She recalled the past: her father was planning a trip to Istanbul for the two of them as her graduation gift. He was an excellent partner in trips and they enjoyed each other's company a lot, but, sadly, he died suddently a little after she defended her PhD thesis. She graduated in absentia in order to visit him with her mother on his deathbed. Between her trip to Sundsvall and her flight to Istanbul she tried to put her thoughts together. On the way to Istanbul Anna fell almost asleep on the plane; She had too much raki; Or was it the izgara köfte that invited for significant amounts of booze? And then the quiet, shy and loyal Swedes: Johan, Stina, Linn; stress about her work, the need to settle in her new home prior to venturing in a foreign country again. Little she knew that she would have to fly again to Izmir a few days after coming back from Istanbul. This time, it was Froso who needed her help. 'We have to measure the horizon, find the great Goddess' she said. Excavation was on the way. She was ready again in the blink of an eye for adventure.
The truth was that out of all the places she had to change throughout her lifetime, Umeå came as the least painful experience. Of course in the beginning, like in every other big move, it was slightly depressing. One of the most difficult things to deal with was leaving her things back in Liverpool and saying goodbye to everyone. The first person she had to say goodbye to was Eleni. That happened in late June as Eleni had to depart for the excavation in Asia Minor. They hugged each other for at least a good hour. Their eyes were watery and they had to do it outside the flat as Nick was just nesting on her sofa. She wanted to get rid of him so bad and take care of Eleni. The last days in England were weird as well. She had to meet so many people and wave goodbye, shed a tear on their shoulders and the like. Then her students; she took them out on the last night in Blackburn. Kieron was there too. They all met in a pub called 'the Post' in Blackburn. She was tired and had an annoying sty inside her left eyelid. It was Ben, Kerry, Joeleen, Madison and Joeleen's boyfriend, Jamie. She got them some drinks and they got them some too. They were loud, altogether. She was happy not to teach them anymore and kind of relieved that they could talk without any sort of restrains. She had funny ideas about teaching. The UK teaching system was quite different to the way she was taught. Yet again, she had attended a school that was quite special in the sense that her teachers always treated students like adults that had some sort of borderline disorder. It is hard to deal with teenagers, she always thought.
So in the pub she let go with her 'kids' as she called them. Kerry and Joeleen were both sad and happy to see her go. Ben was, as usual preoccupied with some mild girl-teasing. She laughed when she found out they all interrogated Kieron afterwards: 'have you been seeing our teacher?' Ben was extremely explicit. The girls knew. Kieron was there, the best shoulder to cry on. He knew the whole thing. The despair, the abortion, the depression. He was a rock, he wrestled bears. He pulled her up with breakfast baguettes from subway and car mechanics. She really loved him and tried to help him as much as she could. First, his divorce papers, then boosting his ego a little. He was devastated about loosing his kids, naughty Alex and pretty Melissa and she had seen this before. First her own brother, Daniel, then Jason, when his wife almost left him for a younger man. All they thought of was their babies, rather than their partners. She remembered the letter Jason showed her:
Dear Jason,
It is not without some sadness that I write this letter to you to say that after twelve years of marriage, and after fourteen years of being together, that I want to divorce. After all, I was the one who relentlessly pursued you in Rome, and now I am the one who wants to end this marriage. I don’t know if you’ll be surprised by this decision or not. I have been thinking on this ever since you decided to move to San Fransisco, and as you know, I have not had an easy time transitioning to California. During my trip to Aarhus, I spent a lot of time thinking about the past three years. The issues driving this decision are large and are beyond cure at this point. We have both done our best to work through the issues which I shall describe below, but we haven’t made any progress. At this point, it makes sense to me to work independently.
As much as this may hurt right now, I believe that in time you will see this as the right decision for both of us to take. I offer these points in no particular order, but I think you will benefit from them. First, I know you have great guilt about not being able to be with and care for Annalisa during your school year. I often feel like a single mother (and was during our year of separation), and I have resented that at times, but I also know that with my job and schedule, that I can care for her when she is in school. I help her with homework. We play together. I would like to propose that I care for Annalisa when she (and you) are in school. I will continue caring for her like I do, and you will be able to work hard, to keep your own schedule, and to write your publications without worrying about neglecting your family. In the summer, and during breaks, you could have Annalisa and can freely give all of your time to her.
