Still recovering from hardcore hangover, damn those screwdrivers! As if splitting headache weren’t enough, today I realized your sick language has EIGHT vowels. Not that it affects my determination to conquer it, but it does make me more aware of the lengths we go for love. On the other hand, I feel very grateful that you’re not a Hungarian or a member of some obscure Polynesian tribe (despite the übercool tattoos in the case of the latter).
Going through the motions: my current strategy for keeping sanity. Everywhere I look, a plethora of worldly delights stimulates my imagination, reminding me of things we’ve yet to do. A movie we must see together, people I want you to meet, jokes I need to tell you, gourmet food we ought to try, lingerie I want you to rip apart…
You said it best- I am proud of us.
And to think our time is yet to come.
Off to see “Walk the line” now. You should probably know that I’m a sucker for biography movies, especially if the plot revolvs around a mindblowing love story. Come to think of it, true romance seems to be the driving engine of amazing life stories, not the other way round. But you already knew that, didn’t you, you unbelievable creature. Whatever it is you’re doing tonight, know that these lines are humming in my heart:
I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you
Because you’re mine, I walk the line
What better way to distract the boyfriend blues than with psychotically cheerful gay friends who’ll make me dress up in latex, wear 8” heels and take moronic pics with their heads buried in my décolletage? <3
But seriously, I need to go out, so help me gay. If only you were here to help me apply the shiner (time to move on from body lotion), my rubber ass would be overjoyed with ecstasy. I miss you heavily baby.
Exactly 3 years ago, I took a topless stroll down the catwalk, encased in a breathtaking latex outfit by TG Clothing.
Exactly 3 years ago, you provided memorable adult entertainment moments (yes, an instant giggle & no, I’ll never stop teasing you about it).
What bothers me is HOW THE HELL did we manage to miss each other, despite being the craziest acting freaks there?
Let’s blame that unfavorable coincidence on vis maior, because from today’s perspective I feel the timing for our romance was quite perfect.
Digging through the archives takes its toll though. Once I’ve realized Zagreb will soon become just a distant memory, a wave of nostalgia hit me like a truck that brutally runs over some luckless cat. At this delicate moment, I’m completely unprepared to deal with overwhelming feeling of loss and endless what ifs, so I’ll just reminisce on wild old times. Back then, emotions were as redundant as they were luxury and extremely devious behaviour was the only way to silence intense craving for a soulmate that never appeared. Thank God I’ve kept this pics to witness my maturation into a bold woman who is ready to love her man, at last free of any restraints. Now that you’re gone, photos from the past are the second best option for distracting thoughts about the dramatic changes that await me just around the corner. Which reminds me, thank God for Cointreau too.
Since Eyjafjallajökull refused to erupt and Ireland didn’t sink after all (note to self- never again pay gipsy with “magical powers” 200 kn to sink an island), I had to find other means of entertainment on this cold evening. And what a lonely cold evening it is.
I already miss our endless conversations. Who’d have known that I’d be staring at the formerly despised computer screen so gladly, rejoicing even the tiniest digital display of your wittiness and affection? So here I am, caught up in a vivid monologue with my feelings, trying to fight off private demons that torture me with tales of unbearable longing.
If you were here, I’d talk to you all night long.
I’d tell you about my fantastic friends and family because I need you to realize why I would kill for them.
I’d show you my secret list of places to go, things to do, skills to acquire (remember that scene from High Fidelity?)
Then, inspired by the cozy atmosphere, I’d eloquently explain why I prefer Vonnegut to J.G. Ballard.
A few glasses of Cointreau later, I’d be blabbering about the corset, determined to convince you it’s not only the ultimate fetish fashion item, but also the most admirable weapon of transformation for both mind and the body.
Soothed by your gentle touch, I’d even unfold the dreadful secrets from my childhood, which still haunt me in my dreams.
But then, we’d laugh the past away and fall into each other’s comforting arms.
Moments before our exhausted bodies would finally fall asleep, I’d unveil my spectacular theory on origin of homo sapiens, watch you giggle over it and let you seal my lips with a long goodnight kiss.
Damn this wild young heart!
I could bathe in the mystery of your unfathomable eyes.
Unabashedly yet so sensually,
I’ll steal all your secrets tonight my dear,
Wrap them gently in my tender kisses,
Consume them in my passion’s untamed flames
And softly lay my lust on your burning body
As I caress you with waves of purest affection.