captain of my soul

@captainofmysoul

Secret blog of a shy german film student and cinephile.

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Forgive me, Hera I cannot stay

Laura Marling - What He Wrote
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rm3uMGfIj2E

Date six. Part two.

So for the first time in my entire life I had spent a night cuddling with a half naked and really hot woman. We woke up, took a shower - separately of course, she asked me for fresh panties in case I had something other than boxers. I only have boxers. She complained that I don’t even have conditioner in my bathroom. I didn’t dare to ask what conditioner is. We spent some more time in bed, watching youtube, cuddling in weird positions. I think at some point she sat on top of me and I was astonished by how heavy she felt on my back. Not to say that she was out of shape. She wasn’t. She was perfect. For the longest time she had one leg stretched over my back. She also bit me in the arm once or twice. I think that was quite sexually charged for her. Biting. But it absolutely wasn’t for me, I was just extremely confused by it, asked her if I should bite back, didn’t get a clear response and decided to just better not …

I remember her telling me “No.” at some point, while making a very serious face. I was so confused, what she was even talking about. It took me like five minutes to figure out that I had sort of unconsciously started humping her. I didn’t really think about it whatsoever, but I guess the humping had taken a direction towards her pants. It’s weird when you catch your body doing stuff that you never wanted it to do. Especially when nobody is going to believe you. Anyway, it wasn’t a big deal. In retrospect I just wished I had apologised about it. But I didn’t. Because bringing that up five minutes after it happened would have probably seemed extremely awkward.

Eventually we left my home to catch her train. We got some coffee on the way, she put on some funny podcast and gave me one of her ear pieces. The thing is, my hearing isn’t the best, it’s actually a horrible problem in my entire family. So when I have in-ear headphones on, I can’t really hear what somebody is saying even one meter away from me, so I would never understand her over the podcast. Also the headphones just kept falling out of my ear all the time. Until suddenly - she pulled me in and took my hand and didn’t let go. Another completely new experience for me. To walk hand in hand through town. Everything changed after that. Suddenly we belonged together, I immediately felt like people looked at us differently, like they thought we were a couple. And that idea made me so happy.
We got some more food, I still didn’t really felt like eating - remember, the two bottles of wine I had the day before? So I just watched her. I even stayed on the train for a few stops before leaving her. I remember awkwardly hugging her while she gave me a kiss on the forehead. That day was probably the happiest of my entire year. I think if I had to name a day where I fell in love with her, this must have been it. But considering what I thought had just happened between us, I wouldn’t see her again for a very, very long time.

I’m still pondering whether I should write her. And when. And what.
A few days ago I almost just sent her a message on WhatsApp and only didn’t because I had deleted all her contact information, just for weak moments like this. I don’t really do stupid shit when I get drunk. I’m also usually not alone when I get drunk, so I’m not really scared of that happening. It’s more that sometimes I forget the bigger picture, the grand vision or in this case the last seven months and how they made me feel. Sometimes I dream that she’s going to just suddenly appear right on my doorstep. Or that I come home from work and she’s just lying there, back in my bed, like time had stopped. Like nothing ever happened. What the fuck even happened? One of the reasons why all of this is taking me so long to write is, that I still don’t really understand it. I don’t really know how we ended up where we ended up. And I probably never will.
Right now my plan is to handwrite her a nice goodbye letter on Christmas. Nothing accusatory, no desperate love letter, no invitation to talk. Just a honest and heartfelt goodbye. I already revised and rewrote the text for the letter like five times and will continue to do so until I’m satisfied. I also want to finish telling this story on this blog before sending off the letter. I think that will help me to focus. Give me closure.

Confronting trauma one blogpost at a time.

Date six. Part one.

Quite frankly. The greatest date I ever had. The high point. Peak Dating. Ten out of ten possible hearts. I’m serious!
But the funny thing is, it started very passive aggressive.

I was late. About 10-15 minutes late, mostly because I had overestimated how long it would take her to get to the park. When I finally arrived she immediately asked me for fire - fuckin’ smokers - and when I could not provide, she immediately sent me on a quest for lighters to the local kiosk. Once I got there, they didn’t have lighters, so I continued on my journey but could only find closed stores. It was late Saturday already. So the hunter returned empty handed and found his female had now gotten hungry as well. So off I went again. Venturing forth for about half an hour to the next supermarket, buying fruits, pastry and lighters. All this time she sat in the park, reading a book while nervously licking her unlit cigarettes.
Finally I returned. I half expected her to have already asked a group of loud and smelly teenagers next to us for fire, which would have been just the greatest. To send me away for no reason after all. But she didn’t. Still. I was at this point slightly annoyed. But I probably deserved that for showing up late, I guess.

Finally back with her I just lied down on the grass. It was a beautiful summer eventing, the slight breeze was warm and gentle. We opened the first bottle of Rosé she had asked me to bring, we smoked some weed - though at this point I wasn’t as enthusiastic about trying that again, we watched youtube, we laughed, I felt accepted by her. Eventually it had gotten dark and enough people had left the park for us to move to the stream that meanded its way through the park. We originally planned to go skinny dipping, but then decided to keep on our underwear after-all. Still too many people around. We jumped in, the current was strong and really fucking cold. We must have giggled like little children. She looked beautiful in her underwear.

Of course I was the only one who had brought a towel, so naturally she got to use it, while I had to dry by myself. Lying there we could see the stars, she remarked on how fast they were moving and I had to point out that that’s just an airplane. That weird herb. I never before had that feeling. Just lying there, listening to the stream go by, hearing the muffled voices of happy people in the park all around us, feeling the wind gently cooling my wet skin, knowing that she was next to me, only with me, even just for that one little moment. I felt calm and happy and satisfied. This day was already perfect. What else could I possibly still ask for.

