The rollercoaster

I silently eat my cereal and look outside. I'm not hungry. I haven't been hungry anymore since that last kiss. I don't want to go today. I don't want to leave the house, or even my bed. The ticket was already bought and Adriaan sent me a message asking if I would come.
The spoon gets heavier with each bite and I decide to stop. Oke, I'll go to the zilleghem folkfestival, but only because I don't want to waste the money and I don't want to disappoint people anymore.

 It's cloudy but it's not raining. I follow my mother everywhere like a baby duck and when she talks to people I try to join. But I'm just not energized enough. I feel like little Tineke, shy when strangers approach me and always wanting to hold mama's hand.
People are joyfully dancing to the music and when Adriaan reaches out his hand, asking me to dance I look at him with guilt. The dance is called the mazurka and it is a dance I and Tybo always shared. I feel mama's fingers dancing on my back and I turn around. I turn my face away because tears come out of nowhere. I can't stop and I only hear "it's oke."
I fight it all and when I feel it's safe again to turn around, Adriaan is dancing with someone else. I know he doesn't mind, but I feel incredibly lost and guilty. I drown myself in the apple juice I just ordered and drink it all. Goodness, I would have been drunk as hell if that would have been alcohol.
I fill the day with little Baldr and his beautiful mother Delphine, a good friend. I am amazed at how a child can bring such peace. I let myself get sucked up in his cuteness and I'm not letting him go for the rest of the day.

-

Words get poured in my book like never before. It's day two of the festival and my parents have to perform with their band. Adriaan and my good friend Emma aren't here yet so I disappear in my book. I started to write in it when Tybo left and since then haven't found the stop button. My nights are filled with vivid dreams and writing in between them. 

I finish the page and when I look up I see Tom, a good friend of my parents, talking to my mother. He looks at me and I know she is telling him why I'm so quiet. He comes to me and takes my arm.

"Come on lady, you're sitting with us, you don't have to sit here all alone." 

I smile gratefully. Happy that people tolerate my introvert side. 

The day is oke and I even have a little fun with Emma, who I haven't seen in such a long time. 

I enjoy the music and try to push away the "he would love this band so much" thought. 

When we go home I feel Martina's (Adriaans mother) hand on my arm.

She gives me a home made serum that smells like flowers. It's bright yellow and it's a tiny bottle. 

"What is it?" I ask.

"Its for your heart. Rub it on your heart and it will help you with your sadness."

I smile and hug her tight. I can't believe how good people are to me. 

-

I sigh and turn around once again. Once again sleep is just too far away. I am so tired...
It's tuesday the second of august, two a.m. in the morning. 

I have already written so much and I don't want to write anymore tonight. I look at Kastaar, my cat, who keeps me company now and then. He has been around more at night since we broke up and it's just what I need. I try to stop my train of thoughts by watching him but it does not work. 

Questions keep forcing themselves in my head and the frustration of not knowing angers me. 

How is he? 

Does he sleep well at night? 

Is he having fun? 

Is he lonely?

Is he relieved? 

Are girls flirting with him?

Is he going with it? 

I take the journal and ask answers from the pages. 

-

It's thursday, the fourth of august. I know he is leaving with his friends to a festival. I'm leaving tomorrow to the Dranouter festival that we were supposed to go together to. Tybo now goes to Castlefest.
The night was heavy again. I know this will be the hardest weekend yet to come. He will be there with our mutual friends and I'll be here, with my journal and my camera.
I will make up stories watching the flames of the late night bonfires while they will tell stories to each other. I slap myself and demand that I snap out of it. I tell myself that I'll be fine and I pack my bags. I'll be fine.
The evening falls again and I cry for the rest of the night, fighting to push demonic thoughts away and fighting even more to fall asleep.

The broken

I wish fitting words would come with the thousands of tears leaving my sore eyes right now.
But they don't. I have to find them myself.

I am tired. It's three a.m. when I look at my cat who joined me to bed a few hours ago. In an instant I feel jealous of his careless life. I turn around for the seventh time hoping to finally find my sleep. But I don't. I am frustrated, hurt and pretty damn scared. My gut tells me it's going to be tomorrow. Tybo and I will have separated by tomorrow. I don't know who will be brave enough to take the first step, but someone will. At three fifteen my exhausted body finally takes over and takes me away with a silent breath.