Regarding your work and your schedule, I can’t imagine that you enjoy coming home to me. We rarely talk anymore. I only wear my wedding ring when you and I are out together. I am often surly or apathetic when you enter the house late in the evening, tired from school. It must not be easy to try to keep happy when you know I am not. As I see it, we have a marriage of convenience, where there is a division of labour. I don’t like the arrangement, the lack of passion, and the fact that over the years the only thing we have in common is our daughter.
Concerning money, the divorce may be helpful to you in that you will be able to collect some alimony from me (how much is up to the state of California to decide), perhaps some child support for the time which you have Annalisa, and I believe that your half of your unsecured credit card debt will be passed to me to pay off. I am quite concerned about the constant calling by debt collectors, and I know that come August, you may be able to do something about it. I have been waiting patiently and have tried, on occasion, to prompt you to action with these financial issues. There’s only so much I can do, and I have now done all I can. There’s nothing else that I can do to help, and perhaps by assuming half of your debt via divorce, that this may give you some assistance.
Concerning living arrangements, I know our lease is up and we are considering renewal. I do think that you should continue to live here in the apartment. I will move my things out this spring. You will not have to worry about the time and money it will take to move. Annalisa can maintain her room. You will finally be able to have my office instead of working on the couch or on the bed, so it will be better for you. You love San Francisco. You love this place. You have friends here. And the lease rate you negotiated you should be able to pay for now that your salary is almost double what it was (starting in September). I am happy to continue to pay the rent through August to help you. As for where I will stay, that remains uncertain. It’s possible I can have an efficiency apartment or studio here. It’s more likely that I move back to New York to work in the office full-time. I may move somewhere else, I don’t know. But you should stay where you are, where you are established and at home. All your belongings are here. I have very little as you know, so it’s easier for me to relocate. I have never liked San Francisco, and I have never liked living in an apartment. True that there are some glorious days here that I have enjoyed, but I miss seasons, and I miss trees. I miss freezing. I hate 80+ degree days. I moved here because of you and to keep you and Annalisa together. I did this begrudgingly, but I swallowed my pride and moved. I thought I would warm to the place, but I have not. I feel like I only occupy it. I work and live in a box. I cannot see that changing through 2012.
We have separate careers, and the potential is there that you will finally get your full-time appointment, maybe even tenure-track at Berkley. I hope you do. You obviously love it here, and you love your colleagues and your students. You are becoming famous, and you are loved. I don’t want to take that from you. You have earned this and you should continue to grow here. For me, my time out of the Wileys-Khunt office may be hurting my chances for any kind of advancement. I feel like I need to be there full-time so I can effectively run the place once Lois and Leticia retire. Granted, the business is being given to Seven, but there is the probability that he will either sell out or that he will need for me to run the Biology side of things. I have to be there. I don’t see how I can be more to Wileys-Khunt while I remain in San Francisco, and I could never ask you to move back to New York now with things so good at Berkley. I have always looked for New York-area jobs for you, but always come up empty. At this point, it makes sense that we do our own things with our own careers.
You know that I am dissatisfied with my work at times, and that I am always considering doing other things. I do feel that by living here in San Fransisco that I am missing out on a lot of opportunity. Take Mt. Chase Lodge in Maine, for instance. That would have been perfect, at least for me, but even for us as a family to manage the property. I would have realized a dream of mine. It completely broke my heart to leave that possibility behind. It became clear to me then that your heart really is in your teaching and that it belongs in California. It also showed me where my heart lies, and that it continues to be restless and eager for challenge and for change. You asked me yesterday if I was going to apply to the Journal of Biology as its head of publications which would require a relocation. I said I was considering this. Again, we would have to split up if I was awarded the job. The more we consider these opportunities, the more we must realize that if we follow our careers that we will ultimately have to live apart.
