I was only fourteen when I met this guy. At first he did not interest me much although I saw him nearly every week. It took me two years to find out that this guy has a heart made of kindness, goodness and selfless.

I don’t know if he was really interested in me, I think we thought the same way. I wasn’t even his type of girl.

We had absolute nothing in common except one single thing: we liked each other more than we liked ourselves. We spent twelve years together because we were the best friends.

We did not have the kind of relationship a couple has. We didn’t even spend much time together. But he has always been there for me and we even shared the bathroom when one of us was sitting on the toilet. There was nothing we couldn’t talk about and the thing I treasured most was that I could be myself, without thinking, just being me. I can’t describe you this feeling, this feeling that absolutely no matter what you do, there is someone standing behind you and fighting for you. Even if he wasn’t the same opinion, he always supported me and he was always proud of the things I did achieve. Funny, because I never achieved much and he was so proud of me that I felt like I have moved mountains.  I did love him with all of myself.

I aways thought that I would know him. I would know everything of him. If someone would have told me that this relationship would not last forever, I would not have believed him. I always wanted this kind of relationship where people are saying: Oh woooow, look, they are still together! And by counting the days, I did spend nearly half of my whole life with him.

We had everything, a pretty house, two wonderful cats, a pretty big garden and wonderful common friends. But most of all, we had each other filling the big house with joy and laughter. Oh damn, we laughed a lot…

But like Forrest Gump said:


Now there’s nothing left but memories. I lost everything else. And as this would not be enough, one of my little cats died.

I don’t know why I am thinking of all this today. Perhaps I am drunk and if you are drunk, you start to be honest like a little child. I don’t like kids at all, but I do like honesty.

And to be honest I am always afraid of losing what I have. To others, this doesn’t seem to be much, but for me these little steps are the things that were hard work to get up again. To reparticipate to life.

I bought a small flat built in the 70ies. For other people the old kitchen might be frumpy and old-fashioned. The bathroom is in nasty green and it is rather a block of flats than a pretty house. But for me this is one of the first steps to a new beginning in my own little castle.

I met a new guy I wanna grow old with. He is some kind of special, and his lovely eyes are showing me a good heart. That’s why I fell in love with him although I never thought that I could have such a feeling again.

But experiences did leave it’s mark on and I can’t suppress the fear of losing all this again. We are so different. He is courageous, strong and very ambitious. He does things like jumping out of a plane and life seems like a simple game for him. I admire him like a stalker does. He isn’t fixed to any place and feels home everywhere where’s beauty.

Me instead,… well I’m me. I never thought like this, but on his side I always feel like a slowpoke and I am always scared to loose him because of this.

I am always afraid of investing all my feelings just to recognize that it was for nothing. I want to beware myself from one day looking at him after many years of love, passion and trust just to feel like I do by looking at my first love now:

Feeling at home and feeling like strangers at the same time, recognizing that I do not know him at all and perhaps I never really did. Looking into the eyes of an illusion.

I am drunk, good night.

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