Some things just happen when you quit planning them.
I’ve always been one of those planning freaks, I confess. There was not a single date that I didn’t plan ahead, thinking of every detail, every word, every move. Turns out, when the day came, it couldn’t be further from my plan, and I just felt so bad, because I was never able to achieve what I’ve dreamt.
My last birthday – three days ago – was just like that. I’ve planned it all, and I there was not even one match with my plan.
This year, I kept it simple, exactly for being aware of the enormous differences between reality and my very own utopia. I arranged a small dinner, with my best friends – they weren’t allowed to come. I ended up having lunch with my parents, at the mall and having dinner at home, just like every other day. And in the last few hours of the day, I’ve been talking with my best friend from college.
The dinner with my two friends on saturday became a lunch, yesterday. And yes, it was nice.
It’s been a while since the last time they’ve been in my house. They were only here for a few hours, but now, I always feel like they’ll just appear in my room, or leave the balcony. Now, I’ve got that thing of looking outside, to the balcony where they’ve been yesterday, because it’s like they’re still there. It’s a cosy feeling, and I just adore it.
Nevertheless, in a few moments, there was that weird, uncomfortable silence between me and one of my friends [I guess we can call him B]. It’s so different when we go out alone, without his sister – my best friend [let’s call her D, shall we?!]. Sometimes, when we’re together – the three of us – it seems like there’s an insurmountable barrier between me and B, an entire ocean of things we actually wanted to say to each other, but we can’t, since we’re not alone.
It’s so disturbing. And then comes the time when they go home, and I watch them leave. That’s the very moment when I feel an immense emptiness, as if I was loosing a part of myself.
I often feel like those women whose beloved ones left in a ship, with a one-way ticket, just like I said in Life as a Movie; Penelope as the Main Character.
When he is leaving, sometimes I try not to stare, since, once in a while, I feel like I’d just lose my mind, follow him, and never let him go again. Most of the times, I actually look, though – I just can’t avoid. And with each step he takes, the sense of emptiness increases.
Sometimes I wish it could be just a little bit simpler, and that we could spend more time together, philosophizing, deeply talking about ourselves and our very own ways of observing the world. I wish I didn’t have to stare at him without a word, when the entire world is around us.
I wish we were together in rainy days, just like we did before, walking under my umbrella, since that allowed us to create a brand new and personal world that was just ours, and share moments that felt like a wonderful lifetime.
I wish I could hold him, and never feel like Penelope again. It’s a quite tiring feeling, after all.