Perhaps the hardest part of this letter for me to write is the one that is the most personal to me, and I don’t want to break your heart any more than I have already. I really miss being intimate. I miss being spontaneous. There is no passion when we kiss. I’m sure you feel like when I kiss you briefly goodbye in the morning that it’s like pulling teeth for me. Once upon a time I was able to arouse you and you would please me just by surprising me with affection. Remember our Winter Olympics tradition (which sadly was forgotten this year)? It made me incredibly happy to please you and to be pleased by you, but it has been years since we’ve shared anything passionate. It feels now like we’re just two people sharing a place. It’s lonely for me, and I am sure that it is lonely for you. I keep waiting for you to surprise me during my workday when you are at home, but instead you choose to sleep for hours. I stopped making any kind of advances because you are always tired or in pain or just not in the mood. We’ve talked about this before, but I don’t see us getting any closer. It reminds me of your parents, this whole thing. They live together, but there is no passion, little emotion except anger; your father especially seems to live resigned to walking his dog and sleeping next to his wife, not with her. I am so lonely in that bed with you, and I am tired of that feeling.
You deserve better than what you are getting from me. While I take care of our daughter, pay rent and bills, and help with most of the chores, that’s all you seem to get from me. You do not get the love you deserve and that you should have. At the same time, I feel that I should have something more beyond what we have together now. I want affection; I want to feel appreciated; I do not want to feel like I am being taken advantage of, like I will always be there to bail people out or to come to the rescue. I have every confidence that as popular and as beloved as you are, that it will be easy for you to find a woman who can love you better than I can, who has the same interests, and who will show you more attention and attraction than I have shown you in the past few years, someone who will be happy with you. I am not being fair to you, and I feel again like I am denying my own happiness by remaining in this marriage.
It has taken me years to write this letter, and the thing that’s held me back from writing this and from actually letting you know how I feel is because I am averse to conflict and am averse to causing pain. But at this point in my life, I feel like I have put my own goals and happiness aside for too long. I know Annalisa will be devastated when we tell her, but she is strong and will get beyond those feelings of sadness. She still has both of her parents whom she loves dearly, and she’ll get undivided attention from both of us should we agree to share her along the lines of what I wrote above. We both know lots of kids with divorced parents, and they do turn out alright. I think it’s better to do this now than to wait. To wait any longer perhaps would make it harder on Annalisa, and on both of us.
As far as next steps, I’d like to go through a divorce mediation expert and avoid court if at all possible. I’d like to treat this split as Amanda and Mike treated theirs. I’ll support you as much as I can, and I hope we’ll continue to be friends. I see your sister and Joe when they are together. It must have been hard on them at first, but there’s some laughter now. I want the best for you, and, strange as it may sound, this split will be good for both of us. Regarding Annalisa, I’d like shared custody, and I’d like for both of us to be involved in major decisions in her life, of course. I’d like permission to take her out of California should I move to New York or elsewhere, and to take her on trips with me from time to time. Regarding property, we really have no equity or savings to speak of. You can keep your car; I can keep mine. I’d take my furniture, and you can get a new bed (I know the one we have is killing your back and hips). I’ll take my clothes, books, music, computer equipment, musical instruments, and photographic equipment and Aikido gear. Again, I don’t have very much of anything. You can keep the rest to do with as you will.
It will take between 6-12 months to make things official legally. I can transition out of the apartment in May, and can sleep on the couch or outside on the porch until then. In this way, I can mind Annalisa while you do your schoolwork, managing exams, and turning in your grades. I can continue to help financially, and can give you plenty of time to work. Once the academic year is over, I can be out, and you and Annalisa can begin your summer together. Annalisa I am still willing to use my frequent flyer miles to get the two of you to Door County again, and to see your parents, whom I will dearly, dearly miss. One benefit of this split is that you’ll no longer have to be worried about my folks; you won’t have to see them again. Sometimes I wish that were true for me, too, of my own parents, as awful as that is to write. But there’s another benefit for you.
I’m sure there will be lots of questions, hurt, sadness and maybe anger with my decision. Maybe relief. I don’t know. I wanted to give this to you in writing so that you could read it alone, go through it at your own speed, to try to understand why I feel like I do, and why this is the best decision for us now. I want to move on, and I want you to be able to find your happiness in someone else while you continue your amazing career at Berkley.
I love you, and I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused, but it’s time for us to do our own things.
M.
