So be it

Two days ago, I was away from the city. Away from my everyday life, for a couple of days, not having to think of anything but catching a lucky break.

Girl-wise.
Come one, life never gives me a lucky break in that area. But well, just because life doesn't give you lemons doesn't mean you can't yearn for lemonade, right?

Sarah.

Her name is Sarah.

And she has everything I could ever have dreamed of.
And she has a boyfriend.

And I will never see her again.

That's basically it, in a nutshell.

Don't be mistaken, I know how to deal with shit. I've jumped though hoops one too many times, and I learned to have a short-term memory when it comes to my iffy shenanigans. I cope well, I cope fast and I forget without any trouble. Sometimes I think about it for quite some time, but it doesn't hurt; and I turn a blind eye on it because well

I don't really catch feelings anymore.

But I am facing a wall here.

Can anyone here explain to me why that girl, whom I know almost nothing about, is haunting my thoughts? Or more like, I just feel like shit?

There is one way to look at it. It was the last straw. Or the last nail. Or both. And yeah, I AM fed up. Because I DO try, but life does not seem to be willing to cooperate. I brought the glasses, the rum, the sugar, the mint, the lemonade; I can even make the mojitos myself. But please, when are you gonna give me the fucking lemons?
Yeah, I feel like the universe is against me on that one, and I feel like giving up. I think I just did, actually.
That is one way to look at it.

And there is mine.
That was the very first time that I didn't have to make a push for my feelings in 2 years. I did not have to brainwash myself in order to manufacture feelings that resemble what the heart could formerly produce. These substances that give a meaning to things that don't have any. I did not have to force.
I did not.
I was under her spell.

For no fucking reason whatsoever.

And I cannot wrap my head around the fact that it just happened out of nowhere.

Some will say it is actually a good thing. That "love at first sight" type of thing, it had not happened to me since Marion. I was 16.
16.
And having feelings, or at least something similar to that, created naturally without my even thinking about it
It's pretty damn rad.

And I guess it's true.
Just as much as the explanation that my disappointment emanates from an accumulation of failures and bad timing.

Combined, it offers a pretty damn good reason for me to feel a bit edgy.
Makes sense.
And you know what?

Fuck you.

I don't like that. The old me? Maybe. I am not him anymore.
I don't play to lose. I don't even play to find out in the end.
I play to win.

And I was not even given a single chance.

And god knows she was more that worth it.

And something was reborn, for an instant. The last piece of that new puzzle, the missing component. It was here, just in front of my eyes. But it was not mine. And I saw it get away.
No, I saw it stay away.

Because you can be goddamn sure that if I had been given a shot, I'd have taken it

And I'd have made the most out of that.
But now we'll never find out, eh

So I am here with my cup of Jack on a school night, not giving the single fuck I usually give; without a solution. Time is going to take its due once again I guess. But this time I don't want it to.

I have changed.
I don't want time to take that away from me.

I don't want to forget that moment.
I don't want life to remind me that I am making a gigantic deal out of nothing.

She epitomized hope. She is the first girl whose existence was, if only for a moment, an evidence in my eyes.

Something was revived, and it was burning again, more than it used to. So much more. And nothing could ever extinguish that one. But time is just going to take it away slowly. Once my sworn enemy, it saved my life
To eventually turn against me again.

Maybe it is for my own good. And maybe it is a miracle that proved me that, yeah, I can have genuine feelings again.
Maybe it dispelled my delusion that I had to wait for 2 years and 7 months before possibly retrieving the missing part - or replacing it.

Maybe bullshit

I live in the moment, and in 6 months I might read that and say I was stupid, but you know what future me, 

Fuck you

She is something right now, and I cannot afford to lose that. For my own sake.
Because she proved that I was not a fraud, not just a facade hiding the real me, broken, deep inside, and just waiting to heal. She proved that I have become real. That I am who I am right now, not who I used to be.

It beats again for fuck's sake.
It frickin beats again.

And I do feel alive. I very much do. I am done with you Emma.
I have not reached the 6th degree of separation. I would not take you back without hesitation. I would not take you back period.
But I don't need the 6th degree.
I don't need it anymore.
I am done with you and you excruciating legacy.

I am here, on the 16th story, with the city lights and the CN tower illuminating my world.
I built this world with my people and my own hands, I built who I am from scratch; and at last, I can feel again.

And if getting tipsy on a school night is the price I impose myself to pay, if I am deprived from clear thoughts for a couple of days, if I have to cope with life never giving me a shot again after Emma; all of that in order to break out of that golden cell and cut ties with my previous self to feel alive, if only for a few more hours

If I have to hurt again to feel sorta in love again...

