Vulnerability

"One is never more vulnerable than when declaring his/her love for another"

Pondering the extreme feelings closely related to being in love, the above popped in to my head. And now I wonder weither that is an original thought or a long forgotten quote. Please help me out.

Countdown

100 days to go and I can eat chocolate again, drink alcohol again, ... have a life! Just 100 nights of sleep and 100 seemingly endless days away.

Personal Coaches

I'm too chaotic to keep up with all the resolutions I make, so when I decided to join the board of my student's club, I immediately decided to make half my collegues my personal coaches for one or two fields in which I may need some assistance.

Big Brother : Dieter Adriaenssens
make sure the other coaches do their work properly
has accepted the post
brother

Romanic languages : Maarten Geeroms
guide me to my first words of Spanish and make sure I do not neglect Romanic literature
has accepted the post
torrero

Driving License : Maaike Bettens
work with me towards greater love for driving
has accepted the post
no nickname yet

Chocolate and Bad Influence: Ann-Kathleen de Sagher
make sure I eat and drink sufficient chocolate containing substances to remain mentally stable, must also make sure I don't eat too much chocolate
has accepted the post
kitten

Sports & Alcohol : Anne Verdoolaege
make sure I move enough and drink enough
has accepted the post
no nickname yet

Love life : Thalia Van der Vorst
listen to my whining about boys
has accepted the post
shirahime/ white princess

World Kitchen : Tine Vekemans
make sure I eat healthy
has accepted the post
bunny

The lover writes a one word poem: YOU

Wrote this, about a week ago, after I just saw him walk by me. Hope he likes it.

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

Because of you

and you only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the sight of you

and you only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the sound of your voice

your voice only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the rythm of your step

your step only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the touch and the feel and the warmth of your hand

your hand only

There is one more stanza to it, but so far that is fiction so... Bear with me if you can.

R.I.P.

This morning, when I woke up all was well in the world. All safe my heart. After a semi-non- existant breakfast I hastened myself to the examination room were my presence was required. Upon return to my studential residence I found one of my pets dead and another in a rather bad state. A fresh supply of water and a little love have cured my most beloved Andreas, but Judas is no more. Though the least favourite of my fish he shall be dearly missed. May he rest in peace.

He makes my heart beat

It's not really fair that I continually tell you how terrible it is to be in love, yet give you no clue on what the man that causes these heartburns is.

+
smile
intellect
sense of humor
voice
eyes
reads a lot
multilingual
hands
doesn't smoke
walk

0
place of birth
dress
taste in music
physical appearance

-
age
writes mainly with a ballpoint pen
drinks (a little too much)
not very anglofilic
footballcrazy (though it could have been worse)

Therapy

I laugh. I smile. I am in love. I have a crush on the guy sitting right across my table in the library. * I sing. I dance. And I worry.

Worry about my friends worrying about me. I know they worry that's the distinction between friends and 'the people I know'. My friends worry, even though they know, it's useless. They can't cure me from falling in love. Nor do I expect they even try. But I just hoped that maybe, one day one friend would say: ' Either you tell him or you don't, but you can't be half-miserable forever.' Well they do tell me that, but they don't kick me to accept the fact of it.

Until I'm brave enough to admit I'm in love; I laugh, I smile, I sing and dance. And I have a new crush in the library everyday.

*This means: There is a guy I'm in love with. And there is a guy sitting right across my table that is cute. They are in no way related safe that they are both studying in the library.

Join me in death.

The title of a favourite song of mine. And the fitting title to a post that is all about longing to die.

Maybe it's female instability, maybe it's lack of mental health, maybe it's not feeling loved by those one cares about. Maybe it's just me.
Just 2 days ago, I could have died of laughter, because a girl handed me a love note in name of a friend of hers. Not only was her acting unconvicing and the note macho rather then romantic; simply the thought of me, having a date with a man that I didn't even know, that I couldn't possibly care about while the object of my love was within eyesight ... it was such an odd situation and I couldn't help laughing, no matter how examstressed I was, it made my day.


Now, while still thinking the situation simply hilarious, the heart is filled with sadness. The only thought I can hold in my head for longer then two seconds is: ' He doesn't love me'. Two days ago this was a happy thought, remembering former in-lovenesses, I presumed it would be exactly the same this time, realising he doesn't love me and then start to forget I was ever in love. But not so now. I am in love. And I don't want to be.

I am in love and I can't be. I want to die but can't kill myself. Being tied to life strongly with strings of friendship.

Plan A

The good news is, my secret crush is not in love with me. And possibly in love with someone else. How that is good news can only be explained to people who also don't want a relationship.
The better news is he doesn't know I'm in love with him. And thus plan A (i.e. Be His Friend) may continue.
The hilarious news is I have a secret lover. Only just have I been handed a note* asking for my number. Cute. If only I knew the guy. And if the note weren't totally tactless.



* A translation: Hi Sexy, I'm rather shy so you'll have to make the first move. I promise you won't regret it. An 'exciting' reward awaits you. ****/** ** ** A