Anna thought to herself: ‘how can a letter be so powerful’: not something that she wrote: obviously, but a letter Marie wrote to her husband, her good friend and colleague, Jason. She later found out that his response was simple, yet effective. A text message from Jason to his wife: ‘No, I would not let this happen!’. Jason was trying to protect his hearth, his home. Like so many other people who 'stay together for the sake of their children'. But Kieron was happy with his kids and his new girlfriend and that made Anna even happier. 'He deserves the best' she always thought. The game of love is indisputably hard to play: there is a lot of emotional manipulation involved. She recalled her own marriage quite often. Being with him was like a rollercoaster of emotions at first. Love, passion, anger, fear and terror; relief when she gathered all her strength and left him.
It was the first day of June of 2009. The sun was glorious in the Northwest. She hired a van with her favourite person in the world, Eleni and she left, while he was away for his final Master’s exam in Functional Maths. She stood by him for nine years. At first, she was proud of it, only to realise her mistake and bitterly regret it a week before she left him forever. She always thought it was because her feelings, perhaps like most people, brewed and matured with time. Much like excellent, almost glossy grapes brewing for many years only to become sweet wine. She smiled to herself and thought of Ioli. She was always worried about Anna as she was about her; the last time she spoke with her, she was deeply engaged into a game of strength and discipline again. She was wearing her grandmother’s blue coat and was working away in some garden in Londinium, wearing white to reflect on her ivory-coloured face and looking as frail and deadly as Dracula’s pretty pride.
They were friends since 1999. They met at the Uni where they both did Theatrical studies. Then they both ended up in England, different cities, same feelings. Ioli had chosen the cosmopolitan London whereas Anna lived and studied in socialist Liverpool. They had joked about this and said that ‘it’s only because we need to be in multiple places at the same time’, a cute comic moment of the fact that they looked like twin sisters. She started considering all she thought were important people in her life. Every single one of them was a woman, apart from her father. Her mother had affected the ways she felt about the world. So had her Nona and somehow, her sister. She was afraid to talk to them about her marriage, these years were so dark. She was trapped in a world of fear, constantly trying to find ways to escape. ‘you’ve got violence and darkness in your heart as well, you just don’t know how to deal with it’, Yorgos used to tell her. All she really held to be her own was legible, clear patterns: a dream to see the world and everything that takes one to the realisation of it.
After their first winter together, she knew. It would be the template for a series of dark winter nights without the crystallised peacefulness of snow. No snowballs thrown, no comforting food for the soul. Just randomness, chaotic thoughts and then the fear. Fear of what was coming, a future trapped in a two bedroom flat with walls covered in fractals, stains of food, as he used to throw away her dinner when he felt like it. A nightmare coming alive. ‘How does one still believe there’s light out there in this world? Where’s beauty and comfort?’ She recalled Sophocles: ‘the greatest boon is to never been born’. The fear she felt was not visible to everyone. When one’s soul is filled with darkness, it is visible in their eyes. They are dark, same as those depicted in posters from New Orleans: black talented jazz musicians of the 50s who are unfortunately hooked in heroine.
But last year, prior to her moving to Sweden, things were already different, yet no significant improvements. There was no violence, at least not physical. Nick was now there, but things weren't exactly good. If anything, it was worse. Nick was British, so he carried all the rationalism and the strong passions of the Saxon race. His policy was harnessing optimistic and pessimistic thoughts under a thin layer of sarcasm. That was why she initially became attracted to him. Yet he had nothing significant or strong to back the relationship up. He wasn't a strong, supportive adult man, more like a child with traumas. She wondered how could she fool herself so bad, falling in love with a man who wasn't anything she wanted and did not cover her physically, sexually or emotionally. She lit a naughty cigarette. The strong, aromatic buds of weed overtook her senses: ‘but if he was the one’, she thought, ‘why the hell didn’t I keep his child’. This thought filled her heart with darkness again: 'children are a gift from God'. a muslim friend of hers once said. Well, for Anna it wasn't. Her logic wouldn't accept this, yet her body responded weirdly to the first symptoms of pregnancy. On top of all the hormonal mess, she thought she was in love, yet she wasn't. But why the hell did she try to save the relationship so many times, running after him and the like? Unable to answer her own questions, she went through her old computer files. She had kept some correspondence. A bunch of emails were still there. She thought it might not be a good idea to read them again, but she went through some of it. She read it out loud.