It was at this point too late for her to catch the last train back, so she was going to stay the night at my place. But first. We decided to order pizza! We ordered at the closest Dominos and started to walk there my foot, me still soaking wet. We randomly decided to switch to english for a bit, we did lot’s of funny accents, for once a thing I can shine at. She turned out to have the most adorable accent I ever could have imagined and I was surprised to learn how insecure she was about it. We picked up the pizza with the third bottle of wine and spontaneously decided to take a taxi back to my place, which my money was literally just enough for. Officially broke but finally back home, we ate the pizza in the garden, more or less careful not to wake up my family, she smoked one last cigarette and then went to my bedroom.
One thing you have to understand is that at that time, not only was I still a virgin, but I also had never even spent a night cuddling with, well … anybody … really. So in theory I should have been terribly excited. But I wasn’t. I was calm, happy and wasn’t expecting anything. Even if nothing would happen, this would have already been a beautiful day. I was completely satisfied just having spent time with her. (I still made sure to quickly wash my dick in the bathroom. Just in case:) I was also drunk and slowly getting tired.

In bed she immediately asked me to massage her. She even showed me how she liked it, she kept calling it “streicheln”, which is german for “to pet” somebody. A word more suitable to describe caressing a pet cat. First I only touched her back through her shirt, later she removed bra and shirt. A few minutes later she asked me to pet her legs, I helped her slowly remove her trousers. Somehow I still remember that as one of the most sexual things I’ve ever done. While I kept touching her, I kept wanting to touch her cute butt, but I never summoned up the courage. Today I would just ask her if I could. For some reason I kept drinking a lot of water and wine until I had reached my limit. I guess I finally ended up being kind of nervous after all. I drank at least two bottles of wine that day. Lesson learned. I didn’t puke, but I started to feel a bit sick and had to lay down next to her. Eventually she took my arm and pulled me in to spoon her. I had never before been so physically close to anybody. It was the most intimate I had ever been with anybody. Throughout the entire night I had a raging boner, which she must have noticed, but ignored. I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, because I drunken too much and had to go to the toilet a lot, but also because I wasn’t used to somebody else inside my bed at all. It was completely new territory. I remember us lying face to face at one point, me hugging her, her head close to mine, just looking at each other for a second. It was lovely. We slept well into the next day and I had a horrible hangover. Not the headache kind, just the upset stomach kind. I was still dirty from lying in the grass so I took a shower. When I returned to bed she was still sleeping, but cuddling again felt too much for me at that point, suddenly it was all just a bit too much. So I sat down next to her for a while, trying to read a book, from time to time just looking at her. Happy.
In retrospect I should have told her all of this. All of my feelings and emotions. I think she misunderstood my shyness and emotional overload for not being interested. But I think we wrote about it later and for once I could set things straight. Eventually she went for a shower too, but our date still wasn’t over.

I walked around my home town today and decided to specifically visit some places I had spent time with her. Places that had memories attached. Many of these now hurtful memories. I tried to go there just to find out how it would make me feel. But also to reclaim my town. Maybe she broke my heart. But she’s not going to make me hate my home town.
I was quite going there, that it would open all those wounds all over again and I almost didn’t take the trip. But now I am glad that I did. Some places hurt more than others. Some felt fine. Some I couldn’t find again. The most important thing is that I confronted my fears, may they be as ridiculous as they might sound to you. If I can survive this, I might survive whatever comes next.

My second weed experience. And other disappointments.

I had a busy week and yet I’ve still been thinking. I didn’t really feel like writing late in the evening even though I would have had the time. It would have only made me depressed.
I started retelling this story as a way to find a new perspective. To answer some questions I’ve been asking myself for so long already. But recently I’ve been second guessing this idea. Why should I continue to linger on old and hurtful memories? Can’t I just finally try to forget? Why should I continue torture myself?
I guess my answer to that is simple. I don’t think I ever will forget. … Sure. Memories will start to fade. I already struggle to put our seven dates in the correct order sometimes. A year from now I will have forgot what might have been said on those days. In five years it will have all blurred into one unified experience. But the emotion is too strong to leave me forever. This has been a way too integral part of my emotional life. This will stay.
So I might as well try to backup this correctly to my long term emotional brain storage. I will not run away from my complex problems and difficult feelings. I will try to process them. I will try to be a grown up. Try to save myself therapy five years from now. xD As if that’s how it works:)

Date five.

This one was mediocre. And yet, it started with the second weed experience I ever had. She’s a more or less regular smoker and we had often talked about how I had only tried it once and it never really showed a significant effect. So she had promised to bring some next time we see each other so I could try again.
So, its a warm summer day, we meet in a big local park in my home town, sit down in a wide field, lots of people all around us, yet nobody seems to care or notice as she lights the first joint.
The nicotine shock hit me like a brick wall. I started coughing, my eyes immediately started to tear up and snout was running down my face. I must have looked sexy as fuck. Still, I continued to inhale properly, she joined in and I think we ended up smoking at least two joints in total. We watched all the other people in the park, giggled about random nudist stripping down naked in front of us and just talked. I didn’t really feel any different. It was basically like the first time I had tried. A sore throat, the disgusting taste of tobacco in my mouth and that’s about it. Nothing seemed much funnier and I din’t feel unusually relaxed.
We planned to see Yesterday later that day, you know, the movie about the alternative universe guy who suddenly starts hearing Beatles songs and becomes famous by playing them? So we went to the cinema. But the moment we had arrived, we saw this really nice burger place right next to it and Yesterday was no more. We had awesome burgers, she kept giggling a lot, while worrying that people might notice that she had smoked. Which as I now know, is SUCH a weed thing! I wasn’t worried at all, just glad my eyes had stopped to tear. We continued to talk, we had fun, but somehow less fun that usual. I don’t know what happened, but after the food her mood got a bit less positive and she started to get a bit silent and depressed for some reason. In retrospect I should have just asked her what’s up. One of the many things I learned this year.

Just. Fucking. Ask.

Maybe it was this weird moment we had, when our hands touched for a second while walking next to each other. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to hold hand or not. I remember grabbing her for a second, she pulled away, so I let go again, then her had came back and because I found the whole thing confusing I just started ironically patting her hand. God that was awkward. Again. I should have just fucking asked her if she wanted to hold hands. In retrospect she might have interpreted my silence as a rejection. And in my defence, I had up to that point never held anybody’s hand in any romantic way ever. It just made me very nervous.
I started walking her back to the train station, we stopped at a McDonalds for a coffee, she got scared shitless my some random dick who suddenly started screaming into his smartphone. Five minutes later she was apologising about suddenly being so nervous, her mind immediately went to “terrorist attack” and her heart was still racing. I tried to comfort her. I wanted to hug her. Tell her that I would never let anything happen to her. But I felt like I would have overstepped some red line by holding her and the “I am a man and will protect you.” -act is kinds cheesy isn’t it?