_________________________________________________________________________________

"I don't understand that. You have Marshawn Lynch, the best runner in the game, a tackle-breaking machine at 3rd down and one at the one yard line with under 30 seconds to go in the Superbowl, you have to give him a shot. And you know what? If it fails and I lose the Superbowl because of that, then..."

_________________________________________________________________________________

So be it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NNinOL6Mnk

You're damn right there is

I needed fresh air. I needed to feel cold, I needed to be freezing, because at the moment I was convinced

That it would be only thing that'd help me feel alive.

I went out in the cold, sleeveless, walking, thinking, wondering. I stepped outside pondering about life and death, the fact that the two are intertwined and natural.
I can't accept that.

For either of them.

I was there, and I was not feeling that much more alive. Just cold.
I did not understand why things had to start if they are doomed from the start. I felt ashamed, ashamed of feeling uncomfortable in a life that is almost perfect. I felt bad realizing that the very fact I was able to contemplate these thoughts meant that my life was so unrealistically good.
But I could not help it.

I was feeling on the outside looking in this big bad world.

I fit, but way too much to drop out of it,

And not enough to be able to grasp what is missing.

WHAT is missing?

I don't know.

I have no fucking clue.

I was there, and I felt useless. Without an explanation for why I was here, for all of that. What is the purpose? There is none. Randomness, ludicrous odds that led to life, that led to me. And that are gonna lead me to nothingness.
I felt engulfed by the reality that I was not big enough to upset the laws of nature. I felt overwhelmed by the rules I have to abide by and that I will never be able to break.

I went back home, not feeling better. Just hoping for a better tomorrow.
I just wanted a better tomorrow.
I just wanted a sign that longing for the stars in that empty sky was not useless.


And the next day, when I woke up, 

It was snowing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FqQsZ8g8KHQ

"Tu sais jamais si tu dois dire 'tu' ou 'vous' "

I don't like the fact that people go.
But above all, I don't like the fact that I am not here to support, to protect my people in these dire times.
I'm away, and it kind of feels like I am being a coward. But I just can't go back yet. Physically, I can't. I can just hope that things are gonna get better.
And I truly believe they are.

Maybe not today
Maybe not tomorrow
But one day, it is gonna get better

So hang in there dad, because sooner than later
I'm coming back home.

And I'll be strong for good

It's time I had my say

Parce que ça va faire deux ans, et je crois que finallement, j'ai besoin de dire tout ce que j'ai jamais eu l'occasion de dire. J'ai envie d'exercer mon droit de parole, ma liberté d'expression; et surtout, de récupérer, rétroactivement, les droits qui m'ont été déniés, même de façon implicite.

Alors ce soir là quand je t'ai appellé, et que tu m'as donné la vérité que j'avais peur d'entendre, je l'admets aujourd'hui: j'étais soulagé. Soulagé de ne plus avoir à m'enfoncer encore plus profondément dans une défaite que je savais très bien inévitable. On vivait sur quelque chose qui marchait plus, on a essayé; plusieurs fois. Par habitude et par espoir, surtout par peur. J'avais peur de te perdre, et ça a contribué à tétaniser toutes mes tentatives pour nous sauver. Je t'aimais, mais oui, ça m'a fait du bien que tu reconnaisses qu'il y avait un problème.

Je me souviens de ton auto-persuasion, de ton mensonge permanent; selon lequel on vivait dans un conte de fées. Je suis pas totalement stupide. Je sais très bien que tu savais. Mais on était un couple; et aussi désagréable, insupportable, invivable que j'étais; c'était ton devoir de me parler. Parce que c'est ce que les gens font, parler. J'avais toujours été honnête avec toi, même dans les pires situations.
Je demandais pas grand chose en retour. Alors même si j'ai conscience que j'étais devenu un fardeau à gérer, j'avais droit à la vérité.

Parlons-en de ça d'ailleurs, du fait que j'étais devenu un être totalement mal dans ma peau, dénué de tout égo, marqué d'un sentiment d'insécurité constant et grandissant de jour en jour. Parce que ça, c'est aussi ta création. Quand tu refuses que ton copain t'embrasse, t'approche pendant des semaines, pendant des mois; quand tu as ce regard repoussant en le regardant, tu penses que ça aide à guérir les blessures? Tu penses que ça m'a aidé à garder espoir? A essayer plus fort? Et au moment où tu m'as annoncé que tu n'étais, et ne serais, je cite, "plus jamais" heureuse avec moi; tu penses que tu as laissé les bases les plus simples en me  poussant à te quitter? Tu crois que c'était juste de me demander à moi le droit de te laisser partir? De me demander de te pousser vers la sortie? De m'obliger à faire le sale boulot? Parce que tu n'as même pas eu le courage de me dire clairement les choses, même pas de dire "c'est fini".