Dear Nick,
I am sorry. I’m going through a difficult time in terms of career choices and the like and it is really killing me. I try to be in 18378163726 directions all at once and I feel I am not considerate enough with you at the moment. If I was concentrated on my email while you were trying to hold a conversation with me, I dearly apologise. If I did speak with friends and family instead of you, it is because I’m going through some difficult times and I need my mother’s advice. She loves you very much and so do I. I’m not upset with you, I don’t want to keep you hostage, but I do hate it when you leave me like this, it's a patterned behaviour. You can't take confrontation, you don't give me enough affection, we mostly sit on the sofa and watch TV which I am not keen on. Then when I try to talk to you about all the things I want from a relationship, the love, the affection, the sex, you switch yourself off. Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to brick wall.
Contrary to what most people want, all I want is the fun of our relationship and I hardly care about where you and I will be tomorrow or if you will still love me. To love me, to leave me, to adore me, these are all your choices as the same are mine. I do understand you need your own space and so do I. But you don't seem to want to commit the same way I do and everytime I try to explain how much I need you to be there mentally and physically, you block me out with a steel stare. I could go on for ages about how unaffectionate and paranoid you can be but I’m too exhausted to have an argument and too unstable to defend myself or to keep you where you don’t feel like you belong.
Anna.
She sat down and erased all their correspondence, each and every email, one by one. This is how she dealt with heartbreak. She just forgot about it slowly and moved on. She did not want people to think she had a trauma, a problem etc. She was perhaps too proud or too stubborn for that kind of stuff, plus she had too many activities to keep her busy and excited. She suffered emotionally as a teen, and later with her marriage and all. She was old enough and strong enough to know that real happiness springs from within. In her late years she dealt with it like a grown up. She just sipped tequila or smoked a cigarette in the dark with Nola and slowly, she forgot. She looked at her diary, the '30' section and read out loud again:
'It’s all in written in brain science', my Polish sister said. Age 30 and 27 respectively, the minute Nola walked into my life things changed. She was pretty and quirky and a little hyper, just like me. We became very intimate from the first time we met and she spoke to me in ways that could reflect exactly how I’ve thought. We had a social grooming girl meeting every Sunday morning, where we’d do things to each other, like long baths (but never together in a hot tub!) massages, a little punk rock and a spliff. She was pretty and small, with ginger locks and a brave smile. I enjoyed hugging her and giving her a tarot reading. See, before getting pregnant with Nick's child, which I did not wish to keep, I thought I knew well the human psyche- I could give interpretations to all my feelings and more likely I was guided by logic rather than emotion. Tarot cards where the perfect fake magic for me. It amused me to say loads of crap to Nola and so did she. After what happened that September, my abortion and my alienation from Nick, I’ve experienced a lot of emotional discomfort, mainly because it felt as if I was a tree, aware that my flowers were taken off me violently, never to transform into fruit.
Nick wasn't a bad guy, he just wasn't for me. He used to tell me, truth to be told, that he was upset things went so wrong between the two of us. 'We were two good people, caught in a very unlucky moment'. For me, it wasn't that simple. None of the things he was really did it for me. We did not like the same things, or maybe we did, but I never thought he could understand what I really wanted, although I used to tell him, clearly. He always interpreted this as a miscommunication because 'English wasn't my first language'. Bullshit. My English skills were OK. Not perfect, but OK. He couldn't cope with my 'social butterfly' character, my boy sides, my intense character, hyperactivity, adjustability, sociability, freedom, personal space and massive amounts of attractive male and lesbian friends. But things went just so wrong. And he was wrong right from the start, only I couldn’t see. I blamed it in my constant craving for affection. I liked affectionate people. I liked being touched, touching back, holding tight, whispering sweet nothings. Most importantly, after all these years of emotional despair and isolation within my marriage, I needed someone to come home to, feel that I belonged, but Nick, although a nice dude, wasn't that kind of material. Moreover, he couldn't understand me. He seemed to fall for women who indulged in power games and I hated that shit.
However, the fact that I got pregnant, became both the reason for attachment and detachment. It all became clear for me, my make believe feelings for Nick, maternity, love, sex drugs and rock and roll issues, when by early April 2011, I got a letter from Misty- she was pregnant with James’ child. I was a little worried because James’ facebook status was still ‘married’, obviously to someone else. Dearie me, I thought. That’s messed up! But in reality, I was happy for my American friend. I wrote back to her straight away:
My sweetest Misty
Now I finally have a little time to write to you. I think you will be an awesome mum and I think that a child will help you grow even more wise and beautiful. Also, your dog sounds pretty cool to me. Have you thought of babynames yet? I can help you if you want! Have you thought about a native American name! My Pocahontas is having a baby!