Anyways. Finally at the train station we ended up having to wait for a while, she had the idea to sit down (on the ground, of course;) and watch vine compilations on youtube. It was great fun, we laughed, we cried, we cringed. We also ended up being pretty physically close to each other, awkwardly not really hugging each other, but clearly touching a lot. As always. I only do weird. You should know this my now. Still. It was nice.
Finally the train came, we hugged each other goodbye and that was that. I think she was glad to finally be on her way home that day. Although she did mention later that she hadn’t had as much fun in many many weeks as she did watching vines with me. That made me happy.

I took my own train back home, practically fell into my bed and couldn’t for the love of god fall asleep that night. I was just completely unable to lie still for more that ten seconds in my bed. I was constantly rolling around. from left to right, on my stomach, on my back and everything in between. It was excruciating. My body felt like I was running a marathon while my mind just desperately wanted to finally go to sleep. Only later I would learm that that must have been my only significant effect of the weed. It just sent my heart rate racing like crazy. So much about the supposed relaxing aspects of that weird herb.

I’m still considering writing her. I’ve already outlined like three and a half different letters to her. I’m considering handwriting her a physical old-school kind of letter-letter. Because it’s the best way to make sure she actually receives it, it requires a certain lever of work which shows that I give a shit and it’s kind of romantic … I guess. But is that a good idea? To be romantic? The thing is. Even if she started talking to me again. I don’t know if I even could or how I would proceed from there. I still have a lot to think about I guess.
I recently “stalked” her instagram and her user doesn’t exist anymore. She would always do this for some reason when she had a panic attack or was at a particularly bad place mentally. She never deleted but often deactivate/suspend all her social media accounts. So. Maybe. She’s not feeling much better that I do without her these days. Or maybe that is exactly the kind of thinking that got me into this whole emotional mess in the first place. Did I ever only feel drawn to her because I felt like she needed somebody? Idk. That was definitely part of it. … I just want her to be happy. … And I fucking miss her. But I want to be happy too. I also deserve to be! See? Now I sounds like I maybe shouldn’t write her, don’t I?

The forth date.

Ólafur Arnalds - nyepi
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Quum8qoG7v0

If I had so summarise this date in one word it would be: Awkward.
I’m not even sure if I should call it a date. At the time I didn’t think it was. I thought I was visiting a friend. Afterwards I did feel different about it, about her. So I’m including it. It is in may way a turning point in our relationship. She allowed me to step into her life that day. It was humbling and exciting. And I also didn’t know how to react to many new things, which mad it very awkward.

Her hospital wasn’t exactly in my home town. I had to take quite a long train ride to visit her, I failed to change to another train, had to wait for an extra hour on some lonely train station in the middle of some nowhere countryside. God. I am such a city kid. I could never live in a place like that. It makes me anxious just to think about it.
It wasn’t really a problem though. We just met an hour later. We had actually decided to go to the old part of the village she was staying at and just meet on the bus that drives there. So, of course the bus is absolutely packed. I have one of the few remaining seats, she gets on the bus with a giant baby carriage that just barely fits between the other two, there are people between us, it’s loud, we can’t really say hi, we can’t really hug, we’re both obviously kind of frustrated by the entire situation and on top of that I decide to awkwardly wave to her. Finally she sits down next to me for a second, but obviously can’t just ignore her child in the back of the bus, so she’s constantly checking on it, eventually stands up again to be next to the carriage, but I can’t join her because there’s just no room. I distinctly remember how weird it all felt. I wanted to say hi to her kid, I wanted to stand next to her, I wanted to hug her and say that I’ve missed her. And I couldn’t do any of these things. And once we finally got off the bus it was obviously too late for my brain to make up for it. Because it would have probably made things even more awkward.
So we went for some ice cream. I continued to be socially awkward. I guess I pretty much just ignored her kid, because I don’t know how to deal with children anyways. I never have. I feel silly talking to them, I don’t know what to say and what not to say. It all comes down to the fact that I don’t have any children in my closer family or circle of friends, no tiny humans to practice being social with. So I just avoid them whenever I can.
She used the opportunity to go shopping, the kid almost suffocated on a piece of pretzel, we walked through a few small stores, spent some time in a book shop. It was actually quite a nice little town. Nothing I would ever want to live in, but nice. I slowly started to warm up to her again. We talked a lot about movie - the only topic I really can talk about endlessly. She had bought a few new shades of nail polish and wanted to test them on me. So I let her paint my nails. I think it had her happy. To be honest she didn’t do a very good job. The paint was very frayed at the edges of my nails. But I liked it, I liked the human contact and I hadn’t worn any nail polish in probably over a decade, so why the hell not? I even kept it on throughout the next week, until I finally remembered to buy nail polish remover.
Eventually she had to get back to the hospital, this time the bus ride was significantly less awkward. We both stayed at the baby carriage, she was hesitant to hold onto me in a steep corner - which amazed me. I still don’t fully understand why she was so incredibly careful with me. I wish she would have just kissed me that night on our second date.

I decided to stay with her at the hospital for a few more hours until I had to catch the last train back home. Only family members were allowed inside. So. Again. There would have been a bunch of park benches, but she chose to sit down on the concrete stairs in front of the entrance instead. She was doing most of the talking. Telling me about all the books she had read and all kinds of gossip about other patients in her ward. I remember suddenly noticing how silent I had been the entire day, but I seemed unable to really do anything about it. I wanted to ask her questions, but all I could come up with were dumb and impersonal ones. Such as, who many patients were currently at her hospital ward. It felt weird. It feels even weirder in retrospect. Maybe this is why so little people are interested in me. I should really learn to talk more.
I did however finally have some interaction with her kid. It was fascinated by my colourful nails and I can proudly proclaim that I successfully stopped it from eating random plants countless times. True life saver I am. I also almost let it fall down a stair-step. Just ignore that.
I think we gave each other a short hug when I left. I walked back to the bus station, the bus brought me to the train station where I joined the three other passengers. It was at that moment that I decided to make a selfie. I still have that picture today. Me sitting next to the train window. My face illuminated by the bright orange sunset, my resting bitch face just slightly broken by the tiniest smile. Like a fire had been ignited inside me. Like I had maybe allowed myself to fall in love just the tiniest bit. And maybe it was going to be ok, no matter the odds. I was happy back then, happy that I took the trip, happy of what’s to come. Hopeful of a bright future.
So what did I do? I wrote her she should forget about the things I once wrote about not being interested in her romantically. I told her I liked her a lot and I wanted to keep spending more time with her. that I was sorry about the confusion, that it’s all a bit much, the hospital, the mental breakdowns, the kid. But I wanted to try again.

