The year finally starts to come together. This post takes me to the end of the summer and the last one will sum up the end of the year. Check out pt. I and pt. II too.
The day after the kissing had taken place was all weird. We both acted as if nothing happened yet there would be the odd secret caress under the table. The next night after everyone else was asleep I tried to wake Mr. Prog up, but my efforts were in vain. And then, the next day we went home. As I dropped the boy off he placed a kiss on my forehead that sent tingles down my spine. But still, we would not talk about what had happened.
The following week was all back to normal. We would chat the way we used to and it really was as if nothing was going on between us two but mere platonic friendship. He had a summer job in Helsinki, so we didn't even know when we’d next see each other. Eventually, about a week and a half after Midsummer, I got invited to a restaurant opening in Helsinki and asked if maybe the boy would like to see me after.
We met up and it was slightly awkward. He'd ask when I'd be going back and I was dodging the questions and we'd try to decide what to do but neither of us would have any real suggestions. Eventually I asked him if he'd like to kiss me. And he did. Once we got all the awkwardness out of the way we walked over to his place and instead of the late train home I would get the early train the next day.
Once we got to his place I sat myself on the sofa and he went to put on some music. Now let me once again take you back to the night of Pink Floyd and tears. YES. He put on the same bloody record. Now, obviously I didn't say anything - don’t think it would've been a good conversation starter to go ‘Oh! the last time I listened to this was when I broke up with my previous boyfriend!’ Pretty soon the record started skipping though, and he put on something completely different.
From then on the summer went by in a flash. Although we still managed to spend a lot of awesome days, nights, weekends together. He’d work from home (ie. my place) every now and then, I’d stay with him when I had my luxurious week long holiday and whenever I could come up with a good excuse to go visit him I would.
We spoke a lot and slept little. Often when he was at my end of the world we’d sit in the garden swing until the early hours and talk. A lot of the times we’d talk about my previous relationship. For that, I will forever be grateful to him. Out of everyone I spoke to about the relationship and the end of it he was the most objective about it all. He wouldn't put blame on anyone and he would just let me talk about it all. It was seriously important for me to get it all out. He didn't comment on things much and when he did he was very diplomatic and wouldn't take any sides. He listened and that was the best thing anyone could do. I am rambling but I really do think he was being super awesome.
When we started dating I was very nervous that it was all too soon and he had similar feelings. I can only speak for myself but I feel that the "therapy sessions" we had in that swing laid a superb foundation for our relationship. With all the talking I got everything out of my system and we were able to leave the ghost of the past relationship behind.
Saturday 6 October 2012
Friday 5 October 2012
A year in Review - 2011, pt. II
This post is stupidly long, but if I don’t get up to Midsummer with this, the following ones will be even longer.
Carrying on from the tears and Pink Floyd, I left London the following afternoon. The boy escorted me to Paddington where I caught my train and despite the goodbyes having always been hard there in the past, this time it felt even worse. Still, there was this feeling of finality and closure that made it more of a bittersweet endeavour.
Once I got back, my feelings were on a crazy roller coaster ride. I’d cry out loud hopelessly in the evenings, felt betrayed and angry and the next day I was relieved and happy to be free. A lot of the time I found myself feeling guilty of not being sad enough. And then went on to being angry at ‘that guy who just wasted 5 years of my life’. Which is obviously not the case. But you can’t escape the feeling until you feel well enough to carry on and look at things with a bit more objectivity. For the record, I do not think that I wasted 5 years of my life. In fact, I think the relationship taught me a lot of things. In addition it coincided with the years of becoming an adult (whatever that means) and I’m grateful he was there for support and friendship. Had he not been there, I might have made different decisions but I also would have been poorer of countless of experiences. I am happy for the time we had together as a couple and look forward to being friends for many more years to come.
Now, enough with that.