There is a man in my life these days yes. We've been friends since World of Warcraft for about 3 years now and I helped him a little (as a friend) to get over his painful break up about a year ago. He also helped me dealing with my divorce, my break up from Nick, my abortion, all that shit. He is the same age as me (30) and he is an IT/ Programmer (I think this term works in American English too). He treats me really nice so far and he keeps telling me how beautiful and amazing I am which is something I much needed as all my past relationships seem to have crushed my ego. I do not love him though. And he is aware of that. And Misty, the latest man in my life, Nick,- as you know- crushed my ego in many ways, said hurtful things and became overall controlling and rude, especially after our common decision on the abortion.
I had a really tough year as I told you over the phone, little money, not many jobs in the UK and a lot of pressure from home to go back to Greece as I've now got property there and in fact... Despite my friends in Liverpool and beyond are my family, for the Fokas I have no family, I mean I do... but all they care about themselves. I sometimes have the feeling that they are trying to impose their rules on me in several ways in order to get what they want... but I guess that's just Greeks. I felt like a failure from September until February, divorced, with an abortion in my history, a PhD that does not offer me other than a 'fancy' title and a job that is unbelievably demanding. I teach now in 3 different institutions: a college in Blackburn where I deal with kids that seem to be mostly products of the 1990s Rave Craze, some of them mistakes that have been adopted by foster families or are raised by single mothers. I admire them for having the strength to raise them on their own. I am too self indulgent and scared for that. I would like to raise children (if ever) with a partner I can trust.
Blackburn's earthliness made me realise that I'm out there in the real world and there's a lot of sadness loneliness and fear for the future but also pure unrestrained love. I love my Blackburn kids to bits- but it's a scary job. Last week a kid showed up in my class with a machete- he was threatening another student. I handle them well though and they trust me more than any other lecturer in there, or at least I hope so. Or at least I think so... I always treat them as equals and I have an ear for all their troubles. I also teach in a girls Muslim School (Fully covered girls! Ninja style!). They're so funny and ace and they are trying to make me laugh all the time. They don't mind me being Greek and an infidel because they know my deep rooted appreciation for Islam and my dear Allah and Mohammed. Dude, they are ace. I wish I believed in a Supreme Being- I’d be a good disciplined muslim girl very easily. I admire them for their lore and general beliefs.
My 'kids' in Blackburn helped me overcome my sadness in September. When I was in the deep downs, they would figure and tell me sweet things or hang out with me while writing my article, play music for me in the classroom, learning, asking questions. I think depression was probably visible on my face: I was devastated Misty, I had no shoulder to cry on. People seem to handle me with care there. I spoke to Andy on occasions, I hope that he has found a sexy Italian to play with. Andy is a good boy and I'll always miss him. Anyways, these were my news- my skype is umbra.lunae hehe :) Lots of kisses to you, James and your belly.
Annou
The best thing that ever happened to me after I got offered the job in Sweden was that I finally braved up myself to leave Nick. In our last Skype conversation I appeared courageous, almost illustrious. We spoke for about an hour. I told him all about my feelings, the pregnancy, his denial, my denial, my abortion. I asked him how he feels and he said he is doing OK. I told him a little bit about my recent trip to Blackpool with Kieron; how much I fell in love with the place and its 1930s grotesque theme parks. He was incapable to see the beauty, he said. He went on for a bit about the place’s overall tackyness. Then somehow he burped on Skype and I pulled a face; he asked me if I was offended and said, no, but clearly stated that it is not the sexiest thing to do either. I tried to joke a bit about it but, as per usual, he didn’t quite get my humour, he only read: sarcasm. I said to him not to worry, as there’s too much information in my mind in general. He stated that, this is often the case with criminally insane people. Then we had a long conversation about what is considered to be criminally insane and what not. The discussion went as follows until I quoted Mach’s Gut to him.
