Category: Nonfiction

Today is the day you left me. It was between 7:59am and 9:10am in the morning, when you stepped into the Über with some people you only met moments before.

I had failed to protect you, to keep you safe, i broke your trust. And wen you sunk down on your knees and asked for the keys to our apartment and then begged me to leave, it broke my heart in return.

I was waiting there on the bench, watching you from afar, hoping you would look at me and give me a sign.

But you did not even spare a glance, you just boarded the van and they drove you away, and deep down i knew: this is the end…

It has been two hours and 42 minutes, 162 minutes in total, that I was able to sleep, 9.720 seconds to be exact, that I was able to forget the pain of being without you, of sleeping in our bed alone for the first time since I had left for New York in May to bring you home.

“I can not sleep, I’m feeling horrible, are you okay?”

“No” – the last thing you ever said to me.

“Can I do anything for you? Please let me know…”, “Are you safe?”, “Can I come to you?”, “Please talk to me”, “I’m going crazy…”

But my words are not heard, no response from wherever you are, not even two green check-marks letting me know that my pleas have been received.

“Please” “Just a simple sign, so I know what’s going on with you…”

This is torture, albeit it might be well-deserved for what I put you through.

“I really don’t know what to do”, “I can’t shut my brain off, thinking constantly about how You are, where you are, what you do.”, “Please give me a sign, I’m going insane from worrying!”

My heart is broken, and all that is left is nothing.

“My heart is broken from not knowing where You are and what You do, and for not talking to You for what feels like the longest time since we met for the very first time.

I can only assume that You don’t want to talk to me, and that leaves an excruciating pain on my soul that is almost unbearable.

There is nothing that I wish more right now then to be able to hold you in my arms and feel your head on my chest.

I hope You have a safe place to stay for tonight. I will not be home tomorrow if You want to avoid me, but nothing would make me more happy than a sign from You and to see You whenever You are ready.

I love You, forever…”

“How are You, babygirl? I miss You like crazy… “

It’s day number two now, and still no word from you, still no idea where you are or how you feel.

I did not sleep well last night and haven’t eaten any solid food since you left. I can’t get myself to stomach anything other than drinks.

I do have their number, so what if I text them to see, if you are alright?

Your silence sends a strong message, but I can’t help myself, I could never forgive myself if something was to happen to you, if you were left all alone in the big broad city of Berlin, a place that never managed to excite you, that never made you feel at home.

“Hi, this is the boyfriend. Is everything okay with her? I texted and called but got no reply, I don’t want to bother her but also not feel abandoned…”

“She is safe with us”

“She has been here with a couple of friends and has taken some stuff, just sayin'”

Oh, that hurts like a knife, twisted in my chest. I can’t breathe, and my pulse jumps up as if I had just run a marathon.

I knew she would need some cloth at some point, she was barely wearing a tiny short and a top, and temperatures were dropping.

I was supposed to take her shopping this week, make sure she was proper clothed when the tropic waves that had graced Berlin last week were pushed aside but temperatures below 20° C.

Walking up the stairs my pulse starts raising, my heart beating in my chest as if it would want to jump out and sprint forward to be the first to see the extent of the emptiness she might have left in our room.

There is nothing left. Everything of you is gone, as if you’d have never been here at all…

“Uff, just came home to our empty room…” is the last thing I’m able to text, before the darkness grabs my heart and draws me in the abyss of hurt and loneliness, a place that has proven itself difficult to leave for a many before me…

It’s another sleepless night in our bed without you, such an unpleasant feeling, that keeps me up all night long.

I sleep from time to time, sure, but every turn that exposes your missing presence, every pillow that is cold due to the lack of your warmth, makes me wake up again. Like mother or father wake up if their little one is gone, wandering off at the night.

“This whole situation is very difficult for me to phantom. One moment I have a girlfriend who loves me more that everything in the world, and a couple of hours later she stops talking to me and moves everything out of our apartment. My heart is broken beyond repair, I have no idea what to do. Should I keep texting, keep fighting for her to come back to me, or do I have to admit defeat and accept that I lost her forever?”

Work is hard today. I can’t focus, I can’t breathe, I can’t concentrate, as all of my thoughts do orbit around you.

I recall that I always said: “I want you to be happy, even if that means to be without me!”

I now have to live up to that promise, but is this what you want?

I know I want to give you the space you need, give you peace and tranquility of mind, but i also know that I want to fight for us, that I want to work hard to earn back your trust, if only that means you can forgive me enough to keep talking to me again.

I always wanted to learn from mistakes, understand the reasons that are at the core of every helpless situation.

I know that I’m blind, but I want (to learn) to see…

After yet another short night, it’s no later than 6:23am when I’ wake up again. I’m unable to shut up my brains, stop thinking about you…

You still haven’t read my last message from yesterday, so i keep coming back to check and see if you did.

What do I do? Do I stop texting you? Do I text you more? Do you want me to fight? Or do you want me to stop?

Do you even care at all?

Most of us live their lives in deep denial of reality. As Searchers of Truth, we are opposed to that fact, but in psychoanalytic theory, it is a psychological defense we all use at times to reduce our anxiety when it feels particularly disturbing.

I lost you early Sunday morning, that is a fact, that is a very disturbing fact, that fact is causing me a lot of anxiety.

Time heals all wounds is what they say, and I will get over this eventually. But I’m not there yet. I’m nowhere near a point where I can continue to live my life, without missing you every second of the day with every fiber of my body.

Our time was to intense for that, the story of our beginnings to glorious, and the flame of our love burned to bright.

Maybe denial of reality is exactly what I need right now to get on with my life?

“I let you down, and I broke your trust. I was the one person that was supposed to keep you safe, and I betrayed you.

