hurts. The words were supposed to help my heart heal. They were supposed to make me happy. But somehow they just sounded hollow. Like they were trying to make up for all the pain caused. But can they ever heal me?
I thought we'd be together forever.... and now I've spent two weeks with someone else in my bed at night, and I enjoyed it. I feel guilty for being happy without him... When he's been happy without me for four years.
He's coming back and I don't know what I'm expecting or what I should do.
Does this mean that if I continue seeing Sam I'm cheating on him? Are we going to be together for real or is this just going to be one more episode of this pathetic love drama that has been going on for far too long?
Someone once said that "if you consider giving up on someone, you probably already have...". Have I given up on him and me being happy? And why is it so easy for me to be happy and content when I'm with Sam?
I'm so confused. I think I'm a good person. Someone should love me....

When mistakes become choices

4 years.... that's how long since I've known my Mr. Big. Charming, gorgeous, rich... a jetsetter, a party king, a social butterfly swooping in and out of my life, leaving me behind a little more damaged every time he leaves...
Every time my heart breaks because I've been foolish enough to trust him I tell myself this is the last time. I keep telling myself the same mantra "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me". I don't even know how many times he has fooled me and yet I keep doing the same mistake over and over again.
My friend posted a quote on Facebook a couple of days ago and when I read it, it just felt so ironic because it was speaking right at me: "You can't make the same mistake twice. The second time, it's not a mistake, it's a choice".
I choose to forgive him. I choose to let him back into my life. I choose not to let anyone else in because I still believe that eventually we'll be together forever.
I am 23 years old and I've stood by him through a divorce from a cheating, gold-digging wife, stood by him when his stalker ex-girlfriend made his life miserable, stood by him when his family forced him into a life he didn't want and was unhappy in, stood by him when he was so confused and couldn't find the right path, stood by him when he told me that he never loved me and that I was just a mistake, a second choice... And I've forgiven everything without him even apologizing for any of it. All he had to do was come back into my life after I had done all I could to finally move on.
And all it took was one single night in his arms. We slept so peacefully, our bodies in perfect harmony, moving in our sleep in order to be as close to each other as possible. Waking up to him saying "I love you baby" was enough to make all the bad go away. Or so I thought.
I love him. Oh lord knows I do. And every moment that passes, I wish I didn't. Because loving him is just so damn painful. Being pulled and pushed around like I'm some unbreakable toy has taken its toll on me and I'm not sure how to brave tomorrow.
Every day is a struggle. Every breath I take makes me feel like I'm about to suffocate.
And every time I reach the bottom and tell myself no more. No more lies. No more hopes. No more dreams of him and me and a future. He comes back. Says I'm the woman he wants to have a family with. Says I was the always THE one. Sometimes he has these glimpses where he realizes what I've been through for him and how much I love him. Those moments give me hope that maybe it'll be enough for us to be happy. But it is not.
Today he asked me why I loved him. I didn't know what to say. Because I don't have any reason to love him. He never did anything to deserve my love. He never did anything to deserve me. And yet here I am, hurting just like I've been hurting for the past 4 years. And I don't know if I can take much more...
I tired of making the same choices over and over again and telling myself, oh well, it was a mistake, better luck next time. But it is no mistake. It is a choice. And I really really hope, that with time I'll eventually learn how to make the right choice.