Summer Summer Fever

I am officially done with the last exam for the year, and have been putting my spare week to good use before I fly home next Wednesday. Sleep deprived, yes, but happy regardless. Had a lot of catching up with some friends, and we agreed on how quick time flies. We are done with the first year, and will come back from our respective Summer vacations as second year students. We also agreed upon partying the second year even harder since time flies so quickly.

I am juggling so many last minute things before I fly. People to meet, stuff to do, and above all what I want to do. I went out, danced, ran, stepped on dog poo, went to a sailing workshop, did a pub quiz, tried lacrosse, watched kickboxing student championship, went to a themepark with my gay best friend, read and laughed.

It's been good. Very good.

I guess no matter how rough your weeks have been, it all turns out for the best. As cliche as it may sounds, the phrase this too shall pass does have some truth to it.

I am currently very concerned about what to bring my friends and family. I havent bought anything yet, but I will try to find something tomorrow. I am thinking of buying everyone stroopwafels. An image flashed in my mind of the airport security scanning through my luggage and suddenly red lights started to light with that horrible police buzz. Next scene of me being handcuffed in front of the whole airport on the ground of smuggling national treasure, me screaming I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS IN MY LUGGAGE I SWEAR. A young security actually opened my luggage, took out a package of stroopwafels, opened it, took a sniff and looked back to the other officers, nodding gravely. Another officer screamed CHECK HER ASS SHES TOTALLY SMUGGLING SOME MORE THERE.

Right.

Say what you need to say

Tamara Tempura, my little evil niece :-*

I am getting tired of this game. Every human contact seemed somehow like a battlefield, idle on your war strategies and you are worse than skrewed. We are bombarded by social norms, of how things should be. For some reason we ended up with this idea to be the one with the power in a relationship.

And I'm not just talking about romantic relationship. Even some friendships are exhausting to me. To somehow get the balance of "I like you and I really want to spend time with you" and "I have another life so I am not going to spend my 24/7 with you". You have this mindset that you will not let yourself to be outweighed by the first one: to be needy. Because, you know, it's not cool to be needy.

Before you know it, you are too focused on not being needy. Pride preservation ultimately drives you and your friend away, because both find it crucial to have another life.

I am getting tired of it.

I think life is complicated enough without us having to complicate it some more. It seems to me like my brain is constantly conspiring to complicate everything. Take something and magnify it using a NASA telescope, and turn an incredibly dumb look whenever someone brings it up.

What is this false accusation you are making? I do no such magnifying.

But I do. And as hard as it is for me to take it in, there will be no advancement from this point. So here I am trying to simplify things now. It should be more "Yes" or "No" depending on your utility, but no "But" or "If only". It is what it is and the faster you take on that, the faster we can move on.

When you like someone, it is OK to be vulnerable. Take off your battle shields and just go and say what you want to say. After all, why do we care so much about what the other person will think? If it works, then great. If it doesnt, now you know better. You cant win it all, and you've got nothing to lose.

Be strong. Even if only for the time being.

It's happening again. No mater how hard you try to be strong, no matter how hard you tell yourself that it does not matter and you are stronger than it you always find yourself broken. Again, and again.

When you cant be by yourself because your thoughts are suffocating yourself. When it feels like someone is gripping your heart and wont let it go no matter how you plead. When you feel so scared, vulnerable and alone. When you know that you have to save yourself from none other than yourself.

Why is it happening again. I thought we made our peace, I asked myself.

I thought we are stronger than this.

Apparently not. Certain things just linger, no matter how hard you tell yourself that they dont matter. Not to the new you. That you are better than this.

But yet again you fall, again and again.

You thought you moved on, you made peace with your fall and decided that it has only made you stronger. Each time, you try to pick up the pieces and use stronger glue to make it lasts longer. But again and again you fell for the same mistakes. Why cant you learn?

Why wont the knowledge stick?

Why are my demons always the same, no matter how many times I thought I killed it. I guess I am not that strong, that I can only supress it until the next fall.

How I wish for them to never visit me again.

That hole on my knee

Awesome news: my knee is healing! It still looks like Frankenstein, true, but at least I no longer walk like the tin man. I know, I watched too much TV ever since I was on couch arrest. I felt like I was rooting into my combined couches after 1.5 weeks. So this weekend I made a radical decision of separating my couches to start fresh.

I think the worst part is that I was wallowing in self pity and resentment. Resentment from being helpless, from unable to do things I took for granted such go running in a sunny day, lounge on the lake with my novel, go out and wear heels, biking or eating something other than crap Dutch microwave food.

The funny part is that slowly fades away, shifting from anger to acceptance. To accept that theres a black circle, a hole on my previously smooth knee. To realize and accept that life is not smooth and perfect. There are scars, there will be scars. And better learn that now than later I suppose.

I also proved something about me to myself and the doctors: I am the worst patient ever. When I had my stitches, I had to squeeze the nurse's hand so hard to endure the pain. Not to mention the crying, cursing and funny enough, laughing. Even with broken fingers, the nurse managed to laugh at me. She said she wish she will never be present when I give birth. When she saw the blood draining from my face, she laughed and told me she was joking. She later messed my hair and said: "it's OK, you still have a couple of years before permanently damaging the life of your midwife."

What I also find amazing is how the words "at least its not" somehow makes me feel slightly better. At least its only temporary. At least its not infected. At least you still have your leg. At least youre still alive. I was still in my anger phase when my friend told this to me. And I told him that it's easy for him to say since he's not the one with the stitches.

Then another friend started talking to me about her problem, and for some reason I told her at least you dont have stitches on your knee.

So yes, there will be a scar on my knee. And from the look of it, a pretty deep one. I put up a RIP sign for my smooth legs, paid my last respect and brought pretty flowers. But at the moment I am just happy that I can walk. And a story to tell later.