Now I sometimes wish I had never visited her that day. I think I should rewatch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Just because I think it might help me answer a question I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Would I rather experience this? (Remembering the good and the bad experiences I had with her.) Or would I rather forget all of it? Or in other words. Has all of this pain and drama been worth it?

It’s obviously still affecting me a lot. Otherwise I wouldn’t feel the need to write about it. I’m spending the next few weeks in my home town again. Away from my friends. Closer to her. And I’m afraid it’s going to throw me into a huge depression. Should I write her again? Should I apologise? Even though I’m not entirely sure what I would even be apologising for. No. There is a certain level of pride that is stopping me from writing her this time. And we’ll get to why that is in a few dates. But, I am wondering if that pride is keeping me from becoming happier again or saving me from even more pain.

Building a Friendship

Still between the third and the fourth date.

I guess she did give a shit. First we write on Instagram, then she gets a new phone and we switch to WhatsApp. And we write a lot. At the time I didn’t really have anything else to do, so there were days where I basically did nothing else but write with her. We talk about everything. Art, movies, books, politics, music, so much music, we talked about sex, she’s incredibly open about that topic. I never had a friend like that before, so I enjoy it, it feels exciting and freeing. Sometimes she starts flirting. She might have even given me a compliment once. (Which she might have done no more than another three times ever.) And she sends me partial nudes. The first and only nudes anybody has ever sent me. It was really fucking hot. I feel very flattered by all of it.

She got accepted at the hospital. It’s a special hospital where she can have a room with her kid. She tells me a lot about life as a patient. It’s fascinating, often absolutely hilarious, sometimes it almost reminds me of that Netflix show “Orange is the new black”. How seemingly unimportant things suddenly become very important when you’re “inside”. How there are rumors of girls sneaking out at night to meet with male patients from the forensic ward. She also told me about the different kinds of medicine she has to try. How it often takes weeks to find out if they work or not and how the side effects are often pretty fucking crazy and unexpected. Like the fact that they often affect you libido. Have you ever masturbated 30 times a day?

So this is a time where things get a bit blurry. Lots of things got written. Some I might regret later, a lot I just don’t remember anymore. These are the times I don’t have a chat backup from, so I can’t really check either. I think we didn’t really have any fights. She had a few more breakdowns and she definitely had a lot more that I knew nothing about. A lot of fear of loosing the custody of her kid, etc. I tried to be supportive, I tried to be there and I think I was there a lot. Whenever she needed me. I also told her a lot about my life, about how I was doing, what I felt und thought like. I feel like this is the time she got to know me a lot better too.

This was the time we really became friends. And I wish we still were. I just don’t know if it would make me happier.
So she invited me to visit them in the clinic, so next time I was in my home town, that’s exactly what I did.

My Side

Red flags are everywhere and I was just blind to them because I just was in love with the person.
https://vimeo.com/365303320

Between the third and the fourth date.

So. At this point I had to make a decision. Should I tell her that this is too much? Is telling a potential partner about your mental illnesses only after they have shown themselves in the most extreme way a red flag? If I had known I would have been more prepared. To be honest I don't know if I would have reacted any better or worse. Mental illness is such a vast and complicated topic! And I tried to get into it, I tried to develop an understanding, I even read a few comics about it! And half a year later I still feel so lost!
But it would have helped me that night, to know that ultimately this is just an extreme episode that will pass in a day or three. That night had quite the effect on me. At the time I was writing with a lot of people on dating apps and suddenly I started asking them about prior mental problems. And the result was fascinating. The vast majority had a history of, not just a mild depression, but a serious clinical diagnosis. All of a sudden I felt surrounded by “craaaazy people”, I took this way too serious and started to ask myself why I might be attracting women with mental disorders, when in truth mental disorders are just much more common than most people think. It’s just a huge stigma, so we don’t hear about it nearly as often as it happens. Also. My brain likes to be dramatic about things and I was looking for some simple explanation on why I was single and alone.

What is a red flag anyway?
Regular panic attacks?
An unwanted child at around 20?
Boasting about the amount of drug experience one had?
Trying to study philosophy?
Watching the Kardashians?

Failing to be understanding to all or just one of the above?
Failing to properly talk about important feelings, emotions and expectations?

I guess it depends. And in this case it depended on me.
I talked to a lot of my friends about it, hell, I even talked to other dates about it. Some told me to completely cut ties. Ruuuun while I still can! She’s obviously a broken person and she will continue to make me feel incredibly depressed! She might pretend like she needs me but she probably also tells that to the twently other guys. Others told me that if I wanted to be there for her I should try. And I really felt like she did need me. She told me multiple times that she didn’t really have a lot of friends. And I guess that’s a thing I like a lot. Helping people.
The oldest person I have ever met on Tinder once told me that she felt like I was the kind of person who likes to take care of a partner. I don’t know how the fuck she managed to come to that conclusion within the maybe 20 messages we had exchanged. But fuck me she was right. I love being there for people. I love it when somebody thanks me, even though I always pretend to be very modest. I love the feeling of power you have over somebody when you suggest something in their interest and they actually do it. (I know that sounds creepy btw. but I don’t really know how else to put it. There just always is a power aspect to helping people.) Since I’ve heard about it for the first time I wanted to go on one of those boats in the mediterranean sea that helps refugee rubber dinghies. My secret plan in case the movie thing fails has always been to work as an emergency physician. Those are mostly fantasies. But you get the point.

