spinning

Below a long-long monologue of a long logn day,
i know-totally boring
but i felt like filling a blank page
there it is out. i dont want to think in circles
(though i dont think it is an illness, it really doesnt make me feel any better)
so, dear reader, if you ever get to the end of the message and have any thought to add, you are welcomed. if you ever get to the middle and get bored, thanks for having read anyway. :)


long day.
thoughts entering and leaving my head
a body weary of too much dancing and five hours of sleep and the constant struggle to keep some food down
yesterday - almost unable to stand up and go home from work, as if my arms and legs were lifeless, not belonging to me (to who else then?) i forced myself to sit on the bus and go downtown to see friends (promised, promises are sacred, we keep them!)
the best decision ever.
for five hours no thoughts of me being mentally sick,
no thoughts of mistakes, sex, illusions, feelings
just two eyes watching a new face with the hugest smile ever,
a wave of positive feeling wrapping me up as my body sets into motion,
my feet moving under me (little alcohol, promise made to myself not to get drunk in the next few months) and it all works. the mind is silent. the heart begs for five minutes of break.
i dont even look around for men (what for, i have three sexy chicks to have fun with:)
yet i end uo dancing around with one (a friend of friends...) and he looks into my eyes as i step back to avoid a kiss i dont want (yesss!!!in control again!!!:)
i go to the bathroom (the same bathroom where i have almost fainted in realizing at a spagettata that his face had the smell of another female on it. how sure i was then! and how decieved! - anyways: past, gone, has to be forgotten),
so i enter the bathroom and i happen to overhear the most vulgar and disgusting of female-conversations ever: on how to humiliate 'an ugly' guy who kindly tries to get at someone. (bitches. - i think and look in the mirror to examine my face: nah. he is wrong, im not like them.)pale, but satistied i exit and enter the crowd outside.
on the way home at half past three i decide to eat a gyros, but standing at the busttop stuffing the food into my mouth i notice a terrifying thing: im shivering while eating. i dont understand. it is not that cold, and i dont even feel cold. i stop eating. the shivering stops. as soon as i put a bit of food in my mouth i restarts. i spend three minutes trying to understand what's going on and finally i locate the source: my stomach. it is as if some sort of a football or rugby world champinship was taking place inside. i note that i have to force eating. i cannot afford to lose more weight. (would be the stupidest thing to end up in hospital just because a man called me names.)
i re-enter. the house is asleep. i take a quick shower, jump into my nightdress, put on the alarm for the morning and fall asleep. safe night. no dreams, five hours later i awake and feel fit, get up...and there it is: my stomach.
i crawl between the covers, switch on the tv to wathc the morning-series, and send down some food only to spend the rest of the morning running in-and-out of the bathroom.

then something changes: and suddenly, in the course of half an hour i have two job-interviews organised.
objectives, focus, wash your hair, dress decent and so on.

then work. kids. hugs. kisses. everybody loving Freddy - and life goes on.

just as Ammaniti writes in the book im reading (ti prendo e ti porto via) -
'la cosa, si disse, sarebbe passata perché nella vita le cose passano sempre, come un fiume. anche le piú difficili che ti sembra impossibile superare, e in un attimo te le trovi dietro alle spalle e devi andare avanti. ti aspettano cose nuove.'
(=all things pass as the woter of a river running towards the ocean.even the shittiest things, the ones you thought you'd not overcome, you find behind you all of a sudden and you have to keep on going ahead. there are new things awaiting you.)

and so i try to feel happy for possibly-maybe jobs, the family dinner planned for tonight, ect.
standing on the scale mobile (shit, how do you say that in english?) i re-think and decide i wont forgive easy this time. noone has tha right to call me a bitch because i have slept with a man a month (or god knows) after it was 'said' to be over between us (keep in mind it was never 'said' that it ever started or lasted.... - ehi. a relationship with no beginning or contect, just an end.sound interesting enough). he was angry and other things okay, pushed deep in a mass of emotions, okay. but he should have known he has no right to say certain things.

and he does. arriving home i find two lines in my mailbox: sorry (short.honest.)
i switch the computer off, back on, read it, reread it, memorize it, forget it
think about whther i should answer. or what to answer. should i tell him things i think would make him understand how wrong he was in thinking i just went off with a total stanger? no. yes. no. yes. dunno.
should i call a friend and ask what she'd do? no. no. yes. maybe. nonono. i have to do this alone.
for once, after so many years i am extremely angry. and therefore my reactions are honest. maybe not right but honest.

so i keep silent.
i dont write anything.
and though it takes me two hours of sufference to keep the food down
i decide even not to care about that.
in the worst case i lose some weigth. if it ever goes under 52 i go to the doctor. this time i wont make an arse of my mouth.
i dont have to beg him for forgiveness.

if he chooses to think im a slut, let it be.
i know i am not.
maybe it wasnt wise to sleep with that guy i didnt love.
but it doesnt make me a bad person.

i have been faithful to him while officially being only 'his hungarian' (slut added by him later).
and right now i have no wish to keep struggling.

it will pass.
he there, me here
(next time we meet maybe only some empty hello, and we walk by)
his loss is bigger
im onyl haunted by his smell stuck in my norstrils.