Et même pas eu le courage de me dire les choses en face? Tu as été capable, quelques heures avant, de me regarder dans les yeux et de me dire que tout allait bien en sachant pertinemment que nous c'était juste devenu le cadavre de nos jours heureux? Et bien que je sois aujourd'hui capable de dire que j'ai la tête hors de l'eau; qu-est ce que tu penses de la dernière image que tu m'as laissée?

Parce que quand je suis parti prendre le bus, et que la dernière chose que tu m'as dite était "je t'aime" avec un grand sourire; tu pensais que ça allait s'effacer? C'est encore là, c'est là chaque fois que j'essaie de me replonger dans les bons souvenirs; c'est le cancer qui putrifie tout et masque ce qui est important. C'est un traumatisme que mon cerveau ne peut pas gérer. Qui peut gérer ça? Si je fais confiance à mes sens, tu es toujours là, t'es jamais partie, et j'attends juste que tu m'appelles pour me dire de venir te voir jouer le weekend prochain. Comment, dis-moi, suis-je supposé passer outre ça?

Et ça, c'est que l'avant. Appeler mes parents, contacter ma famille, vraiment? Tu peux pas avoir de juste milieu Emma, tu pouvais pas faire ça; si tu décides de partir - et c'est un droit que, malgré le niveau de haine auquel j'ai pu succomber, je ne t'ai jamais dénié - alors tu fermes ta gueule et tu assumes. Tu décides de partir? Laisse moi en dehors de ça.

Après tout ça faisait des mois que je ne faisais plus partie de ta vie; alors enfin que j'ai été poussé vers la sortie, tu veux me faire replonger?

Et les mensonges à retardement, je peux en parler de ça? Le fait que je découvre des choses des mois après, des choses contre lesquelles j'avais eu des promesses, promesses que j'ai été assez stupide pour croire; comment je suis sensé croire quelqu'un maintenant? J'arrive plus à accorder la moindre confiance à qui que ce soit de nouveau dans ma vie. Je peux pas m'ouvrir, parce que je suis devenu quelque peu paranoïaque à l'idée que quelqu'un arrive, je ne sais comment, à me faire mal comme tu m'as fait mal. Je ne pense pas que ce soit possible, mais une fois encore, avant de te connaître; je ne pensais pas que ce serait possible d'avoir mal comme ça.

Tous les obstacles que j'ai du affronter à causes des erreurs que tu as faîtes et qui m'ont frappées à la gueule des jours, des semaines, parfois des mois après; tu as conscience qu'inconsciemment tu as crée ça?

Tu as conscience que tu as tué qui j'étais?

Après, comment j'ai pu t'aimer tout ce temps, et, je ne vais pas me mentir; comment une partie de moi peut encore avoir des sentiments pour toi; c'est une question à laquelle je n'aurai jamais de réponse.

Mais t'étais pas différente des autres Emma. T'es surement pas différente des autres. T'as pas pu changer autant que moi, parce que moi je t'ai pas laissé autant de fantômes et de poison pour te détruire. Et bien que ce soit vrai qu'on partage la faute et que j'ai ma part non négligeable de responsabilité dans cet épilogue, et que j'ai aujourd'hui conscience que des deux, je suis celui qui n'est objectivement pas compatible avec une relation sentimentale; j'aimerais dire aujourd'hui qu'au moment où tu as raccroché; un monde s'est écroulé pour qui j'étais. Et j'y repensais pas trop, j'y prêtais pas trop d'attention, y accordais pas trop d'importance.

Mais aujourd'hui, je ne suis plus le petit garçon que tu as connu, et quand je rejoue la scène, je peux te dire qu'il n'y a qu'un seul mot qui me vient à l'esprit. Et ce mot ne porte aucun jugement sur les moments fantastiques qu'on as eu ensemble, sur la tristesse et le bonheur qu'on a partagés ou sur la misère que tu m'as infligée. Il reflète juste ce que je ressens aujourd'hui vis à vis de qui tu as été cette nuit là, ce moment isolé dans le temps, dans ma vie; juste après être soulagé d'un fardeau trop imposant pour mes épaules à cette époque et juste avant d'être frappé par les conséquences psychologiques de ta décision.
En fait, il traduit juste mon besoin de caraactériser mes idées par le langage.
Et le sentiment de gâchis qui me suit depuis deux ans.