To put it in very simple terms: She wasn’t making me happy anymore.
So I chose to write her goodbye. I told her she’s awesome, I wished her and her kid all the best, I thanked her for her time and all the great things she showed me.
But it didn’t feel right to just loose her completely. I wanted us to stay friends. I wanted to be a grown up about this! She's incredibly interesting and even just from a storytellers perspective - I wanted to know how her story continues!
But I also didn’t feel like she ever really cared about me. And that's not how friendships work. So I gave her an option. A way out. Some way to write in case she actually gave a shit.

[…]
You‘re welcome to continue writing me on Instagram etc.
I‘d actually like that, because I really like you.
But I don‘t have the emotional experience for anything more than that atm.

I think at the time this was less of a conscious decision, but she would later get really mad about my intentions here. Calling me words such as “toxic” and “manipulative”. For? Well. I guess for making her write me again after a week? For trying to find out if she cares about me as a human being? And not just a chat bot with the sole intention to make her feel better about her shitty life?
Maybe it was a bit manipulative. Or maybe she's just extremely good at making one feel bad. Idk. What do you think? I’d actually really like to know. (Do the guestbook thing!) At that time I honestly couldn’t imagine ever being together with her. I also think I have a small phobia of loosing friends. But we’ll maybe get to that in a few days.

Did you see that last fucking sentence btw? The one about the emotional experience. Right now I am literally none the wiser, than I was half a year ago! One week later we started to write on WhatsApp again and everything continued as if nothing ever happened.

Darkening of the light.

Your life may feel out of control or under a dark spell for a time. This too shall pass. A veil of untruth makes things dark, but all hope is not lost. Yield to the darkness for a time, but be cautious of it. As the light dims your inner light grows more visible. You are light. Light is love. The Sun still shines behind its veil of clouds. It is the light inside that is ultimately important. With this knowledge you can survive any darkness outside.

The third date.

So. This is where things escalated.
One thing you have to understand is that the first two dates happened within less then a week. At that time I used to work in my home town and study in a different town two weeks at a time and another two weeks had just ended. But at this point I was absolutely enchanted by her. So I promised to come back the following weekend. We would in theory have three days to spend together. So, I'm back in my home town, I tell her I'm here, I ask her when she wants to meet and I don't really get a promising answer. She seems to avoid my question, she says she's not feeling well, she's busy, she has nobody to look after her kid and she keeps getting weirder. I came back on Friday noon. She didn't feel like meeting then, she actually canceled our date on Saturday so late that I had already been waiting for her in town for two hours.
All this time I was starting to wonder what was going on. All I felt was confusion and disappointment. And I try to be understanding. Those things happen, she's a young mother, she doesn't get a lot of sleep, how could I even be so selfish to expect her to see me?
Still. On Sunday I started to get a bit frustrated. So I write her that I'm going to be leaving town today. If she wants to see me, this is the last chance. Again. She says she's trying. But again, I never get a concrete answer. I have nothing better to do so I start buying bus tickets for all kinds of scenarios. Just to have one reserved

  • in case we don't see each other,
  • in case she does show up and can only stay a few hours
  • and one in case we meet, it gets really late and leaves on her last train home.

I basically just spent one half of three days watching movies in my bed waiting for her to write me when to meet, only to then spend another three halves waiting for her to cancel our date.
It's getting late, it's cold outside, I'm already in town because I have nothing better to do, I start wandering through streets, just waiting, waiting for something to happen. I write her that I’m going to leave now. And suddenly something happens. She finally responds. Which is unusual because she’d been very taciturn for the last few days. And what she writes takes my fucking breath away.

My parents are kicking me out
My dad told me to just kill myself
My brother said that he hates me
I don't know what to do any more
[…]
My brother beat me up
I'm just
I don't know where to go
[…]

In case I need to remind you. She’s just a bit older than 20, has no job, no german citizenship and a one year old.
I remember exactly where I was when she wrote this. It actually was quite a lovely old inner courtyard. I should maybe go there next time I’m back in my home town. Confront trauma and all …
By the way. When I say this took my breath away I mean it. I still remember the physical reaction I had reading all of this. I remember how cold it was. I remember how my hands started shaking, how I told myself it was just the cold temperature, how I had trouble breathing, how I had to sit down on a park bench for ten minutes just to calm myself down.

So. What was I supposed to do?
First of all. I was freezing. I had to get warm. I had to move. So I started to wander through my home town. Aimlessly. Not even looking where I was going, just focused on the OkCupid chat. I tried to find out if she was actually fucking serious. I tried to calm her down. I tried to be nice and understanding. I tried to be there. I started asking questions. Trying to find out where she was. If she and her child were in immediate danger. If they needed a place to stay for the night. If I should call the police. If I should come get them. Slowly trying to find out what was going on. Maybe I could help somehow. It took her forever to answer just a single question and she never answered half of them. She said she had phone phobia and calling was not an option. It was infuriating.

Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore, I was about to cry, it was cold, for the first time in an hour I looked up and realised I had to idea where I was. I had no idea what the fuck to do. So I called my best friend and told her everything. And fuck me I’m glad I did that. She saved me that day. She was there and I am so grateful that she was. We spoke on the phone for almost an hour. Meanwhile I kept texting, really still just trying to get a hold on the situation. My best friend suggested calling the hotline of a local women's shelter. So I did. They were very nice and understanding, but couldn’t help a lot. Obviously I didn’t give them any personal information about her. She would have to approach them herself anyway. I mean, tbh. I didn’t even knew her last name at the time. One thing the lady on the hotline said stayed with me to this day. “If I have any knowledge about a crime that has been committed, you have to tell the police.” Fuck that scared me. I didn't know what to do and what not to do. They gave me a few addresses and phone numbers I forwarded to my date. It made her extremely furious.

Fuck you
[…]
I asked you to
Not get involved
Can't you just do one fucking thing I ask of you?!
[…]
Please just leave me alone

This day was the single most dramatic day. Well. A least of this entire year. And this year was packed with so much drama:) I will never forget it and it will haunt me forever. She apologised a few hours later. We kept writing throughout the next few days and she gave me a lot more context on the whole situation. The short and highly censored version is: She has cPTSD from childhood trauma. It makes her panic a lot. That night she had an extreme panic attack. I wish I would have know that such a thing might happen ahead of time. The fact that she didn’t tell me is. Well. It should have been telling, in a way. She really wasn’t looking for anything serious, anything long term.

