Sunday, Jan. 15, 2012 - 10:17 pm.
I am overwhelmed with work. I have two elective courses and their assignments, my thesis project presentation, a research paper, an essay and a massive test. All within three weeks.
This past week was all about one of the elective courses, a class on SPSS that I enjoyed a lot and taught me so much, but it was killer being there everyday from 9 am to 6 pm. Andrew also had a rough week, though he wasn't taking that class. We take small breaks to enjoy each other but we know these weeks are to focus on finishing everything on time and well. It's hard not having time to be with each other, even if we're in the same room; but at least we're both going through the same thing, so we're both busy on nearly the same things.
Andrew and I are also running with paperwork, him applying to a scholarship so he can quit his job and dedicate 100% of his time to the master's activities, me, to renew my student visa for this year.
This isn't a fun entry at all, but truthfully, I haven't had fun in what feels like ages. This semester ends on the 21st and only then we will breathe with relief, go to the movies, mail packages, meet with friends and plan our february holiday. I cannot fucking wait, but with all the work I still have to do, it feels like that day will never come. One a day at a time, right?
I won't even celebrate my birthday, that day I'm scheduled to present my thesis project in front of my class and another class and professors, and I've seen how those things go; they may tear me to pieces. Andrew presents his thesis project the day after so certainly there won't be any nice dinner out the night of my birthday, but at least by then I'll be free of all assignments. The 20th and 21st, I just have to attend and watch my peers shine or crash like me.
I'm planning on celebrating next week, though, since I've never thrown myself a party before. I'm not so much into it, but you know, it's my first birthday abroad and I have my own place and all that. I'm thinking of doing it just because I can.
Wait...Andrew and I did something fun over a week ago. We had a date. Sure, we stayed home, but he bought wine and cheese and it was a lovely evening. We had a lot of grown-up talk about us, about the future, about getting married and about the options once my scholarship is up at the end of the year (I confess: I'm scared). Among the madness of these weeks, we've been talking a lot about marriage, but we still have a long way to go.
Also among this madness, Joseph keeps invading my mind from time to time. I try to keep those thoughts away by saying that I should only continue thinking this stuff (say, things I'd tell him about how much he hurt me) if he gets in touch with me or I get the chance to speak my mind in front of him. That's not happening so why worry and let it get to me?
This afternoon I had a surprising attack on my senses. I came home from running some errands and the house smelled and still smells like his bedroom. I don't know what it is...if Andrew bought the exact same cologne or a mix of stuff I can't identify. I didn't feel bad, I just thought it was remarkable to sense that smell again. And right then, Andrew is blasting music in the other room: "Dig" by Incubus. One of the songs that are guaranteed to take me back to Joseph's bedroom, because he used to play it all the time. Incubus, 90s grunge and the like. The type of music Andrew was listening to.
Like I said, I didn't feel bad, I didn't feel melancholy. Quite the contrary, I felt lucky. I felt lucky to be taken back to what once was my home: Joseph, his bedroom; I thought I'd lost those things forever. It gave me that sense of warmth that being there, being with him gave me. When I was with him, I kind of felt like I had it all, even if I didn't. I love this smell (I don't know what it is!), I love those songs. And I love where I am right now.
But you know, surprising that I took it so well. Most of the times I get stuck in an image, like picturing the moment his now wife knocked on his door for the first time. That moment, man. I wasn't even there, I don't even know what really happened, but that was my demise. I can imagine her thinking of going back to him, and his heart jumping in his ribcage like it hadn't in a while (I think it had been a while since he got tired of me), his eyes lighting up when he saw her after so long, and then his concern as to what to do with me. He probably wouldn't say it with that word, but in that moment I wasn't just a burden, I was an obstacle.
Yeah, ok, see? That's how my mind flows! I don't notice it until my heart starts to break. This is when I stop and try to get distracted. It's harder these days, but it's just one more week of hard work, and then I'll be free and I'll be 27.
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