Life in Ink and Footsteps

I mean, we all saw it coming. It was not only inevitable but also needed on a level that I forgot about. Reading about this relationship after almost a decade showed so many red flags and behavioral problems on both sides, that I am really glad I went through with the move to America and had a chance to run away from it and see it with a clearer mind from a different perspective. Don’t think I was without blame, or that I was some kind of a victim in a shitty relationship. Oh no, no Sir. I was delusional and selfish. I was afraid of who I was so I lied and tried to be someone else. I blamed him for everything instead of looking in the mirror at my own faults. I didn’t listen to his words and concentrated on my own needs. I was an asshole. Now, don’t feel bad for him either. Cause he was absolutely the same but 20 years my senior. So he should have known a little better.

So how did we get from a puppy in love to the end of the whole love story? Well, first of all, quickly. I mean it’s not even the end of the first month. Second of all, with some ugly messages and hurtful words. We tried Skyping throughout the time, but everyone who did a long-distance relationship knows that that shit is hard. The time difference did not help, his busy schedule and my inability to deal with my emotions healthily either. I couldn’t cope with the pain, so I prefered not to think about it. Which meant my messages were cold and factual just as our calls. I didn’t want to be romantic or repeatedly tell him that I missed him and vice versa. The more I crawled into myself, the more he pushed. That led to friction and tension. As you can see a proper example of healthy communication skills. Until on a random Wednesday morning, I received a message. Not very nice one, let me tell you. Long story short, he didn’t wish to be in contact anymore. And that was it. My reply was “Good luck” and then I went on with my day.

But then the night came. And I cried. And then I cried some more. I was tired and I was really, really fucking lonely. This whole transition was hard, more so than I am writing about it here. But who wants to read about the constant gloominess, hard adjustment, and teenage tantrums? Who cares that I dropped out of college, broke up with my long-term boyfriend, and fell in love with this person a mere few weeks before moving to the US? Who cares that I had no Czech community around me, I spoke only in a language that was not my native and that I hardly controlled out of the day-to-day communication. That I had a child to care for and help raise, a child that was going through the hard adjustments that are connected to the teenage years. Those were all my decisions and I had to be accountable for them. But fuck me, I was lonely, I was oh so lonely.

Wanna hear when I realized I am not doing well? When I had a panic attack in the food store, because I couldn’t find what I wanted to eat in that massive place. So I didn’t get it, didn’t really get most of the groceries I was meant to buy, paid for the little I already had in a basket, sat in a car, and cried. This little, unimportant thing was the last straw and completaly broke me down.

So when this break-up message came, calling me selfish and uncaring it was like the floods open and all the water came rushing in. It was painful, scary, and overwhelming. It left me bare and hurt. But it brought goodness as well. Everything was cleaned out. And was open to the new beginning.

And what was the new beginning? Tinder. What else, when you’re 21 newly single on a whole new continent? I poured my little heart out the some of the other au-pairs I was in contact with in the area and I was recommended to dive down the rabbit hole of online dating. And dear me, did I dive right down like the little Alice. I am happy to report I did not wallow in depression for too long and started swiping. This was a whole new world for me. I had no idea what Tinder was, or what online dating was in general I never did that. I had no idea what to say or write, how to communicate or what did I want. So I just went for it. And I had my first date not that long after it. Once again we can see how memory works, cause, of course, not only did I not remember this specific date, but I completely forgot this person. I swear to Goddess I thought my first date was with someone else. But let’s leave that for later. This real first date was, supposedly, a cute 24-year-old geeky student M. who I met up with for a Yolo. Also, Yolo for life. Damn,  I can’t believe I forgot about Yolo and didn’t get it when I was visiting New York a few weeks ago. Well, that’s just sad. And yes, I am sad about forgetting Yolo while not caring in the slightest about this person and all the others. And yes, there will be many others. Back to the M. he didn’t pay and didn’t have a car so I drove around, which seems like I didn’t mind, but was kinda surprised he didn’t get me at least the Yolo. I mean, it is just a frozen yogurt. And I agree with my young self. I don’t think that man has to pay for absolutely everything. But if you plan an activity and the activity has to be paid, you should cover it. If you are broke, make a fucking picnic or go for a nice hike in nature, attend some free-to-join workout or artsy thing. There are many options. If you want to take her for food, it’s your decision, you pay. Excuse my rant. Anyway, long story short, I thought he was cute, we met one more time, I paid for myself again, did some cuddle sessions and I have never seen him again and forgot he existed. I met with others, and most of them turned out to be just as unimportant and forgettable as the first one, but some were not only memorable but stayed in my life for many upcoming years.

This got a little longer than I expected, but it felt right to share—being vulnerable and open. People often told me I was lucky to experience all I did. But there was no luck involved. It was dedication, hard work, and the courage to take difficult steps. It wasn’t always fun and games; it was hard, scary, sad, lonely, frustrating, and disappointing. I’m not brave because I don’t feel fear; I feel it deeply. But I refuse to let it conquer me.

Kind of obvious.
Hurt – Johnny Cash