“If someone tells you he’s unhappy, don’t take it on faith. Just ask him if he can sleep... If he can, then all’s well. That’s good enough. I would never again succeed in sleeping fully. I had lost, so to speak, the habit of trust, the enormous trust you need to sleep soundly among human beings. I’d have needed at least an illness, a fever, a specific catastrophe to retrieve some small part of my old indifference, neutralise my anxiety, and recapture the divine stupidity of an easy mind.”
During our conversation, my mother kept on popping by, only to ensure that I was not talking with him. I tried to type discreetly and he figured. He wondered why my mother wasn’t anymore keen on him. I almost lied and told him that it’s my choices in life she disagrees with: abortion, failed marriage and relationships, shitty job. He asked me if I included him in my shitty choices, and then I had to lie again and say no, but on the other hand I made my sentiments for him clear. I told him that I feel that he is not quite crazy about me but it's not his fault, really. He counterattacked my argument by claiming that I forget that there is feeling and expression; two different aspects of emotion and that he probably does not express himself the right way for me but I also do not for him, either. He then went on telling me that I always say he does not love me but he had never really felt able to, as when one person expresses so often it is difficult for the other to do so. I guess by the term ‘one person’ he meant me, but I was just being myself, so that was a statement that really made me worry about my mental health.
To this I replied that it's OK it's all in the past and things would have been easier if I didn't get pregnant, we might have finished earlier, and by that I didn't mean it that I was planning to. He got upset and said that I might have thought instead, maybe if that did not happen it would have gone on for longer. He admitted to express frustration to me more often that I should because he never felt listened to: ‘despite the fact that you are capable of looking after yourself, there are times when your decisions have the potential to be damaging to you, and you do not realise: like phoning and driving, Anna’ he stated. To this I replied that we can be friends and start anew. I was also clear about perhaps my biggest mistake in life so far: I took the pill and allowed him to release his lust inside me; but I guess I was madly in love and I lost the ground, I just submitted to my feelings too much. Jokingly, I admitted that I survived a destructive earthquake, a few deaths of adored ones and a broken heart, so I must be doing something right.
The truth was that I had no expectations from other people anymore, so the best thing for everyone around me was to let go of expectations from me. ‘I'm just me, my love’, I told him. ‘I like having fun and sleeping under the stars’. To all this, he replied coldly that every decision has its pros and cons, in general, to live one's life that way. I admitted that I'm all pink and fluffy inside, despite the dark outside and that all I really need is to be encouraged and adored. To this he replied that his ex girlfriend (that was, again, me) two weeks ago, would disagree with me: ‘ The Anna I knew thought she was dark inside’. To this, I tweaked: I told him that his ex girlfriend was probably badly hurt and that he probably never gave her a hug when she went all emo; he perhaps could not make her feel as he could do the impossible for her. He replied that he has no idea what that even means...let alone how to do it. He also insisted that she got more hugs than she remembers. To this I couldn’t but reply that ‘poor ex girlfriend of yours, she didn't get to be a mum because it wasn't the right time’. He said that she did some good, special things for him, sometimes many things that he didn't ask for and never wanted, but she insisted and then resented them. I told him that therefore there's a reason why she's an ex and not a current girlfriend, and then her pregnancy showed who you both really were. For him, we were just ‘good people in a messy situation’.To this I replied that we were just a drone and a queen but no nest, therefore no point.
He said: ‘you have a very odd way of thinking about things, not just the words...the perspective; I think you make it more complex than it ever was’.
‘I just know Nick, that if it was you getting pregnant, I would give up anything to protect you and the seed’, I replied. Nick put on his droopy eyes and asked me what did he/did not do. As at the time it was clear that I felt the same way about the situation...and he was clear with me that it was as much, if not more my decision, because he could not live with himself any other way. I comforted him by telling him that I'm not blaming him, it's just ‘not what I wanted, that’s all’. The story was done and dusted for me then, I survived. I also told him that I’m sure there will be a girl out there that will make him happy by just existing without drowning him in her endless love and I’m sure I'll be happy with a man or a woman someday. To this he said he was unaware of my true feelings on the pregnancy. I said to him that this was because, ‘abortion was so easy', 'it takes only 2 minutes' and 'won't hurt' and of course that 'in some cases it's just a pill'. He reminded me of how scared I was and wondered what I would have done if I was him. I reminded what I told him back then: 'if I was you I'd do anything possible to protect both, but I didn't want to be a single mum or keep the man I once adored in a box’.