I never met her family. Maybe they really are a bunch of dicks, maybe they just can’t really deal with the mental illness of their daughter very well. Maybe she’s just not the family type. But I don’t think she was ever in any real danger that night. Even if her brain told her otherwise. Not that that would matter in the moment. Either way. She still lives with them to this day and as far as I can tell she’s now doing much better. But it took months for her to get there. Next time I would meet her would be in a mental hospital.

The second date.

We went for a really good sushi place. One of the best ones in town. It was so good, she actually still keeps going there to this day. Just, not with me.

This time she was early. We had an awkward reception, because she was sitting on the entry steps of some apartment building in an alleyway next to the sushi place. It was already dark and I wasn’t sure if it was actually her until I approached her. I sat down with her. Somehow that felt weird to me. I don’t really know why, thb. I guess I would usually rather stand and waiting, than sit down on the dirty floor of some street. Maybe this is just my arrogant privileged mind speaking. I would later notice that she did that a lot. She would rather sit on the floor than, say, on a public bench. Even if it was right next to her.
We went inside, she was surprised I had reserved a table. We drank an entire bottle of wine and started to get kinda drunk. Everything was perfect. We laughed at each other failing to eat with chopsticks. It just felt like we had already been friends for years. It felt right. I felt safe with her. This was again, different to every other date I ever had up to that point. We finished the sushi quite quickly, but stayed a lot, drinking, talking. I don’t really remember a lot of what we talked about, I just remember it as a great date.
After the sushi we went to look for a bar. She wanted me to try a White Russian, so we just started wandering though the town looking for a nice looking bar. It took us ages to find one that wasn’t completely packed. We ordered two Black Russians - that’s all they had and she started talking again. A lot. This time she opened up a lot more about her personal life, about her one year old child, how it wasn’t exactly planned, how the father had run away, about how traumatic the entire pregnancy and birth was. It seemed like for the first time she had found somebody to tell all of this too without receiving judgement. Actually, all she received from me was awe and respect. The more she talked, the more I was impressed by her endurance and ability to just keep going.
I don’t want to give away too many details. I don’t want her to be easily identifiable. Though, anybody how already knows her in person must have already recognised her at this point. This feels morally complicated btw. I don’t know how she would feel if she would know I’m writing this. There are many things she had told me over the course of the time we spent dating. Things I would never tell anybody. And I have told her personal things too, mine just tend to be. Less. Extreme. I’ll have to pay close attention about what to leave out in future blog posts.

Anyways. Human child birth in and of itself is already fucking crazy. But the shit that she had been through was completely insane. And still, she seemed so. Fine. I was so fascinated by her. God she was interesting! I remember walking her back to the train station, running with her tocatch the last train. I remember being drunk. I remember her being drunk. Both just the right amount. I remember being just happy. Just in the moment. She gave me a very long hug to say goodbye. It felt amazing. On my way home she texted me she wouldn’t have minded a kiss. I agreed.

To this day. Even after eight months of dating. We never kissed.

The first date.

We met at my favourite Italian restaurant in my home town. She was a few minutes late. The first moments were really awkward. She approached me in perfect german, even though we had written on OkCupid in english for like almost a month. Turns out she was very insecure about her written german. One of the many quirks I would slowly learn about her.
We sat down, ordered food and she started talking. A lot.
Which, usually I like. Because quite frankly I've never been a talker, so I like people who "lead" the conversation. I enjoyed it, we laughed, we had awkward moments, we moved past them. But I was starting to realise two things.

First. It seemed like she didn't know a lot about me. She didn't remember a lot of what we had already written about online. She was constantly asking me if she had already told me this and that and asked me questions we had already written about.
Either she had really bad memory or she wasn't really that interested in me as a person or I was just one of many many other people she was writing with.

Second. She couldn't stay on ANY topic for more than five sentences. She was just spewing out topic after topic, opinion after opinion. She would ask me a question and not even wait for my answer but just keep talking and talking. It felt bipolar to me at the time. (Not that I even really know what the means. But I’m too tired to look it up right now;) I wanted to answer, "join" the one sided conversation, make it less of monologue so many times. But every other time I came up with an answer, she had already completely changed the topic. I was very frustrating. If felt like she hadn't talked to anyone in months. It felt like she hasn't felt this free in years. It felt like this was only about her.

I was starting to get the feeling that she was less interested in me as a person and more as a casual one night stand. And I didn't like that. I was a virgin at the time and I've to this day never been interested in one night stands. I need to get to know people first and one day or one week is just not enough for that.
In retrospect it feels like she was trying JUST SO HARD. To seem interesting or likeable, desirable. And it worked. She was interesting, incredibly experienced for her age, exciting, really fucking clever, so incredibly different to all the rest of my friends. I was fascinated by her. I guess I still am, in many ways. So I decided I’m going to keep trying. Get to know her. Make this … more.

Up to that point all dates I've ever been on, ended in saying goodbye when leaving the restaurant. This time I walked her to the next subway station. I even felt compelled to put my arm around her for a moment while walking. It just felt natural. I had never done that before. Once at the station she was hilariously confused when I told her that this is where our ways would separate. I guess she was really hoping for a different outcome of that night. We assured each other we wanted to meet again and left.

It was at that point the best date I had ever been on in my entire life. At least that's what I felt like at the time. Now I know that it was a date with somebody who does incredibly well at first dates. Who knows how to impress somebody. For a night. If I would have went on that date today, even just slightly more experienced than when I was then, things would have gotten intimate a lot faster.
But the thing is. Once I got to know her better, everything got so much more complicated. More complicated that you could ever fucking imagine. The next morning I had already asked her out for a second date.
I had no idea what I was in for.

191103

Sooo. It’s been a while.
Like a third of an entire year.
Sorry about that.
I didn’t really expect anyone to read this, but apparently there’s at least one person. Hello there, reader. If you’re still here:) A bit annoying that Listed doesn’t give you any kind of notifications on guestbook entries.

— I miss your daily posts.

Aww. Thanks. I think I missed them too, in a way. I’ve only come to realize that now. Maybe a boy only has that much capacity to write in a day and I’ve just stopped writing with a person who once was very important to me. So a lost friendship gave me time for daily blog posts again. That being said, who knows how long this is going to last. I’m making no promises this time. No counting days. But I will try to write if I feel like it. And if I actually have something to say.

