I swear I do

I've lost the need, the urge, the habit of leaving little pieces of myself on this blog. It makes me sad in some strange, because I like writing, like being read, like reading what I wrote and understanding myself a little better. This blog was created as a means to express things I thought I couldn't, or didn't know how to express in 'real' life. Maybe I've outgrown it, maybe I've gained courage and started speaking my mind when I feel necessary, thus ending the need to vent my frustration in written words. So maybe this will be the last time I write here. Maybe my time is up. Maybe it's time to move on. Maybe I just need a little push, and this blog is over, hidden, forgotten. Even thought the memories inked here will never, ever fade, Becca thinks it's time to say 'Adieu' and move on with her life. The frustrated, different teenager has now become a spirited, understanding woman, one that faces the world and shouts as loud as possible. So Becca is on the move. Look out, she might be coming your way! P.S. Thank you, yes you, you know who you are, because you have helped make me who I am. And there is no more resentment, ok? I've made my peace, maybe you could try and find yours? See you around, maybe. I know our paths have crossed, and entwined, more than I ever thought possible. Maybe we will meet again, in another life. Because no matter what, really, I think you were the love of my life. I've just outgrown that love.

Nobody said it was easy.

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life."


I have wanted to write something for so long. But words don´t come, only floods of tears.
I´m so tired of crying, crying over something that cannot be undone. I hurt you, you feel hurt, and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing I say or do is ever going to change the way things happend. But the truth is that it is over. And it kills me a little bit more every day. Life isn´t all sunshine and rainbows. Life is cloudy skies and raindrops, because, just as you are hurting, so am I.
There are no miracle words I can write, no amazing explanation that will make you feel better. I´m so sorry, truly. I wish there were. I wish some amazing logical explanation popped in to my head this very instant, and made everything clear again.
All I know is that what I felt, the deep, binding, TRUE, incredible love is no longer there. I wish it was, I really do. How simple life would be if everyday was the same, if everyday I was greeted by a smile and a kiss, rather than silence and odd looks. How I wish that I loved you enough to walk up to you and put my arms around you, and make everything ok again. But I can´t. That one step, that one step that led me straight of the cliff edge was the only step I needed to make our lives a mess. All that we had worked so hard for, all that we had planned, dreamed, imagined, all that went tumbling off the edge, just like I did. I´m sorry. But sorry doesn´t cut it, I know. Sorry will never cut it. I sneer at the very word, because it is totally useless, unworthy, insignificant even. Sorry won´t make your wounds heal, and your heart open again.

I miss you. Truly. Being in the same room with you is turture. Walking past you in the corridor and feigning indiference makes me feel cheap. How can I be indiferent to someone who meant so much to me?? How can I pretend I´m ok with the situation? How can I strug it off, and put it in a little box somewhere at the back of my mind? I can´t. It can´t be done. So every day I start the day thinking "It´s all going to be fine" and every day it isn´t. I guess it is a suited punishment for what I did. I broke you, and now I´m intent on breaking myself, bit by bit, pulling myself apart every time our eyes meet across the room, everytime a memory slips past my walls, everytime that song plays on my Ipod. And I haven´t taken it off. Maybe I enjoy the pain. Maybe if I suffer enough, I will find peace.

Believe me, I know it isn´t easy for you. But it isn´t easy for me. I disapointed you, I get it. Never again will I be let in, I know. And I bet you hate the very idea of every loving again, bet you say to yourself that next time you won´t let it happen. Please don´t give up on love. It does exist. I did love you, more that I can undersand myself, more that you will care to believe. So, every time you walk past me in the corridor, I wonder if you can hear me screaming your name in my head. Every time our eyes meet across the room I wonder if you can see the tears brimming.

I´m losing the will to go on. I´m losing my strengh, and I´m desperately looking for the big flashing sign that says exit. I wake thinking of what I did, spend my days trying to understand myself, and every time I lay down to sleep, in this bed that we shared so many nights in, I wonder how I´m going to make it. And I wonder if I want to make it. If I disapeared, things would be easier, I think. 'Out of sight is out of mind'.
So I´ll be seeing you. And don´t blame me, don´t blame yourself. Because it isn´t by blaming someone that it will be different, believe me, I´ve tried.

And I´ll never forget that boy on the number 60 bus. You are imprinted on my skin, in my mind, and in my life. Thank you for what you gave me, for what you taugh me, and for letting me G(r)O(w).

For All the Good Times

Thank you. Thank you for being in my life. Thank you so much for letting me go, for setting me free. But most of all thank you for all you did, for all we lived, for all the things we experienced together.
There is no way to explain what I did. Even I don´t know what went wrong. Was it the distance? Was it boredom? Was it just me pulling one of my stunts? Somewhere along the line I turned into a stranger, a stranger to you, and a stranger to me.

Will I regret it? I don´t know. I don´t regret what we had, what we did. I don´t regret all the love I felt, all the love I gave, all the love I recieved. I will never regret that. You won´t get closed away in my memory box, because you are right there. And I hope to God you will still be there, when I turn around, when I need a friend. Because I will. I´ll be there. Of course, saying this, I know I have no right to ask you to be there. You need to go on, and maybe to go on, you need to leave me behind. I know. It makes me sad, but sometimes, we have to let go.

