The beginning

I always knew that one day or another I would write a diary. I often tried, but it always ended up with boring me. Every time. But maybe this it it. Maybe I do need to write down my thoughts, my feelings, all the things that cross my mind. Or maybe not all the things, just some of them. Not to share them, just to give my mind some release, to light my conscience and my heart. Maybe I need it to make some things clear, to try to understand and most of all, to forget about some of them. I like writing. I like to see what is good in people, their real nature, to write about important things to them, to make them cry with joy hearing beautiful stuff about a memory/ to make them dream , to make them smile and to make them forget, for a couple of seconds that they live in a cruel world where magic and happiness do not longer exist. I don't like talking. I love talking, laughing and getting fun with my friends. But I never confide my feelings or thoughts to anybody. I don't like that. Why would I bother people with my personal problems ? Everybody have problems. And I hear enough people talking about what is wrong with their life to not annoy anyone with mine. So maybe writing could be a good deal, really, maybe it will make me feel better. I don't know. Do I really feel so bad ? I mean, I am nearly 24, I am about to take my diploma and end my studies, I’ve got project, friends, a family who loves me. I think. So, why do I feel so empty ? I know I mean a lot for people, some of them even envy me. Idiots. For others I am an extravagant person, always happy and smiling. However, when I look in the mirror the reflect doesn't give me this image. Everything is in what you look like. It's exactly what our world is made of : reflections. We all are puppets ; with specific roles, role to keep and role to play. The world is a huge stage where some are just pawns on the game and others pull the strings. I can't even fall down. Too many things, too many people are relying on me. I was this pretty confident smiling person...until my world crashed down. Some years ago. Three years ago. Joris. Love at first sight. It really was. For both of them/ No need to explain everything, what happened is anchored in my spirit and will never escape. He cheated on me, he lied to me and he dumped me. Free fall. Big drop. Love: having so many projects with him, not being able to even imagine your future without him sharing your life, belonging to a whole thing which would perfectly work, giving your soul, offering all what you are, not being afraid of life, ever. Can it be possible that you're not the kindred soul of yours ? It's gonna be a year since he left me, and I didn't get over him. I've never seen him since. Anyway. His absence fulfils my horizon, my life. In the night I hear them talk, the colder story ever told, somewhere far along this road he lost his soul, to a woman so heartless. How could you be so heartless ? He is everywhere I look, I can feel him, I can picture him. I know he changed, I know he didn't become someone nice, so why am I torturing myself like this ? Why can't I turn the page ? Why don't I want to turn the page ? I know he won't come back. And he hurt me. So what ? Is it, I don't know, because I loved him with a pure and sincere love that I am kind of bound to him ? I don't want to meet another guy, I don't want to ever fall in love. I need to feel myself in danger, but also safe. I don't want to live a banal, lame story, without any turnings points, which would quickly fall in a lame and boring routine. I need passion, violence, a love story which would start with a glance and which would be constantly the prey of doubts. So, the kind you only find in bad romantic movies or really bad novels, you know the ones you can only find in the small shop of the train station. No need to see a psychologist to understand that I am not ready to get involved in any relationships, right now. When he did leave me, all the things I believe in, all the things I had hope and faith for, well, all these things vanished. They completely disappeared. I had the worst time of my life, this was pretty tough. I had nightmares all nights, I didn't want to see anybody and I didn't eat. A real torture, which started last may, which calmed down for some time and which came back, being more violent as ever. It's like a big hole had been dig in my chest. A hole which never closes itself. Sometimes, when I am with people I like, the hole seems to cover itself, as if these moments were little stars which would form a veil, a protector veil. Back to reality, it's even harder. This big hole, the fact I feel completely hollow, that I’m only the shadow of myself, that I am a pale copy of what I used to be, all these bad feelings remain. And nothing will ever change it. Maybe one day I’ll feel better, but right now this hole fulfils me, it is here, I can feel it, and it hurts me. But I got used to this pain. And actually I don't want it to go away because it is the only proof he existed, that he was part of my world, that we lived something good together and I don't want to forget. Hundred of things flew away when he left, and forgetting our story would kill me. I can't, I have to survive this, at least for my mother and my sisters. So, months ago my life switched to nightmare. While I thought I had found a balance in my life and a meaning to it, I woke up. I did not forget him, and I miss him. But he had changed, and now he lives his life, he enjoys it without ever caring about me. I always have this weird feeling that I will never be able to love again, that I gave him all the love I had, all the sweetness in me, all my trust. Love and trust are very rare things, particularly with me. I trust few people. So I really feel as I gave him all what I was. Everything will remain unique, this passion born for a first glance, the butterflies in my stomach each time I saw him, each time I kissed me. I like to think love is like this: imagine the heart is a vase and that the feelings you feel for this special person fill this vase. So, if it's a pure and sincere love, a true love, it will overflow, and the feelings will invade your soul, all your being, in tumultuous , violent, magical waves. These waves will make you alive. This is exactly how I felt for joris. He made me live. I have no idea of our I am going to live without him. OK, it's been eleven months I managed to do it. But it is a torture, I live one day at the time. I can't project myself in the future, even just for a week, it's freaking me out. He's gone. He let me. He abandoned me. The huge hole in my chest seems to grow bigger wt time. When he left, he took with him all my dreams, my hopes, my laughs, my smiles...I only have memories left. Our memories. He seems to have put them in a box, under a mountain of other stories. I am just a girl among many others. These memories haunt my mind. When I close my eyes, I see them, they are here, right in front of me, dancing, flying, hurting me. The first time we met, first time we kissed, first time he told me he loved me, surprise trips in Germany or England, Spain, Scotland. Of course, they are not all good memories. Some of them are pretty bad actually. But I did love him. And these memories seem to make fun of me and even come to visit me at night. They come like waves to flood my soul. They hurt me, they make me suffer. Well he makes me suffer. And yet, god knows my father is good in this area. Even if memories stay, they get with time. And it scares me; I don't want to forget, because forgetting is dying. Blabbing father maybe I’ve got a problem, I’m not even able to confide to myself, come on! It's just that I get this impression that if I said nothing, my feelings will grave somewhere where nobody will ever find them, and all will be fine. I don't want to expose them because it would weaken me. Maybe I’m wrong, well I’m probably, but this is what I believe in and this is what keeps me strong, this is what enables me to fight against all the attacks of life. Why do we have to fight? Why do I have this impression of always being on a battlefield? I know I shouldn't complain, people, millions of people, suffer more than I do. But I have to confess that I don't really get what is happening in my life right now. I didn't picture my life this way. I never imagined I would suffer this way. I was so naïve. I thought that because I was a nice person, like very nice, nothing would happen to me. I was such a fool to believe this, I am not different than the others and it seems that everyone has to fight to gain his place in Heaven. Can we be happy? I mean can we be happy all our life long? Happiness is, according to me and I am maybe wrong, like a falling star. It is made of thousands of small sparkles, which appear when they want and which form/create a pretty glittering train in our life. This falling star goes so fast, it never slows down, it never stays either. But it often comes back, when you don't expect it. Is it possible that, such as the stars, happiness can die, is it possible for the falling star to never come back again? I think so. It would explain why I feel so empty.