she is not home.

She is not home. She’ll never be. She is the safe house I go to, but not home. I feel safe, but I don’t feel that coziness, that heartwarming sensation I had at home. She is not where I grew up, that house to which I knew all the secrets, all the sounds it had to offer, and what made them. I knew the shortcuts, places to hide, and whenever I need to be alone, that secret room, abandoned long ago by anyone who isn’t me. And even though I know the address perfectly and still have a key, I can’t get into my home, because it’s not mine anymore. It’s not that I don’t like her, I do. She’s special, unique… but not home. She doesn’t bring the memories of my childhood friends, adventures, or the taste of my mother’s cooking. And I know, as much as I like exploring new houses, getting to know their secrets and sounds, and all those things that make them unlike any other house there is, there will never be another home.

bright eyes and an old blog...

I spent today's morning reading all the entries in that blog. And we all know how much of a masochistic I am, so I kept on reading. There were so many things I didn't realize, or perhaps I just didn't want to see them. As usual, you were trying to get through to me, and I was being the selfish bastard I've been most of my life. If I had known the things I know now, after all I've lived, would I change anything? Would I have asked you to stay? You knew, deep inside, I wanted to beg for you to stay. But I convinced myself it was the best if you went away, away from them, and all their problems. And staying would've probably just made you a mediocre person, instead of this independent, successfull person you've become, and all the things you've learned and sometimes try to teach me (even if I'm technologically impaired). So obviously, that wasn't the solution. Maybe we should've kept going, but what does a stupid 18 year old know about life, about love, about... about. I'm glad you found him. He makes you happy (and in the end, that's all that matters), and seems like an amazing guy. But I guess a part of me will always think: "that should've been me". We are both to blame to some extent, but everyday of my life I regret my stupid arguments... "In not yours, and I'm free to do whatever I want, we're not dating." Pffft. Well, guess what, Mr. Cocky... you are hers, and always have been. It's just that I understood it a couple years too late, and there is nothing I can do about it. Cause like you said, it wouldn't be fair. I can't come around and fuck up your life everytime I decide I want you. The funny thing is, I've known I want you for a long time now. Because you know that everything Robert Smith says in Love Song is true. And I'm not saying I haven't had my fun, fooled around and what not. But at the end of the day, Jesse, it's you I want, and so it will be forever. Maybe in the future we will be back together. I hope so. Things now may look difficult with your new work visa binding you to media8 for the next four years, but who knows. Even if we live in the same place, I guess there's no guarantee. Maybe all of this we're living will help us be the best version of ourselves when we meet again. For now, all I have are some letters, memories, a shitload of songs, our city, and home. Until some 13th in Norway. Eternally yours... L.