He was surprised that I still characterised it as a dichotomy, which it never was; I told him that it was inevitable as he did the same. A baby for him at the time meant no career, no fun. He told me once more: ‘ Anna, we talked about this at the time...it is not necessarily so, but it does inevitably make the other things in life that people want to achieve more difficult; having a child is a trade off, that is just the way that it is....but it does not mean that you cannot do those things, it makes them more difficult’. I replied that no one inspired 'ready' to the other so I guess we might as well move on amicably. He said that he doesn’t think anyone ever feels ready....but we were not together for long, and it hasn't exactly been a stable relationship since, perhaps that is part of the reason: he also said clearly that I should not think to myself that this is what he wanted: ‘Anna, I tried many times to talk to you and to think of ways to resolve problems. I admit that I made poor decisions, but then again, we both did/do. maybe we are not good together - too different, or maybe we are good together (because sometimes it was very good, you know that too)....but not thinking that I loved you is a big part of the problem on your side, and on mine there are other reasons.’
These other reasons, I didn’t care about, I couldn’t care about anymore. I realised to my surprise that he was not the same person I thought I fell in love with; my Nick was fun and intelligent and quirky and we shared amazing experiences together. He taught me so many things and I loved making him happy- but the truth was, he had hurt me and he wasn't really what I wanted at first place. And from that point onwards I really decided to never let myself break down again for any twat, wanker, pig, tyrannosaurus and other such species.
Throughout my second year in Normanton Avenue, things seemed to have changed dramatically. That day I had the opportunity to test my 'throwing paper balls to one another' skills against my young student, Madison. Madison was named after the main character of the movie Splash, featuring Daryl Hana. My student in fact somehow lived in the 1980s. Bright colours, bleached blonde hair and mischievous, l green eyes. Madison was a pretty girl and she knew it. The boys were queuing outside room 114 just to see her walking past. Madison had a womanly, loopish walking style. She knew how to be slow and seductive, almost prowling towards her target. She often spoke of her family that she loved very much, and of her boyfriend, Connor. Most importantly, she was a pretty girl with brains.
On her side, Shanice was trying not to get involved too much. Reserved and methodical, Shanice was nothing but severe looking. She was girly, with pink cheeks and naturally pretty apart from her (normally bright red) nail varnish. She had long honey-coloured locks and eyes of unidentified colour. She looked a little bit like a fairy of the forest she was from, Clitheroe. Shanice had a Picasso styled tattoed dove on her wrist and was a single mother’s child. She had two more sisters, ‘one more opinionated than the other’.
Kerry was interestingly sweet. Curvier than the other two she enjoyed mostly the company of boys. Being from a troubled home and growing rather insecure and unloved, she was settled in with her boyfriend, Dom and his friend. I loved Kerry to bits, she reminded me of myself. Chilled, always smelling of weed and chatty and supportive. Intelligent, alternative, fun. Kerry once told me she wanted a final fantasy brides’ dress, I told her it would match her blue eyes and she smiled at me.
In their world Anna was 'a little lazy and very demanding' like them. She had a vast amount of knowledge that she was impossible to transmit unless she was inspired'. What they did not know is that they kept me sane through months of severe depression after the abortion. I would be in the deep downs for so long and it felt as if I was underwater, their voices echoing in my head, but never really there. I woke up one day during a reading of the Odyssey, when Alex asked me why the hell 'they called Dawn rosy-fingered'. He made me recall the sunrise above the vineyards of my village on the island. Bright pink and orange in the summertime, full of beauty. I was lenient and caring to all of them, they replaced fear in my heart with happiness and laughter. Even when Madison had tresspassed my line of trust with homework never handed in and actually getting me in trouble with the school principal, I ignored those above me and did not kick her out of my class. I apologised to her first and gave her a sea shell from the Isle of Skye that I promised her before we fell out. I wanted to teach her that trust is something that 'needs to be earned’. Weird teaching techniques from a teacher that hates teaching, was what Kieron jokingly said; Maybe it’s all because ‘I can’t tell people what to do’ I replied. It was true. I always wanted people to love me with no expectations and I loved them the same way.
