I was always a nostalgic person and I love thinking about the past, about the good ol’ days which is probably where this whole column comes from. Why does the past normally feel better to me than the present? This story is one that I hold really close, one that I still cherish despite its very weird ending and once again, I’m pretty glad that I set my rule of trying to not have a casual thing with boys that are involved in my group of friends.
So after my breakup, I got used to freedom and I bloody loved every second of life. I found me, I found my spark and I had the best time ever. I still class Autumn 2011 as one of the best times in my little life. So much laughter, I went out a lot and my friendships with certain people grew stronger than ever. Since I was so happy with life, I also loved being with m family loads more and we were closer than ever. It was an autumn break and after a glitter and confetti filled concert, my dad, sister and I were off to a flea market in central Berlin.
It was sunny and beautiful but still crisp autumn. October 3rd. I know that it was October 3rd because it was the anniversary day with my ex. Guess what, he called me whilst I was happily sitting in the car with my family begging me to meet up. Really girls and boys, brace yourself for the awkward calls. I didn’t meet up with him as I had planned to meet up with a guy I recently met. In this column, you might find that I usually don’t really remember how I met people. Especially because I always liked online dating and I don’t really bother how I met people as I never had a super cute and sickly cheesy story to tell. They are usually boring. Also, I usually don’t use the word date. I find the classic dates where you get a drink, go for a meal or to the movies to be the worst thing ever and I never ever had a first “date” like that. It’s almost as bad as the breakfast of shame. So the guy I met suggested sitting by the river spree in Berlin and just chat and that’s what we did. One thing that really attracts me is someone’s voice and I still remember his so well. It was very soft but also strong and he was probably the smartest guy I ever met which is also something that I just adore. This very October 3rd was spent enjoying the sun by the river, chatting, laughing and eventually kissing. I still remember how he pulled me closer as we walked over to Bellevue train station and how he was holding me so tight as we waited for the train. I think it was how gentle and sweet he was towards me that made me feel really comfortable and yet I still wonder why I didn’t fall for him. Maybe because I knew it wouldn’t work out.
But we just clicked and I always felt like he treated me like a piece of gold. I stayed with him the following night and there was never anything weird or anything I didn’t like. Probably because it takes quite a lot to make me feel annoyed. As long as you let me be and never hold me down I’m good and I didn’t bother how he lived his life as long as he treated me with respect which was exactly what he did. What he spent a good chunk of his life with was smoking weed. Loads of it loads of times. Also whilst we sat between the messy white sheets and just talked. He also always made sure I never met his parents with was okay for me as it was nothing serious but he always said he didn’t want me to meet them because he respected me too much.
It was a cold and rainy autumn evening and as I stepped out of the train station where he lived. He always was so casually loving when we saw each other so I hugged me tight and kissed me and told me that he was very happy to see me. I sat on his bed in this massive room. The flat he lived in is still one of the most impressive flats I have ever seen in my life and I was just chatting away like I always did since he was so smart that I was truly able to discuss things with him when he walked over to his bedroom window smoking a bong head. Something he did a lot but I didn’t mind at all so I talked away but suddenly stopped when he turned back around into the room. He looked like a ghost and pretty much made clear that his mum who wasn’t aware of him consuming drugs in his room at his parent’s house saw him. Before he even finishes the sentence I was out of the bed, gathering my belongings and getting ready to leave whilst he tried to make clear that he didn’t want me to be seen or involved. You could hear every step is mum did in the hallway, two flights of stairs upwards. His room was right by the front door so he was slightly going insane whilst I just wanted to leave and let him deal with that on his own. The closer the steps got to the flat, the more the room was filled with his anxiety. “Hide in my closet” was what he said as the steps came dangerously close and I just laughed. There’s no way I would hide in anyone’s closet like the affair or cheat. Not in a million years. I could feel his heart sinking when his mother very loudly smashed the flat door open, I was ready to leave, he was freaking out and I had no idea what I would do if she would have come straight in. As her loud steps went passed his room door and joined a loud discussion with a man who obviously was his dad, I felt his heart beating again but faster with panic. It was my call to leave and I was gone in a split second, wrapping my big wool scarf around me as I stepped down the stairs his mother was just walking up in anger. I still don’t know what happened, not at all.
One thing that never changed was how wonderfully sweet he was and yet he was so weird and I truly haven’t met anyone like him. He was so perfectly unstable and unreliable and there was nothing such as pressure. Sometimes we didn’t even talk for months and months and then a conversation would spark up again and we hung out. He called me his lucky charm and just let me be as much as I let him be. I sometimes think he was quite dramatic. The last time I saw him was a warm summers night, it was pouring with rain and when I left he hugged me so tight, just like he did when we first met and kissed and his last words he ever said to my face were: “I hope you keep me in good memory”. He stared my right into my eyes when he said it and it seemed like his eyes were even more blue than usual. That was him. That was him gone. The last time he texted me was about a week after I saw him last, inviting me to come over since he broke up with his girlfriend…I had no idea there even was one so I never went back to his and never saw him again. Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I saw him again. For some reason, I hold this story really close to my heart because he was like no other man and at the same time he was, especially when it comes to how it ended. One lesson I learned was just to let people be. It’s easier.
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