A lot happened in the past four months.

My stupid movie still isn’t finished. Though it will be within the next week. So this is probably the worst time to start blogging again, because I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep in the past days and that won’t change for another few. Last night I exported the .dpx sequence for the DCP. It’s 330 GB and almost 40.000 frames. Some VFX shots are still missing and the mix isn't done yet.

I’ve been sort of on and off dating a girl for more than half a year. We wrote a lot with each other on WhatsApp. So much in fact, that it sometimes felt to me like we were in some kind of relationship. We were so open to each other. She was the first person I talk to openly about sexuality. I was incredibly attracted to her. When we spent time together in rl, it was literally the highlight of the entire month for me. We just had a lot of fun together, we just clicked. At least so I thought.
This is a very short summarization, but I basically started falling in love with her and when I would tell her she would always push me away only to then meet me again after a while. Eventually we had yet another argument about things that happened in the past. I said regrettable things. I sometimes feel like I say nothing but regrettable things. She said she is not interested in a monogamous boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, which hurt a lot, because she had always given me that impression. (Or at least I thought so.) And then she told me that she never wanted to have anything to do with me ever again and we haven't had any contact since.
The more time passes the more I’m starting to realize that she might have made a really good decision for me there. I wanted to desperately stay friends and I would have allowed her to tear me apart. This entire experience has made me so depressed and caused so much emotional pain. Yet. I’m still not at a point where I could honestly say that I’m glad it’s over. I miss her.

In other news. I think I now have a girlfriend. Obviously not the person above. My first ever girlfriend. So, naturally I’m very scared of fucking it all up and really ending up hurting her. But. Idk. Maybe you have to make those mistakes to learn from them? It’s not like I’m madly in love, but that might come in time. And if it doesn’t, that’s ok too. She’s six years younger than me, we’re having sex, things are actually pretty great. I guess if I could voice on tiny little wish, it would be - I’d like to love her the same way I loved the girl that pushed me away.
Time will tell. I guess.

I’m changing the name of this blog to captain of my soul because I like the poem “Invictus” William Ernest Henley and anything is better than what this was called before.

The fourth person I fell in love with.

The fact that I am unable to form an opinion.

On whether

I really loved you
I did everything wrong
you were my first relationship
you never felt something for me
I will see you again
I hurt you more than you hurt me
all of this was fucking worth it
I want to forget

or not.

I never had so many questions,
conflicting feelings,
no answers.

It's like I'm wandering through a labyrinth and I don't even know if I want to find the exit.

I never felt like this before.
It's scary.
I don't like it.

Is this what life always feels like when you add love, relationships and all those things into the mix?
How long will it take for me to start laughing about this?

190708 #100Days

Day 63.

Oh hi there! I forgot to write today. I'm considering just not doing these apology blog posts. And just blog wherever I actually have something to say in the future. Did a special HIIT workout yesterday. Everything still hurts.

190707 #100Days

Day 62. Filmmaking.

So today he spontaneously decided to try to capture on last shot for out title-sequence. And I think we failed. But we found the perfect location for it and just need to revisit it again another time. Still. Very busy and stressful day. I'll go to sleep now.

190706 #100Days

Day 61. Emotions.

THE MASTER

by Paul Thomas Anderson.
This one reminded me of Inherent Vice a lot. It has great actors delivering fantastic performances, great cinematography, interesting times and places, fascinating ideas and concepts. I'm just. Idk.
I just didn't enjoy it as much as I though I would. There was something missing. And I can't quite put my finger on what it is. I was somewhat distracted by some weird emotions that I'll get to later. So maybe I wasn't focused 100% on the movie. Only like 95%. But still. That should have been enough.

It's really hard to describe what I didn't like. Or why. I understood all the characters. They were complex at times, but always made sense to me. I liked how real it all felt. Freddy's self-destructive life story as a bunch of weird but well meaning cultists try to help him to get better.
Maybe I was just missing a bigger or more satisfying ending. But at the same time I fully understand and stand behind the current ending. It felt right. It fits. Maybe that's just all that's to my confusion. Maybe my simple little mind just needs a simple and satisfying happy ending and this movie just couldn't give that to me. I wish I wouldn't be that dull sometimes. Some movies have mediocre ending that are more designed to get you thinking. And that's ok.

I also sometimes feel like I'm just not intelligent enough, or old enough, or mature enough to understand some movies. Maybe I'll have to revisit this one ten years from now. Maybe I'll have some answers by then. So to summarize: As always with PTA, I think this was a fantastic movie. I might just have to watch it again in a decade, just to make sure.

In other news.

I cooled down in Germany. T though. But today it going to have 30 degrees Celsius again. Fuck. Yesterday I keep writing with that girl I really like. We met like three times already and well. Difficult backstory. For now you just need to know: I'm fascinated by her character, her endurance and her knowledge, I think she's very attractive and I feel very drawn to her. Yesterday we texted a lot about masturbation and sex. And I did something I couldn't see myself doing even just a month ago. I told her the truth. I told her that I'm a virgin.
The psychologist inside me is very proud and thinks that this is a very important step, opening up to other people, making your feelings and desires know. The coward inside me worries that, even though she reacted very quickly and quite nicely, she has now lost any kind of interest in me. That is. Sexually. Romantically? Idk. I guess time will tell if he's right. For the time being I'm just going to pretend that everything is just fine and normal and I'm happy and satisfied. Like I've been doing for the past 15 years.
Either-way. However this is going to affect our friendship. And I do think that this will only deepen our friendship. No matter if we will ever cuddle and kiss and maybe even get more intimate. I will grow from this. And at the end of the day. That's all that matters.

190705 #100Days

Day 60. How to sell clothes online (Fast)

Yeah no. I'm not actually going to explain that to you. I don't have any answers! It's just a reference to a german Netflix show I haven't watched.
Didn't watch a movie yesterday. I cleaned our entire flat and started photographing clothes and props from our movie that we don't need any more to sell them online. I'll continue to make photos today. It's actually quite a lot of stuff and because I know the tiniest bit about photography, I put way too much effort into those pictures. And I'm not very confident that a lot of people are going to be interested in it. Anyways. We'll find out.