I watch trees flying by my car window. It is an hour and a half drive. My mom takes me to Berg for the last time. It will be the last time I'll see the house that once was filled with my childhood. The house where my grandparents lived and who have now both passed. I will see the house where our only true saint Nicolas visited, the street where we threw stones into the little canal. The village where all our biggest adventures formed us into who we are now. It will be a day of goodbyes. Big, hurtful goodbyes. I take photographs of the house that now is a little different because it is now the home of other people. I silently look at the cat that lies at the front door, as if he or she is protecting what is now hers.
I photograph the canal, the street name and the street. I take a little stone from their entrance, just to make sure I still got something from the house. I take six others from across the street and I sit on the little bridge looking down at the moving water, just like I did when I was little.
My mother lets me be. She takes a little walk while she shares her memories of this place with me and when it's enough for her she waits in the car. I take my time and take it all in.

When I get back in the car she takes me to other streets that are filled with memories. Some I remember, others are new and comforting to listen to. We visit my mothers old friends but none of them are home. It's oke, we love it anyway. She takes me to the sun forest. It was her backyard when she was little. We parked the car right in front of it, hoping it wouldn't get picked up by the police and we took a walk, sharing more memories, making more photographs and collecting more little treasures. I loved it. And even with the heavy-heart-thoughts, I still felt happy, that moment.

I get home and only see now that I got a message from Tybo. I was driving so didn't noticed my phone. He would come to my place. He would come and we would talk.

He takes me into his arms and after I'm done cleaning something up I follow him into the garden. We take a seat and get surrounded my chickens. They somehow feel like a silent support.
We talk, we feel, we touch, we hug, we cry and we love. We feel the same and we care equally. We sacrifice our longing for each other just so the other could be happy.
I tell him I'll honor him by wearing the necklace that he made me, and he'll do the same with the little treasure stone bag that I gave him. He shows me how he wears it and I feel an overflow of thankfulness. I smile and love him even more, if that would be possible.
I ask him if it would be oke to send him a message in a few days, just to see how he is doing. He says it's oke and I feel a huge relieve. I will know how he's doing. I will have the confirmation that he is safe and maybe even taken care of by friends.
I tell him how I hope we will still be buddies thirty years from now. Like life long back ups for each other.
We give each other our last most loving kiss, we hug as tight as we can and we let go. I follow him to his car and I wave him out for our last time.

My head spins as I go back inside and I run to Wulles grave right away. I message my mom and she calls me. She and my dad will be home as soon as possible. I lay my hand on the grave, missing every single thing that I love so god damn much. I cry and I cry and loneliness floats over me and darkens the moss that makes the grave so beautiful. It hugs me in a toxic way.
I realize that I forgot what is feels like to feel lonely, to be alone. Freaking hell, I don't remember how to be alone. I realize how he has become a big part of me, that now is gone. I lost a piece of my being, my "me".
Time flies and drags by slowly at the same time. I feel mama's hands on my arms and I start crying again.
"Oh my girl..."

I tell her I don't want to go inside because Tybo brought food and drinks for the bonfire we were about to organize with friends this evening. She tells me my dad is hiding it, so I won't have to see it. I tell her how I feel guilty for forgetting to give him money for what he bought and she comforts me saying that will be the last thing he will be thinking of. We will set it straight. Just as I will give him the chocolate bar that I wanted to give him for months but still forgot.
She tells me that if things need to be arranged, it will come, but for now we have to take care of ourselves. We have to find ourselves again and from there on see how everything evolves. How life wants us to walk our path. Together or apart.

I send a message to our friends saying that the bonfire is off, that I feel too hurt. Lode and Amber are still coming. They join me at the grave and later help me start the fire. Lode went to the store last minute to get chocolate and milk for making hot chocolate and Amber made a fruitmix.
I can not bare food in my mouth but eat out of gratitude. I hug them and painfully realize that those hugs are not Tybo's. That my ear won't touch his chest, that his arms won't squish my shoulders anymore the way only his can. I think of the festival that we were supposed to go together to. I think of how I won't feel safe anymore when stupid boys come running up to me, pouring water on my camera and calling me names. Because he won't be by my side.