I am so, so sorry for that, and I hope you can forgive me, some day…”

Matthew 26:69-27:5: “The dark night of Jesus’ trial reveals his disciples at their worst and Jesus at his best. He comes to us, reveals our faults, and offers a chance to repent. Will you turn to him or to others?”

5am. At least I’m making progress. Today I slept already till 5am without waking up and searching our bed for you.

Thanks to the many pillows you made us buy, I now have something to cuddle, while I’m trying to clear my mind of the thought circling in on you and how you might be holding up.

Is this as tough on you as it is on me? My chest grows full of regret, when I think about how you must have felt on that morning, how lonely and lost I have left you, when there was no one to shelter you from the world…

Why? What happened? How did we end up here? I try to explain it to myself, images just flashing through my head-

I glance through the window from the balcony and see you dance with him.

“Do you hate me?” you ask, “No, the only thing matters to me is if you still love me” i say, you hold my head in your hands, and we kiss.

We should have just stopped then, called it a night and gone home.

Tonight I dreamt we bought you a bike. It was a fixie, the colour between turquoise, teal and aquamarine, with a lowered bar, made to be driven by women with skirts.

Its white wheels ran smoothly and soft, we drove it around in circles to see, if it fits you.

But I could not see your face, I could not talk to you. I miss our hugs, I crave your embrace. I’m like a vampire that feasts on your energy and starves without your love…

I love our little rituals. Like always trying to shower together, when this is possible. You prepare our toothbrushes, so we can shave off some time by doing all this in one go.

Or you trying to pee on me when I don’t watch out, little rascal you are!

Today it’s just me, no one to steal my water, no one to spit on my feet when done brushing, no one to hug and to share the warmth of the shower between our bodies.

I used your shampoo, I hope you don’t mind. It makes my hair smell like you…

“Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works.”

— Virginia Woolf

Today was particularly hard. In the afternoon starts your script writing class in Berlin. I hope you will take it, but I don’t know if you go.

I went shopping at Mubi and bought you a present, nothing big, just a notebook and some pens.

I had it wrapped and wrote down a quote from Virginia Woolf, and handed it over to your Professor to give you after class as a surprise. Was that okay? Or is this too much? Am I infringing on your space, I don’t know…

The uncertainty if I’m doing too much or not enough at all is wearing me down, I can not eat, or breath, or walk, I have to lie down.

Darkness is clouding my brain, my sight turns foggy and the night takes over this sunny afternoon.

I woke up in the middle of the night again, disturbed in my rest, by my own snoring.

Is this where it has come to? Am I trying to replace you, to fill the void you left, by taking on tasks that were yours in the past?

“I mish You”, no check-marks, same ol’, same ol’…

When I leave the house on this morning, there is a JUMP by Über bike parked, right in front my door, facing towards my destination.

Is this a present from you, did you put it there? I JUMP on and race towards the office, the cool Berlin breeze in my hair. I’m using the fast lane, don’t stop till I’m there…

We took the fast lane too, it took me just three days before I asked if you love me. You freaked out and refused to answer, but I knew there and then that you did!

You told me you are like a Hurricane, Hurricane Han, that you make landfall and bring chaos and destruction with you.

But I wasn’t scared. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t scared at all. I went all in from the start, did not hold back anything, and was ready to go down with the ship, if this all would prove to be too much.

I still am…

One of the places you like to eat out here in Berlin is Hamy. Living for 10 years in New York, the culinary capital of the west, you have a hard time getting satisfied by the Berlin restaurant scene.

Hamy seems to do the trick for you, with it’s no frills fresh Vietnamese fast food cuisine, and, of course, with it’s Watermelon Shake.

Every time we eat there you’ll have one, every time I’ll take the Pennywort Juice, at the end we agree yours is better.

There was a huge watermelon left from last week, it’s already a bit ripe, so i decided to make a shake out of it.

The procedure is simple: Carve out the melon and fill up the blender, 30 seconds on full speed, et voilà!

It’s a delicious shake, sweet and fresh. I wish you would be here to drink it with me…

Late last night the doorbell rung, my heart started pounding as I jumped out of bed and opened the door. Is this you, are you on your way back to me?

The light in the stairway turned on, and I heard little steps slowly walking up the stairs.

Floor after floor they came closer to me, steps of a tiny person, fighting against gravity, fighting to climb up to the top.

I could not take it any longer, so I started walking down, until I ran into a little girl, that looked at me, with her big brown eyes.

It was the wrong little girl, it was not my little girl, it was not you.

Ever since then, when I hear steps in the stairways, my hart keeps on raising again, wishing, hoping until last, that one day, you might come home…

On this very second, 7 days ago, on September 01 at 12:13:32, You last replied to me and said: „No“

This has been the hardest week of my life. I miss You so incredible much. You were my joy every day, and you have been such an integral part of my life for all these past months. You healed my broken heart, you gave my life purpose and made me feel whole again for the first time in years. 

Your disappearance leaves a burning open wound on my soul.

The pain is so excruciating that it keeps me from functioning. I can’t eat, I can’t breathe, I can’t work, I can’t sleep.

There is only You, and it seems only your love can heal. I’m akin to beg You: „Please make it stop, please give me a sign.“

But You take your time, as much as you need. I want to take in all the pain for the both of us. And I want you to know, it is okay that You keep quiet. You will have your reasons, and if this is, what You feel You need to do, I support Your decision.

I succumbed to a nasty tonsillitis that keeps me in bed most of the days. This seems to me like a blessing, because only when I’m dozing off, I don’t  constantly think of You.

I hope, as my body finds the strength to fight this infection, you’ll find the strength to open up communication with me again.

I’m here, whenever You are ready, on whatever condition You seem fit, subject to any rule You need to impose.