Monday, May 8, 2017

Lately.

A lot of time has passed since my last post and I feel like I own my blog an update. I know, blog, you probably imagine the 2017 Camilla as a confident young woman who has just started a promising career, while figuring her life out in her free time and practicing tai chi everyday. If so, you are completely wrong. Here I am: soon 25 year old, in my parents' flat, eating some chips  at 3 AM and feeling guilty because I should be sleeping in order to be super fresh (wait, is this French or English?) to study tomorrow. Study? Yes, study. I have postponed my graduation and this makes me feel quite miserable. And guilty, because "I haven't done my job". I've always known I was a bit of a procrastinator - it is definitely not "pure avantgarde". Nevertheless, I always saved myself at the last moment and never really lost control of my studies. Perhaps I did during my last Erasmus... In the first semester I did some exams, in the second I did the minimum - but still something. But I was supposed to start my thesis and I tried to collect the material and read, read, read dozens of books (read: "flipped through the pages"), but inspiration didn't come and I was feeling partly distracted by the novelties in my life, partly trapped in some kind of crucial moment of life where I should decide what to do with myself - and I felt I was completely failing at it.
So here I am, still a big exam to go and a thesis to finish. More motivation, but many uncertainties about managing to do everything in time. I've been feeling very guilty towards my parents, haven't updated my father about the university taxes to pay and, as a result, I am quite stressed on the matter... And feel afraid to ask my parents even for a cent, lol. So that's also a reason (together with the concerns about my father, which came with more guilt... Mon dieu, I start to realize I have a lot of guilty feelings inside me and this is not good) why I came back, even though everybody seemed to be surprised I did. Why so? I haven't finished uni, I am not earning money, I have finished my internship... I don't have concrete reasons to stay there, except for one, uhm, who is texting me right now from Beijing. I can't believe it's already one year and a half we have been speaking if not seeing everyday. I am happy about my relationship. I didn't even think I was a relationship person, some years ago. I was awful at them! I never had boyfriends when I was a teenager, while everybody else had. I've dated a guy that I stopped liking and then changed my mind, when it was too late (and probably it was just hesitation); then a guy stopped to like me, while I almost worshipped him and felt awful when he told me it was over; then Paolo, who basically doesn't speak to me anymore. It's a choice, but sometimes I wish we still had some kind of contact - just updating each other about our lives. Because we shared a lot, even if I realized (now even more, reading the old posts about him) that it couldn't work as it was. There were some wonderful moments and he is undoubtedly a great person, who I share so many things with, a generous, kind-hearted guy, clever and interesting, creative and sensitive... But I didn't treat him the right way for long, replying to his messages in a cold way all the time, acting annoyed... How could I do it? It was mean to him and masochistic to me. I am sorry and can understand why he wanted to cut the contacts. Still I keep great memories of our relationship, but they seem so far away... Almost another life. So this relationship kinda showed me that yes, I could have one, too, but I could also completely suck at it. Then there is the dark shade in a coat, my Georgian friend, as I call him. I think less often of him, but the connection I felt to this person is unforgettable. No matter how awkward he could sometimes be, no matter if my friend hated him - I wanted to see him again, I regretted so much meeting little while in Brno, not exposing myself enough (which was actually a wiser and more respectful thing to do, but I don't think action is the only thing to count - thoughts count a lot, too). I obsessed about him later on, thinking what would happen if we lived in the same country - perhaps nothing at all. Right now I would really like to be his friend, but for real. Not just exchanging messages every month or so. I really hope I will see him again; clearly everything has changed, but somehow I believe there is material for a friendship.
So ClĂ©ment, yes. French guy I've randomly met in a bar when I was hanging out with my best friend in Prague. As with Gogi, he made an impression on me while being the weirdest, having nonsense/funny conversations and so on. He was awfully drunk. At the moment I didn't try to speak that much to him; I refused his invitation to have a drink in his flat, and brought my friend straight back home (well, it was 5 AM). But the following days I started to think that he was kinda cute, even if I didn't explain it to myself that much. Now I realize that I had a similar feeling to what I felt in Brno. You see somebody, don't consider this person, even don't like him that much. Then you observe him for the rest of the evening and you find him funny, clever and... charming. Kind. There is something that clicks, something that makes you think "That's an interesting person", and at the same time "That's a "good" person". So I found him on social networks and casually suggested seeing each other again for a coffee. Apparently, he was shocked by my message because "he thought he had no chance with me" (baaaaah), immediately told his friend who gave him some advice and... invited me to a party. On my side, I thought he wanted me just as a friend (maybe not even) since he turned my coffee invitation to a party one. Still I went, bringing some friends... And on return, he wasn't sure if I wanted to find some people to party with (I lately discovered that "partying" is a solid element of young french culture) and was using him as a "tool". A tool... Pfff. Soon came a scarf exhange, a light kiss, a nouvelle vague flick at the cinema, a ratatouille made by him at 11 PM, a make-out, lots of chats, a dinner in a vegetarian restaurant (points for him), oral sex... And so on. Am I in love? Yes. I realized these years that I easily get tired of people (meaning "potential partners"); it's unfair and totally selfish, but I start to find many things I don't like, eventually in their looks as well... Horrible. With him, I could never. I look at him n'importe quand, and think he is terribly handsome. Of course there are some things I am not enthusiastic about, one especially, but I have made up my mind about it and it's time to move on. We are not perfect together; lately we have been arguing (well, me) a bit, but everytime I soon realized it was pointless... I was overly dramatic (and in my PMS) and he made me understand it without neither offending me nor taking whatever I told him. When he (legitimately) thought I was unfair, he told me he didn't think he deserved this treatment. He didn't say I was crazy nor apologized for something he didn't do. This way of being balances me. Moreover, I am grateful for so many things he does for me out of generosity, never asking for something in return... I just want to be cute and helpful to him, it just comes naturally. He is curious about the world, kind with people (almost naive sometimes), has a sharp mind, a good soul, beautiful features and... I miss him. He is the first person I share so much intimacy with: sleeping together, brushing our teeth at the same time (sometimes!), hugging on the sofa, even just doing some creepy morbid things like exchanging chewing gum and laughing about it... I still want my privacy, and would never do thing like peeing with the door open. But living together changes everything. I remember being afraid that it wouldn't work, I thought he needed his friends and me, that I needed my space... In fact, it went super smoothly. It was a great experience, full of nice dinners, movies, some rules (like going to bed at decent times, agh), already made tea in the morning, already warm bed, a journey into liking hugs, always being enlaced, dancing awkardly to lambada, getting into new, good habits... It was delightful.