I have a peaceful evening with my friends and even though I sometimes unwillingly miss half of their stories, I'm still glad that they came. They got my back. They don't mind me bursting into tears every five minutes.
I link every single little thing to Tybo, and for the upcoming weeks or months or even years, that will be the way it is. I will have to fight and I will sometimes drown. But as long as he's oke, I will be too. And in one way or another, I will stick my head above the water again because of that.

I try not to think of him seeing anyone else. The thought that other fingers will trace the tattoo on his arm that I drew for him is killing me.

It's now 2:45 am, tuesday. I look at the note he wrote me that is hanging above my desk and look at my bed. No Tybo. Only demons. Dark, annoying creatures that are waiting to tease me with memories. And for the first time I will not be able to take my phone to write the same thing I write every evening.

"Sleep tight my love, I love you and I'll see you tomorrow. <3"
"Sleep tight my bunny, I love you too, very much."

Flowerkisses

Driving trough endless green fields, that would be my endless destination in life.
That is what I am thinking while I pass the few little houses over and over again, trying to find one of those little houses in particular. Screw the gps, I want a little birdy who can guide me.
I've been looking forward to this shoot for a long time.
A beautiful mama contacted me saying her little Lucy turned one this month and she wanted something special to celebrate that. And although I knew this was going to have a commercial vibe, I jumped right in like I sometimes, pretty often, do when I see chocolate.

I park my car and call my mother, who knows the lady at the house we are using for the shoot. While waiting for the beep to change into mama's voice, I look around. Spring has finally found its way to us and flowers seem as thankful as I am. This is a good day.
I follow my mothers orders and go back to where I came from, and there it is. Laura isn't there yet either. I ring the doorbell and Ann opens the door with a smile you could probably see over in Tokio. She lets me in and shows her little paradise. A cosy, wooden little house, perfect for what I want to reach in my photos today. We talk and drink tea when Laura arrives with Arthur, her husband, and little Lucy.

In a wink of an eye I take my camera out and go into story making mode. I talk to the little family and realize how I missed this. Since I have a full time job I got stuck in expectations of bosses, working very hard for little money and the stereotypes of society and it has been killing me the past months. I look at lucy and smile at her innocence. Capturing the beauty of her untouched soul, that will be the goal for today. That, and the love that that little family shined out loud.

mind doodles under the sun

I feel the hay tickling between my fingers while the oh so familiar smell fills my heart with golden memories. The bunnies are playing in the garden. I watch them jump, run and play while I finish cleaning their little house. The weather is good today and it is what I needed. Mom and dad are also working in the garden and it feels like it used to. Spring is coming.

"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Can we make pancakes tonight? It would finish this day off perfectly."
"Oh, sure!"

Yes, now it is perfect.
I set myself down in the grass. It's still a little wet but the warmth of the sun is making up for it. I watch my bunnies go crazy and while I'm smiling because of it I think of the things that are happening in my life.
My job is going well. I love the children at the daycare centre and I miss them when I'm not at work.
I make things for them and prepare surprises and activities. I love it. I photograph them and post them on the facebook page and it makes me feel full. Because it is what I do. I photograph life and I feel lost when I don't.
But then again, I feel like a marionette. A mainstream part of society. I work for someone else now and my blog, drawing, story making and photographing is falling behind because of it. My dreams are pushed aside so I feel like all the others. "I have no time. Busy busy busy." The typical.

I cuddle Kato, my little crazy fluff ball while my mind wanders further off.

Change is making its way up to me again and I realize how hard it is on me every time.
T is preparing himself to move to his own place (he lives with me and my parents now) and I will join him later.
For me it is as exiting as it is frightening.
Will it change our relationship? Will it get weaker, stronger? Am I overthinking? Probably.

I make the dough while mom prepares the pans. T hugs me from behind and tells me he loves me. I love him too. I am so grateful to be able to love.