#23 - The 24 Hours Breakdown

4 years ago
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I went back to work, and as a little breeze on a very hot day, my life felt better right away. I could interact again with people and I involved myself a lot in my new position. This new challenge seemed to make me happier. I reorganized my life, without forget to keep a part for myself.

Every day, I biked twenty five miles before going to work. Between five and six o'clock in the morning, nobody is on the bike path. I can enjoy the goldfinches flying along with me, and when the sun appears between two trees, I can be enlighted by the world around me. In these moments, I am the happiest woman, because I have for myself all the beauty of the world.

I was spending half of my day on an happy mood, to come back home and feel the emptiness and sadness of an existence without real purpose. What is a life without love, a couple without communication, a home without heart beats?

For the six following months, I attempted to live like everyone, and thought that I was too needy for my well-being. I stopped to ask me existentialist questions and tried to move forward, but I will paraphrase Renė Descartes, Cogito, ergo sum, "I think, therefore I am", without thinking I could not be.

I was feeling alone, terribly solitaire and I had nobody to talk, or maybe I was too proud to talk to anyone about "my misery". Sundays are the only days that my husband and myself have as a common day off, and I started to understand that 24 hours was the time that I needed to breakdown. Each Sundays night, or Mondays morning, facing my total ineffectualness in having a normal couple relation with my husband, I was crying. I was not sobbing, but the tears were running from my eyes until I had none left.

One morning of June, I registered on a dating site. On this day, I decided that I had try enough and I wanted to be happy not half of my days, but all the time. I did not want to see myself anymore as a victim. I believe that love needs to be "passion", but I tried for two years to turn it into "devotion". I may have been a slow thinker or a strong believer.

I wanted sex, to be able to communicate with a man and to check if I was "normal". I had relation with three different men and it tells a lot on the fact that they were all Europeans. I did it open-mindedly, hoping that I will find an answer and surprisingly I found it, but not the one that I expected.

Sex is beautiful and you feel so good after it, but what is sex, when your heart and your soul are not involved? It is just a temporary aid, a bandage on a scar that it is impossible to cover.

I never stopped to try to establish communication with my husband during these three months of dating, downloaded a pornographic video to watch with him, prepared a striptease choreography and took naked pictures of myself that I emailed to him. I had try almost everything except maybe to learn how to love myself.

I decided to use my art classes in this process.....

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