Salope.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uizQVriWp8M

Pinkish sky

I have not had a great week.
And it is hard to explain why, it is difficult to pinpoint exactly what went wrong and when. I guess it is my brain's way of telling me I am currently at a crossroads.

I have had night terrors three days in a row.

And last night it was about you.

I was over you, I AM actually; or so I thought. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just turn the page. And why does it feel like status quo deep inside? I have changed, I know that; you are not here anymore and it is totally fine. So why was this dream so vivid?
Why did it feel so real?
Why did it feel so right?
Why did I feel so right?

Why did I want you back? WHY for fucks sake would a part of me still be smitten with the ghost of who you were?
That's necrophilia.

You were beautiful, you were basically everything you used to be. You were there. We were.
We.
And that's not something I thought I would feel again in my life. And I did not, it was just a dream.
Just a fucking dream.

And I failed to end it. As I failed to end it back then when things were going south. And as I failed every step of the way. You are the only thing holding me back, after almost 2 years.

2 years, it's a long time. And yet it still hurts. It doesn't hurt the same.
But it hurts. It does. I can't deny that.
And whatever I do, it will still hurt.

But I knew that, I agreed to those terms and I stick with it, here is not the problem.

I just thought that one day, a girl would show up and would be able to wipe out everything. That she would reset everything, that she would design a new landscape; that she would redefine love. I just thought that as long as I was struggling to keep my head above the water, someone would eventually arrive and rescue me. Call it foolish, call it hopeful; I just thought that one day, another girl would have the power and the strength to light fire inside of me once again, to pick up those pieces and magically build something new with it, with what's left.
I just thought that she would come save me.

But I think I am finally coming to grips with the reality that this girl

She might not exist.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwAUca79c4o

I am Charlie

I feel like the world is losing.

Bullpen

Hey, it was my first date ever

And I didn't really take the wisest decisions. I mean, getting shitfaced the night before, sleeping 5 hours, in hindsight I might have to admit it was not the best idea. Sometimes I still act like I am 16. Or I finally act like I should have been acting when I was 16.
The date was good nevertheless, for me at least. I like her, I had a good time; and I was not expecting that much. I'm relieved. I'm pretty satisfied too.
Yet there was not enough to go to first base, but meh, I can live with that.

It was my first date ever, it was the first girl I actually wanted to see since Emma's been gone. Because I'm moving on, because I have to move on. Because I'm strong enough to get rid of that burden now.
But it is true that it still is a work in progress.

I don't really know if I wanna meet someone to live something again, to feel fully alive again or merely to prove a point. Do I miss these goosebumps, this adrenaline, all those dreams? Or do I just wanna show that in the end, I've moved on with my life too? I don't really know. It is true though that a tangible proof might reassure a lot of people. Not me, for I know pretty well where I'm at right now. Yet it would make it possible to draw the final temporal checkpoint, the most difficult one to accurately determine.

There is a line, and on this line are carved all the milestones. And the thing is, if I am asked to pinpoint the end of the road, I am not actually sure what I would say. Was it when I learned I had a shot at a second chance in life? Was it when I took the plane? When it took off? When it landed? Was it when I asked Chloé out just for her to knock me back? Was it when I asked my date out? Was it when we went out?
Has it yet to come?

This is not really a matter of what anymore, more a matter of when. This is not survival anymore, it is understanding when I fully got my life back, so that I know and so that I can stop rewriting and start filling up new pages. My life deserves it. I deserve it. I'm not asking for much.
I just want to move forward without looking back after every single achievement.


3 days after she dumped me, I vowed that I would never, ever try to love again. I swore I would rather die than breaking this promise.

Well I broke it, big deal eh?

I broke the last thing tying me to my past self. I'm sorry dude, you just didn't know. You didn't know how long it would hurt, you didn't know that you would eventually die and be replaced by someone else, inheriting everything you used to cherish and love except for one.
Her.
And that is exactly why I am stronger, better than who you were. Because I don't have to care about her anymore. I can focus on taking care of the people you loved and who loved you.
Not the one you loved for nothing.
I'm not making excuses; I don't give a fuck about your past resolutions.
I'm living this life now, and I will make sure that the things that really matter will get high priority.
And if I need to forget her for that, I wonder which motherfucke* is gonna prevent me from doing so.

And I guess a second date would help.


Especially if I can get out of the bullpen next time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6EBAnOp5H0