Mode of Living

Ethan left, and I don’t feel very much to be honest. May be because this time I know I’ll be seeing him in a matter of months, so there’s not much for my imagination to speculate upon. It’s difficult to feel sad or lonely because I was traveling with him, and now I’m grounded, without it. The situations are too vastly different for me to feel like I’ve lost someone that was an essential part of a regular routine. He was something I wanted and still want to do, and did and will carry on doing. There’s nothing much to think about. I care for him very deeply, and feel very tender towards him, and his emotions scare me sometimes –he’s got quite the imagination honestly, and god-awfully melodramatic. I think he’s got a rather fine capacity for self-pity… in too many ways he’s like me. Especially when it comes to playing on other people’s feelings. For a boy, I dare say he’s quite… well, he doesn’t believe that hiding how he feels is particularly masculine. I’m glad though, it makes me feel like I’m a really comfortable person to be with, and I like that. I hate people trying to hide things for me. What ever in the world for, I’ll accept it anyway.

I thought finally getting to meet him, the boy I thought would get my life in order (at least stick my promiscuity on a stick or hold it on a leash). It didn’t. The things is, my life is not not in order, it’s the way it is, and it’s the way I like to live. Promiscuity is a lifestyle I suppose, and I don’t want to help it, because honestly, there’s nothing to be helped. I’m not self-destructive, just a little without self-control.

Allright, what happened was that the morning after E left, I decided to ring up Élan (because I was hanging around his neighborhood the night I had to send Ethan off, and he saw me and invited me over to his place. I told him I wasn’t free. Then the next morning came, and I didn’t feel like going home yet, so I asked if I could stay over. We had a good conversation on the couch, and some drinks; he did not even so much so as try to hit on me. He never really wanted to fuck me in the first place from the start anyway, and even after I’ve slept with him a couple of times, he still felt and still feels platonic.

The sex was allright, nothing to go oh yeah about. For some reason, he just doesn’t perform well with me, and I think that may be bruising his ego a little. He got his best mate to ask me if I thought he was good in bed, I suppose when that happens, all is not well.

I was hanging around his apartment till late in the evening, when I felt like seeing Martine –whom I feel really close to at this point in time, despite him attempting to create a distance.- and he said I could drop by, after I took my luggage back to my parent’s place (you’re going to have to see them eventually!). I spent most of the afternoon writing and planning my novel (whether or not I eventually finish it is inconsequential. But I’m quite desperate to do so actually), and I realized that I wasn’t so much in love with particular individuals, as I was fascinated with them, and as I was in love with the situations they create within my life. It’s a mode of living that I’m in love with, and it doesn’t matter who enters my life and help me live that way; I appreciate all of them, but to quote Milan Kundera, with any individual and in any circumstance, ‘It could just as well be otherwise’. I could just as well live a mad-capped salacious life with Tom Dick and Harry as with David, Ronaldo and the dude from Kung Pow.

I thought that being with Ethan would help things along, would make me live more sensibly. You know, more like a teenage girl. As society thinks teenage girls should live. Of course chicks like Dee and the Princess and some other sirens some of the guys I’m dating are also simultaneously dating (I’m kidding, I’m not seeing anyone regularly these days, Martine aside. In case you know me and think that the guy you’re sleeping with is also sleeping with me, he isn’t. Élan doesn’t date, he drinks, fucks, and has a generally rather good time) anyway, these girls prove that dating one guy and practicing abstinence is just what the powers that be want everyone to believe in. Simply because they frown upon uh… libertine behaviour and want everyone to frown upon it as well. Although I cannot possibly see what good that does. Because people are so often proud of sinful deeds.

Goddamn, Ethan coming back into my life didn’t change me. It made me know what a silly twit I was to believe he could anyway. There was one particular album by Zazie that always made me feel nostalgic for him before my Indochine sojourn, and I listened to it today while walking to Martine’s, and I realized it didn’t make me feel very much anymore. Because you can only be nostalgic for things that you think may never be.

I always though maybe if I wrote a book about the past couple of years, I’d end it like a fairytale. Like getting grounded for good and being offered a EU citizenship or something (I’m being sarcastic; I’ve said it before, I will not and do not date for the sake of a foreign passport). Bullshit. People do not change, and I will never compromise the way I like to live for anything. Maybe when I decide to have children, I would say it would be very much preferable then of course, but before that? I don’t think so.

Martine was very pleasant today, although the sex wasn’t as great as it once was, for some reason I don’t know what which upset me a little bit while we were at it. I though maybe he saw me so often I wasn’t as charming anymore. My feelings for him are completely irrational, I know it and anyone would tell me so too. I find him completely sensual, and he captivates me, always. I don’t know what sort of effect I have on him. He’s so odd, his life is all rather odd. I have a feeling he’s mostly attracted to women he can’t have, and I know that’s a very normal thing, but I think it’s really something else with him. It’s almost as if now that I’m around rather a little too often, I’m not as psychologically desirable, and it bugs me. Of course I also found it all the more physically exciting when I couldn’t have him either…

But it was all quite odd today. He took a rather long time to come, and I though maybe it was my
fault, maybe I wasn’t that desirable anymore. I probably wasn’t particularly so today, and didn’t feel so either, but then again, that’s how I always feel when I invite myself over, as opposed to being invited by him. And he seemed all rather stressed up over Liz; and I felt a little jealous that she should have him helping her though school and through realizing her dreams and that my own damn biological father wanted to suppress mine.

I got terribly emotional talking to him about it; but it was really good to hear him tell me what I should do, because he’s just so real about these things. So real about doing what you love, and making the converse –doing what you don’t care for just for the sake of a guaranteed job thereafter- sound not only completely bland, but extremely stupid.

‘How do you know art is what you want to do? May be you won’t like it, may be you won’t be good at it.’
‘How do I know anything else is what I want to do? I’ve never attempted to study for a degree in business or philosophy or anything else for that matter, how do I know what is what I want to do? At least I’m sure about art, at least I know I want to do it now.’

M presented an even better argument. Aside from my art and creative writing, I didn’t do anything else unless I’m forced to. I’m immensely dedicated to them, and immensely bored of everything else.

xoxox