I started to do seven minute workouts again and I'm going to try to keep that up for now. Like once a day. At some point maybe twice a day. At least that's my plan now. Let's see how it works out.

190704 #100Days

Day 59. Bergman did it again!

SHAME

By Ingmar Bergman.
So. This one is good. Again very very good. Also very sad and grim and hopeless. Frustrating at times. Every time you think it can't get any worse it still gets worse. This is one of the best anti war movies I have ever seen. And again. Really. It's so simple. Just show how war affects civilians. Yet for some fucking reason most anti war movies I've see always seem to circle around soldiers fighting. Being heroic. Saving people. Because after all in any war there are always good and bad soldiers. Right?

Nope. I love that the movie doesn't even try to take a side. Never even explains who is fighting who for what and why. There's just the army that currently occupies the island and the other army that tries to take over the island. Trapped in-between are the citizens. unpolitical, uninterested in the reasons, just waiting for it all to finally end while they hope to survive.

There are some explosions, gunfire and action in this movie. But it's over so quickly! I love how it's not portrayed as "cool" whatsoever. In any contemporary movie those explosions and action sequences would have lasted for minutes, there would have been slow motion and CGI and all the cool things! Here it's over in a few seconds. It feels brutal. Unforgiving. Real.

And then there's the relationship between the two main characters. And this is the only part where I struggle with the story. Maybe it's because I've never really been in a long term relationship or maybe it's just what war does to people. But. There are some confusing character choices that I just don't understand. At least towards the end. Like. When the Mayor has sex with the wife? I guess we never see it. At least makes out with her. I completely understand that when the Mayor later needs his money back to survive the husband refuses to give it back. To have his revenge. But I expected him to give in at any point. Instead he actually accepts the fact that the soldiers raid and burn their entire little farm and he even personally fucking shoots the Mayor dead?! That. That just felt off character to me. Like. I don't know how we got there. What made him do it. And from then on it's just as confusing. Why does she stay with him till the end and why does he just continue to be a cold blooded killer all of a sudden.

I guess she didn't really have anybody else left. To follow, to be with. And even if they don't love each other anymore they still need each other. They also sort of switched roles. While at the beginning of the movie he was the passive one and she gave all the orders, now he makes all the (bad) choices. But at least he makes them?
What get's people to a point where they decide that killing somebody is the only option they have? Maybe this was the intention. To spark those kind of thoughts inside my head. Would I really have done it differently in his place? I think so. But that's easy to say while I'm sitting comfortably on this giant couch full of colorful pillows. I hope I never have to be in a war. I hope Europe stays as peaceful and relatively friendly towards each other and the rest of the world than in the last seventy years.

I like the ending. It's open but quite hopeless and that's only fitting for this movie. Shame it definitely worth a watch, though I'm confused about the last like 20 minutes. But it's a really good movie!

190703 #100Days

Day 58. Look at me! I watched two movies!

Through a Glass Darkly

By Ingmar Bergman.
So. I'm not going to lie. I didn't expect this. But this was.
Good. Like actually really fucking good! Like. Holy shit. This movie was shot in 1961!
It has amazing characters! They felt real! They felt right.! Just four great actors on an island. That's all you need for a good story.
Just the way they lied to each other, pretended to be fine and then slowly started to loosen and be more honest and vulnerable. The way everybody got his moment. The essential questions and the different ways everybody deals with them, but still accepts each other. This one also hit a lot closer than I expected. The topic of being with somebody who has a mental disorder and the topic of living with somebody who is slowly dying from a seemingly untreatable illness. I had tears in my eyes at the end.
So would I watch this movie again? Yes. Yes! I'd love to! This was fantastic!

The Front Page

by Billy Wilder. It's from 1931. That's so old! And it still looks so good. As in quality of the picture.
So. I think I haven't really seen a bad film by Wilder. This one was ok. A bit to sexist. Too many men. The few women in the film were servants, prostitutes or a somewhat silly wife. I liked the absurd plot. The insanely manipulative newspaper boss, who just doesn't want to loose his best journalist to such a ridiculous thing as marriage. The rolltop desk bit was pretty funny.
The movie was enjoyable but I don't think I'll have to watch it again.

190702 #100Days

Day 57. Have I mentioned that it's pretty hot?

I have to go in 15 minutes and we're going to shoot one more simple plate for a VFX-Shot. So this is going to be a speed run. What's on my mind?
A girl. I've been texting with her a lot over the past few months, we met again two weeks ago and I'm starting to really like her. I also miss her a lot. I also want to hug her. A lot. While naked.
And you know what's the crazy part? I'm pretty sure she feels very similar towards me. And I don't think that ever really happened to me. I don't think I'm in love. I don't even think I want to be. For now. I just want to spend more time with her. But. We live in different cities right now. I'll probably see her again in more than a month. And that's a long time when it comes to feelings.

Anything else that keeps spooking around my head? I haven't felt very healthy and fit for the last few days. I think it's mostly just the heat. I was also surrounded by ill people and my immune system probably had to cope with a lot. I've been meaning to do more sport, but it's sooo hot! I also want to get into the habit of watching a movie every single day again. I saw that there was some sort of weird new project by PTA on Netflix. I'll check that out later today. I think I heard by flatmate crying this morning, but she already left. I'm going to have to ask her about that later.

190701 #100Days

Day 56. It still hot.

Busy day. Much to do. Tomorrow too. But at least I'll get some sleep tomorrow morning. But I might at the very least get to watch a movie tomorrow evening. If I can endure it while it's this hot.

190630 #100Days

Day 55. It hot.

Moved cities again today. Have to do a presentation tomorrow. I wound't say I'm scared, just ill prepared. I'm rehearsing best I can. Either way. Tomorrow is going to be uncomfortable. It's just too hot. My brain can't function at these temperatures. It doesn't even get cold enough at night. I'll take any summer over any winter day, but this is starting to get to me.

Oh. LORN just released a new album. (https://lorn.bandcamp.com/album/drown-the-traitor-within) So I guess I'll be listening to more deeply depressing but beautiful music tonight.
UPDATE: By far his least depressive album. Very short, but to the point. I like it.