Back in Finland times were BUSY. Work was crazy with organising things for the summer - I’d come to the office early and leave late. At the same time as I was still recovering from the break up and felt increasingly claustrophobic in my flat. Spending time there alone meant spending time alone with my thoughts - which often weren't the most positive ones. So, as the nights grew longer and warmer, I stayed out more pestering friends to come out for pints. It wasn't all just drinking. I took my bike out for the first time in a couple of years and went cycling quite often and quite far. Sometimes I would just grab a book and sit in the garden swing or on the river bank, bathe in the evening sun and read. Life started feeling awesome again. And there was no one there telling me what to do. In hindsight, the period of May-July 2011 was a time for learning to like myself again and finding my own two feet to stand on.
As I spent more time out, I also came to spend more time with people I hadn't seen that often before. For obvious reasons the same people would not be able to sit in a bar with me every night, so I had to look for new people to hang out with. Sometimes the evenings would end up in a pretty strange mix of friends of friends. One particular night ended in small flat watching the Colour of Money. Another evening took me from congratulating an ex-boyfriend for becoming a father to a pub quiz where I teamed up with a priest from my old congregation, and took me through various pubs but not that many drinks and via a bench by the river to the sofa of a friend.
Through various outings I became rather friendly with this boy, who I’d been friends with before but it had been that weird sort of ‘he’s a friend of a friend and sometimes we chat on facebook when no one else is around’ relationship. We started spending more and more time together, even though he moved to another city for the summer. I felt we got closer and I sort of fancied him more and more. The me fancying him had been going on for quite a while really. Let me take you back to the night of Pink Floyd and tears:
Yeah, the Transatlantic dude. But even though we grew closer as friends, he kept his distance. And there was this heartbreaking moment when a girl he fancied (or allegedly used to fancy) showed up in a club we were in. I had never seen him get that excited and happy about anything or anyone before. However, I soon forgot the heartbreak as a couple of days later we spent the day together browsing flea markets. I was very happy to have made a new friend.
Next stop: Midsummer. I was pretty excited about going to spend Midsummer at a friend’s cottage by a lake. It was my first long weekend for ages, the weather was going to be nice and there’d be many good friends there. Sadly, despite my best efforts I couldn't manage to convince the above mentioned Transatlantic dude to come along, despite him being a part of that particular group of friends going. However, the day before leaving for the cottage I was driving home from my parents when my phone rang. It was the boy, asking if there was still a spare seat for him in the car. So he came along too, ace! This was going to be the best Midsummer ever!
We celebrated Midsummer the traditional way. Sun, summery dresses, caps, schnapps, other drinks, barbecue, rowing, sauna... the list goes on. Needless to say we were all very much under the influence of alcohol and very merry. Some of us (Mr. Prog) ended up going to bed very early due to the amount of liquid refreshments consumed and some of us (yours truly) stayed up very late playing games and having fun.
At some point, after we’d all gone to bed, we woke up. Apparently I had been annoying and chatted some nonsense, but I only remember us laughing. There were three of us on the floor side by side and two more on a sofa bed right next to us. This chatting didn't go on for long though and soon we all drifted back to sleep. Except for Mr. Prog and I. There was coyness and child-like poking about and it didn't take long for the kissing to start.
Carrying on from the tears and Pink Floyd, I left London the following afternoon. The boy escorted me to Paddington where I caught my train and despite the goodbyes having always been hard there in the past, this time it felt even worse. Still, there was this feeling of finality and closure that made it more of a bittersweet endeavour.
Once I got back, my feelings were on a crazy roller coaster ride. I’d cry out loud hopelessly in the evenings, felt betrayed and angry and the next day I was relieved and happy to be free. A lot of the time I found myself feeling guilty of not being sad enough. And then went on to being angry at ‘that guy who just wasted 5 years of my life’. Which is obviously not the case. But you can’t escape the feeling until you feel well enough to carry on and look at things with a bit more objectivity. For the record, I do not think that I wasted 5 years of my life. In fact, I think the relationship taught me a lot of things. In addition it coincided with the years of becoming an adult (whatever that means) and I’m grateful he was there for support and friendship. Had he not been there, I might have made different decisions but I also would have been poorer of countless of experiences. I am happy for the time we had together as a couple and look forward to being friends for many more years to come.
