Hey blog, dear diary, it has been pretty fucking long.
Usually, when I disappear off the net, it is usually for the same old, same old, I am sad, I am tired, it is way too overwhelming, I feel like I can't do this anymore... And yet every time, I believe truly, deeply in it, every single time feels like the last alarm I could bare to ring before I break into a million pieces yet again.
I don't know is it me, or is it life, telling me that "hey, may be it is time to change up some shit". "you know, you can handle, you can control shitty, might as well throwing some into your place that makes you totally confuse and unprepared right??"
So, let me start up again.
Holy shit I am so distracted with love, I can't do shits.
When you have been around in a dark room for your entire life, you know it's dark because you have heard that the lights are beautiful, but you are fine with it. Fine with it because you have never knew better, fine with it because once you are okay with the darkness, it can be your really good friend. Fine with it because you don't want to have a single ray of hope, unless you are sure it will stays, because you know the darkness can get darker and darker from within. Yet, someone has walked in, telling me that he is staying here in the dark with me; but me, myself, I am the one who stands up, get my hand on the handle, and push the door, kicking it swinging out for the first time ever. He, here with me forever and ever is such a tempting, tempting thoughts, but I can't bare something so full, so wonder, being chewed up and swallowed up by my own kinds, so I rather stand before something I have never ever seen before, being in a place that makes me questions everything I have, everything I am, rather than risking the chance of him being slightly sad.
Holy love, holy shit, something most unexpected, yet so predictable, so unbearable yet you realized why baring it at all.
You guys know, I have been writing a book, a book about my life, which should have been published months ago. I couldn't write it, I couldn't finish it, I can't figure out a happy ending to write. So, I do what I do best, I ran away. I took the train, to somewhere in the middle of Vietnam, rent a bike, and just like that keep heading South until I reached the bottom of Vietnam of seas and sands. If I were on my own, yeah, it still would be an ending to write, it would be me finding more things deep down in the ocean, but it is still the cliche, the cliche of me, sadness from finding nothingness. So it turned out I found instead, the greatest cliche of all, the most humane cliche,I found love, and I found life.
My very close friend, my photographer for my almost everything, he was planning a journey across Vietnam to shoot photos for his clothing brand, and he asked me to come with but I didn't go. He had another best friend, who he has known for almost his entire life, who he has asked to come with, but didn't go either. I didn't know this person, for some reason, I just don't know my best friend's other best friend, which was strange enough. Stranger, I somehow, last minute, jumped on the trip, and somehow, I messaged this best friend of best friend dude, who I have never talked to before, and ask if he would come with. He, strangest, said yes. We don't know why, why don't know how, but we said yes to each other before we knew anything, but we also said yes later when we have known "almost" everything.
I broke up with my boyfriend of almost six years for something that I didn't know if it was even something. But this something made me realize, what we had was nothing. It wasn't love, it was commitment, it was simply something I grew so used to. I surprised myself when I called it off, I feel nothing, not the slightest thing. Trust me that I never ever wanted to be cruel, I truly care, deeply care so much for him more than anything. But that was what made me realize, I don't need to love him to care for him, and I rather do it now then keeping a lie. Even if me and my now-husband never got together, and that is highly likely because truly nothing did happen when I broke it off with my 6 years boyfriend: i always believe if there is a first, there will never be a second.
On the train to the middle of Vietnam, it started out normal: We tripped together on LSD. I have never hide the facts that I love drugs, may be not love, I need drugs, all kinds of drugs to keep me sane. He however, never before, and I don't know how but he trusted me and it was his first time. If you say that drugs made this happen, you have never used drugs. It doesn't invent you, it just helps you discover yourself. And 12 hours on the train, it felt like 12 years. Two strangers, talking about everything strange, about the universe, about what we could be. Just twelve ours, 2 LSD blotters, boxes of cigarette, our brains do unimaginable things to each other, while our body sit tight. When the sun rose, we feel like we have been going on a journey for a life time , I swear I see his hair all getting gray, yet we have not even reach to our destination, to the start of a journey. Yet from then, it wasn't what he feels, it wasn't what I feel anymore, it became us.
Accross Vietnam, every city. Dark, Cold, to Bright, Shine, Busy, Empty, Loud, Strange, plainly Horrible. Every state of emotions, we went through on our motorbike. I look like shits. We looks like shits. Never brush our teeth for days. Sleeping in tents, shivering and awkwardness, we pass through it all like it is some level one video game. Morning, we never touch, we just walk around talking about everything, when our friends turn around, we exchanged a quick kiss. Night comes, we jump at each other like animals, we are literally animals, bare with just instinct.
I got sober. Just that easy. I don't know how, but I think I got addicted to him instead of everything else. He literally, walked into the dark with me, tried to understand it first, before taking my hand and got me out.
Friends that come with us, they sense something was going on, but yeah they ask, is it a fling, is it a crush? I laugh, he laugh, don't ask us what is going on, because we honestly don't fucking knows, we really don't. We are too busy with everything, we are too busy with our minds and everything else beside our minds, we can't wait to imagine the things we would do to each other for each other, so we never once ask "what is it going to be". Because it is already it, this is it, why looking for an ending for a book we just briefly got started on?
On our train, back to Hanoi, he asked me for the first time: "What if I don't see you when I come home"
I said: "well then let's just keep going".
Not every book ends with a happy ending, but now I know, not every happy ending ends there. At that moment, I truly believe if we come back home now and we never talk again, that is as simple to understand as love. But if we got married as soon as we come home, that is as simple to understand as love as well.
Now you all know, how my happy never ending happened:we got married.
I, a month ago, said to our best friends: I will never ever get married. I can't imagine why, it is a contract, for dumb fucks, I don't need that kind of hassles and shits. But now I know, it is more like a certificate to proof,how dumb you can be for love. The night before it happened, we made promises to each other, for the first time. He tell me he will be great, because I told him he could be pretty fucking great. I made him promise if it is, for whatever reason, I am not here with him anymore, He never ever fucking slow down. Own it. The world is his.
I made him promise that, because I never can imagine what could happen to the kid that lived her whole life in a dark room, when being pulled out in the light. Seeing everything clears, I burn or I shine, I don't fucking know.
He made me promise that now I must remember, I am never alone anymore. Oh how true that is?
Our wedding: we just go sign some paper, pay a payable jokable amount of 1$, and then get our wedding ring tattooed, a question mark. Because still, we don't know what the fuck is going on, we are not sure what is tying us together here, but it is surely not the wedding ring.
I have found the happy ending to my own stories. Now it is time I write the story for us, the stories of us.
p.s: photo by our best friends, who, I thank with all my heart, despite not understanding what the fuck is going on all the fucking time, support us with all of his heart
we know each other for exactly a month now
our trip accross our country and back was 10 days
and we got married after 12 days