„Can you help me out and tell me the story of us, from beginning to end. Because the story I have of it is bad. I never could write a proper story, much less live one. Most of my stories are told by removing everything shitty and the story is told by the holes left behind. I wish I could completely disregard every fear and bad feeling so that every memory is a good one but that is not possible. What gets left is just an endless serial of what if’s to a red thread that could have been the real story. If I were to share my story of it, I don’t know what would be worse, that I would be right or that I would be wrong. Because every terrible reason I’ve justified with a divine reason and I don’t know which one I could stand to lose, if any of them. (I can’t sleep.)“
Here is my version of our story:
I always wanted to write our story down, but I never did. I guess I was afraid to face the truth, look behind all the miracles. See the shadows behind the light. Maybe I was afraid to dig down and show my real feelings, my thoughts.
Let’s start at the beginning. We met on Chatroulette, June 2015. I was, or well I am, obsessed with Sweden, that was my main reason not to klick next. I wanted to talk to a Swede, easy as that. Maybe learn some new words. I was bored in my room. I can remember, last week of school before our big summer break. I lost my phone, that’s why I had to stick to my laptop.
We talked about everything. When I think back, it’s like we really talked about everything and nothing. After some time we added each other on Skype, but stayed connected on Chatroulette for over 24h. And to be honest, back than I thought this was faith. Cause staying connected for that long straight, without any problems, is pretty amazing. The fact, that he was super cute helped me to make the decision that I wanted to stay in touch with him.
I liked him from the very first second. I mean, he was Swedish, handsome and funny. We kept talking for moths. We talked via Facebook and Skype. Then we lost contact for a few months. I don’t know why, but it happened. And somehow we started texting again. And then, I fell in love with him. I could never believe that I could be in love with someone I don’t know. With someone who lives thousands of km away from me. With someone who doesn’t even speak my language. Oh yeah, you have to know that back than my English wasn’t as good as it is now. Yeah, blabla, it was good but I wasn’t confident enough to talk English. He always told me that I shouldn’t be shy and just talk but I wasn’t ready. After some time, of course, I started talking. English. I always liked English but talking it nearly 24/7 was little bit heavy at the beginning. Finding the right word to say was hard. But I made it. We made it. Somehow.
We always wanted to meet up. But, how? Where? When? I couldn’t fly out to meet him, because I needed to go to school. And he made the first step. And I am so grateful for that. He visited me in Vienna, February 7th-14th 2016. He stayed in a hostel, cause there were no other opportunity. I lived in a dormitory and I wasn’t ready to take him home to my family. I mean, we knew each other 8 months, just via internet. How should I explain that to my (very strict and conservative) parents?
In this week of him being around, we grew so much closer. It felt so right. Everything. We celebrated his birthday together and even Valentines Day. I thought, this was such a romantic move of him, to stay this long just to spend this time with me. I was in love. Madly. Deeply.
After that week, we got together. Officially. Well, not that officially. Everyone bothered me with asking who this guy in my Snapchat story is, so I started saying “that’s my boyfriend”. I got tired of explaining. Tired of waiting. Tired of this something. I was in love. I wanted to be with him. So, I told him that he is my boyfriend. He was like “okay”. That’s our story. At least the story of how we got into this relationship thingie.
We had to wait 5 months, until we meet again. In this 5 months it was hard for me. It was hard, not being around the guy I love. Not being able to hug him. Not being able to wake up next to him. I started to think that this Long Distance Thing is shit. I kind of wanted to end it cause it was hurting me so much. But I couldn’t. I loved him way too much to end it. I survived, somehow. We talked through day and nights. We shared everything, or at least I did.
Time has come, it was my turn to visit him. My parents allowed me to visit him2 weeks. I was so excited. It was my first trip alone. Like, I had to drive to the airport, alone. I had to check in, alone. I had to travel alone. That was exciting. I was nervous, but exciting. The first week with him was amazing, we had each other really 24/7. It felt so good to be with him, to be around him. To be able to feel him. This Long Distance thing wasn’t good for us. We needed that time together. I needed this time with him. As I said, the first week was amazing, we did some great things. He showed me around, we had fun. But the second one was rather not amazing. He had to work, so he was gone most of the time. So we had just a few hours together and that was shit. I thought about if It has been the right decision to stay two weeks. I really thought about that, multiply times. And I came to the conclusion, that it didn’t matter.
In this two weeks, I met the real him. I met his family, his friends, I saw his place. I got to know how he lived. We borrowed a car and explored everything. We felt so mature. We felt like a proper couple. Living together, spending time together, experience different things together. It felt good. It felt right.
And than, like a month after I visited him, he broke up with me. Yeah, I saw it coming but it still hurt. It still hurts. He told me, that we need to talk, but I wasn’t home for 2 weeks straight, so he waited with talking to me. And I swear, that were the two most horrible weeks ever. Because I knew, something was wrong. I knew, that he may end it. I knew it, but he wouldn’t talk to me until I was home.
I started a blog in March I guess. I started it as a storage for my articles for church. But after some time, I started writing down my feelings, my thoughts. And now, at the moment, it has become more like a diary. But nevermind, that is not what I wanted to say. I own a blog and uploaded my thoughts and feelings about him. He read that. And after that he changed. The way he talked to me. He really changed. And I knew, that it was the blog. But I didn’t understand.
And I think, this is the main reason why he broke up with me. He told me, that he couldn’t understand, that we didn’t feel the same. I cannot remember what he exactly told me. He also told me that he couldn’t stand the distance any more. And than I started kind of an argument. I mean, we knew that this distance would be between us. We knew, that it wouldn’t be easy. But I was ready for this experiment. I was ready for this relationship. And he wasn’t. At least not as ready as I was.
All this time, he helped me through so many things. I am so thankful for having him in my life. He helped me with depression, with school stress, with family drama. He stood by my side as no one else did. He was here, when I needed someone. He listened to me. Thank you, really, thank you. I don’t know if he knows that. He has been such a rock in my life. He got me to think about everything twice. He really made me think about things I always knew but never thought about. And I appreciate that.
For me, this relationship has been positive. Straight through. Yeah, there were some up and downs, and the ending wasn’t the ending I expected. But that’s life. Really, for me, is was a positive experience.