Now, enough with that.
Back in Finland times were BUSY. Work was crazy with organising things for the summer - I’d come to the office early and leave late. At the same time as I was still recovering from the break up and felt increasingly claustrophobic in my flat. Spending time there alone meant spending time alone with my thoughts - which often weren't the most positive ones. So, as the nights grew longer and warmer, I stayed out more pestering friends to come out for pints. It wasn't all just drinking. I took my bike out for the first time in a couple of years and went cycling quite often and quite far. Sometimes I would just grab a book and sit in the garden swing or on the river bank, bathe in the evening sun and read. Life started feeling awesome again. And there was no one there telling me what to do. In hindsight, the period of May-July 2011 was a time for learning to like myself again and finding my own two feet to stand on.
As I spent more time out, I also came to spend more time with people I hadn't seen that often before. For obvious reasons the same people would not be able to sit in a bar with me every night, so I had to look for new people to hang out with. Sometimes the evenings would end up in a pretty strange mix of friends of friends. One particular night ended in small flat watching the Colour of Money. Another evening took me from congratulating an ex-boyfriend for becoming a father to a pub quiz where I teamed up with a priest from my old congregation, and took me through various pubs but not that many drinks and via a bench by the river to the sofa of a friend.
Through various outings I became rather friendly with this boy, who I’d been friends with before but it had been that weird sort of ‘he’s a friend of a friend and sometimes we chat on facebook when no one else is around’ relationship. We started spending more and more time together, even though he moved to another city for the summer. I felt we got closer and I sort of fancied him more and more. The me fancying him had been going on for quite a while really. Let me take you back to the night of Pink Floyd and tears:
Once I got my act together, pretty soon after asking about the planned playlist (see pt. I), I had a confession to make. ‘There IS this one guy I’ve sort of fancied lately.’ ‘Oh really? Who’s this?’ he asked. ‘The prog guy - the one who visited that one time when I was here too.’ ‘Oh the Transatlantic dude?!’
Yeah, the Transatlantic dude. But even though we grew closer as friends, he kept his distance. And there was this heartbreaking moment when a girl he fancied (or allegedly used to fancy) showed up in a club we were in. I had never seen him get that excited and happy about anything or anyone before. However, I soon forgot the heartbreak as a couple of days later we spent the day together browsing flea markets. I was very happy to have made a new friend.
Next stop: Midsummer. I was pretty excited about going to spend Midsummer at a friend’s cottage by a lake. It was my first long weekend for ages, the weather was going to be nice and there’d be many good friends there. Sadly, despite my best efforts I couldn't manage to convince the above mentioned Transatlantic dude to come along, despite him being a part of that particular group of friends going. However, the day before leaving for the cottage I was driving home from my parents when my phone rang. It was the boy, asking if there was still a spare seat for him in the car. So he came along too, ace! This was going to be the best Midsummer ever!
We celebrated Midsummer the traditional way. Sun, summery dresses, caps, schnapps, other drinks, barbecue, rowing, sauna... the list goes on. Needless to say we were all very much under the influence of alcohol and very merry. Some of us (Mr. Prog) ended up going to bed very early due to the amount of liquid refreshments consumed and some of us (yours truly) stayed up very late playing games and having fun.
At some point, after we’d all gone to bed, we woke up. Apparently I had been annoying and chatted some nonsense, but I only remember us laughing. There were three of us on the floor side by side and two more on a sofa bed right next to us. This chatting didn't go on for long though and soon we all drifted back to sleep. Except for Mr. Prog and I. There was coyness and child-like poking about and it didn't take long for the kissing to start.
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