See, you say you don´t know me anymore, that you think you never really knew me. Let me tell you, you knew me. You still know me. I bet, if you look at me, you can see right through me. You always did. Believe it or not, that´s my truth.

And some day, if you ever forgive me for being who I am, you will let me be your friend. I need you. Sometimes I just want to pick up the phone and call you, just to hear your voice. But how can I? How can I do that? I can´t just phone and say "Hey, how you doing? Everything good?". That is silly. I would feel silly.

I didn´t mean to hurt you. But I need to do what feels right.

La Revolución

Tired.
Bored.
Lost.
Scared.
They never said she would feel all theses things. All they spoke of was the good moments, the sunshine, the parties, the people. But, actually, they forgot the rest. Maybe eventually she will too. But right now the light on the horizon is far away, and every day she runs faster, but it doesn´t get any closer...it seems to taunt her, just out of reach, just around the corner, around the next...no, maybe, maybe the next.

And the worst thing is feeling angry. Angry at herself for not being stronger, for not partying more, for not enjoying more. It is slipping through her fingers, and all she does is count the days until she gets on that plane, off, and into her mothers arms. ´

Growing up is not fun, no matter what people say.

She Won´t Go

All her life, she has dreamed about setting off, breaking free, living on the edge.
In two days, she will start a life that will be a mix and match of all she has ever wished for. And she is scared shitless, absolutely terrified. She keeps looking for the exit, as she speeds toward that inevitable day, the baggage, the flights, the languague.

The NEW.

It is literaly just around the corner, but she is digging her heels in to the ground, not wanting to move, hating every goodbye, even the simplest. Tears keeps running down her cheecks, a mere song on the radio, a smell, a smile, reduces her to a puddle of salty water.

Saying goodbye is hard. Especially when everybody else moves faster, keeps moving, goes forward, and all she wants to do is close her eyes, wake up in her bed to sweet silence, drink a cup of coffee with her mum, and slowly watch her world wake.

Deep down, she can´t wait to be free. But the feeling is lost beneath a blanket of sadness, sadness because what is "normal" will no longer be. As sure as she needs air, next week she will feel italian, will have forgotten the sadness, the tears, and will be knee deep in a wonderful new life.

Heres to the future.

Sweet Little Becca

"And I hate when things are over -
When so much is left undone."



I have a immensity of feelings, emotions, moments, memories whirling in my body, my soul, my brain. I desperately want to share them with you, I need you to understand every little detail. Nothing, and I mean nothing compares, nothing has ever felt so real, so amazing, and yet so painful. Nothing has ever lifted me up so high, nothing has ever made me fear the end with such intensity.
I want to shout it from the rooftops, but I can´t find the words. I want to spray paint it on walls, tattoo it on my body, I want to give this, what we have, a sense of eternity. I know nothing lasts for ever, everything changes, our perspectives change, just as our needs change.
But whatever the future holds, whatever paths we wander, no matter how far apart we roam, I will never forget this feeling, this amazing, wonderful, binding feeling.

It´s the most fantastic feeling, but strangely, sometimes it´s so good it´s bad.
I´ve given myself to somebody else, heart, body and soul. Given myself up, and that makes it scary. I can never walk out that door, never say goodbye and mean it. I just can´t. I love you more that I can even feel. It swells above, around, beyond me. It´s bigger than me. Sometimes I fell so lost in it that I just need to do something to remind me who I am, without you, for fear of becoming a part of you and ceasing to exist on my own. I know it is hard to understand the logic, but it is there, somewhere.

And more than a year later, I can´t live without you. I breath because you do, I smile when you smile, cry when you do. I care about every little thing. I watch you and my heart races, my mind goes blank and I thank whatever forces that lead me to you. We have come so far, and the road ahead is long and winding, but we make the rules. I promise I will never turn out the light.

Pretty pretty please, don´t ever ever leave.

You Can Call Georgia

I´m lost in mountains of papers, hours of typing, snatched meals and stolen kisses on a 3 minute break.
But today I had to go outside. I love windy days, when the sun is shinning strong, but the breeze keeps me cool. And I love my city, even though I hardly know it at all.
This year one of my classes is "Urbanism", and we had the privilege of attending an outdoor class, because my teacher believes that you learn about cities and towns by wandering the streets and exploring dead ends. So we did. And I learned to look up, up, up. When you are walking somewhere, don´t look down. Stare up at the buildings, see the windows, the verandas, the chimneys, the different roofs. You will enter a whole different world, mark my words. These days we walk from A to B, with our headphones in our ears, and our eyes on the ground. Today I went out, and stood proud, stared long and hard, and embraced my passion of windows and doors - the communication points of our houses.



Soundtrack for those dull afternoons of study: http://www.esnips.com/doc/02ba4273-e8ff-4819-ae04-ed8963c856ad