Summary : We learn more about Beca and Stacie (Part 1)

There are many kinds of products between two people.

And many kinds of loss.

November 1, 2014

I watered the plants today. I was thinking how they probably were waiting for it. How they probably needed water. and were waiting for me to bring it to them. and then i stood in the middle of the room and wanted to cry and couldn't.

I can't. and maybe i was doing it wrong, approaching this crying thing wrong, and maybe crying means something else and i am doing it wrong.

maybe i am doing the whole living thing wrong.

isn't crying supposed to be easy? isn't crying supposed to be like - how you can't not cry, cannot help yourself but cry?

and is not life supposed to be also like that? like you cannot help but live? Cannot help but want to live.

so why is it not so for me?

November 3, 2014

Me and Stacie agreed to meet at the local Tea Cafe. We were both tea persons it seems. when i arrived Stacie was already seated at the table of her choice. (she picked the place and she picked the table. she picked me also, didn't she?)

I was 20 and i have never been on a date before. this was going to be my first ever experience and i was a bit nervous. i didn't know a damn thing about dates. didn't know how it was supposed to feel, how i was suppose to behave, didn't knew a thing at all, so in my mind i was already inclined to let her guide this.

i don't remember what i was wearing, i never remember clothes somehow, unsurprisingly.( because my memory has never been my strong suit. )

yeah, so i don't remember what i was dressed in but i do remember what she was wearing. you guessed, didn't you? yes, to nobody's astonishment she was wearing the same skirt, i not so delicately condemned in our first ever interaction. i chuckled, and determined that i really liked her shirt, and light blue sneakers were really nice, if not very Stacie at first glance.

there were a lot of things that were not at all what you would expect with Stacie.

We sat in the far east corner. the cafe was… different, i have not been there before. it wouldn't have been my first choice. it had too much brown and a sense of buried-ness about it, earthly heaviness, but lacking plants and colors. but i didn't mind, the tea was quite savory.

the minute we started talking, something was on and we didn't really stop talking until the end of our relationship.( if it can be called that.)

Our mental chemistry was instantaneous and quite a powerful revelation. for both of us.

i was buzzing, with some strange energy. she was not what i anticipated at all. she was something else…

and this part about me and Stacie is the most difficult to explain and admittedly most compelling.

we clicked on a level, that was unprecedented before and we were pretty sure, after only 4 hours of talking to each other, that it couldn't be replicated afterwards.

simply put our minds were synched up. it was euphoric, dazing, drug-like.

it was a creation in motion. it was painting with words, it was sculpting with conceptions, it was housebuilding with meanings. and we were the authors. we were the hands. we were the architects.

we constructed and deconstructed architectures of meanings with a raw passion that can only come from within.(sounds cliche, right? but..yeah) this is what we loved. we loved it. Until than - apart, but now we found somebody who loved it on the same elemental level. who simply was like this. Had It. and together we had so much more. we had some interesting notes apart, but when we came together we had music. every time. together we could extend, we could transcend beyond our own possibilities and reach something new.

our every interaction was a wondrous mental adventure. and the anticipation was always charged with electricity. we just knew, when we joined our minds, we were bound to discover some hidden treasure, come up with something novel and fascinating, produce ourselves in a thrilling way.

we talked all the time. and i guess it was an excess that ruined us in the end, among many other things.

Me and Stacie - we loved words. to us words meant something much, much more than to others, we knew this. we loved words like thirsty person loves water. if we could eat words for food we would. in a way words were our food, clearly.

we deemed ourselves 'the word-addicts', tireless researches of meanings and unique combinations of meanings. and we surely did that. we created phrases, we dismantled them, assessed, assembled again. and again and again. it never seemed to drain us, on the contrary, it boosted our energy. it was our favourite pastime, our eccentric lust. it almost felt like you could touch it, it was that real and intense around us.

every time we came up with something, it would be with curious angle and unconventional shape, unknown perspective, unexplored feel. it was a delight, a high like no other.

i am scrambling with so many adjectives. like i said, this is the most hard part to explain about our chemistry. and since than i have long ago lost my love for words and my drive to find the perfectly right ones. i really don't have that desire in me anymore. that hunger. somehow.

anyway, that day, when me and Stacie left the cafe, it was evening, we talked till 2 am into the morning. we wandered around a lot, walking seemingly endlessly. already then, on our first date, we couldn't find the line, couldn't find the boundary to stop and contain our experience. plant it and give it time to grow by itself, removed from our unrestful hands.

our fundamental sin, i think, was our ignorance that silences were as important as talks, if not more.

isn't this so in music? what would melody be without a pause? endless cacophony of sound, senseless, overbearing.

but that was much, much later. until than we walked and walked aimlessly and tirelessly.

i don't remember much, what we talked about that day, it was a lot, maybe some of it even made itself into the letters we sent to each other later. i don't know, i should check. but there is a part i remember that apparently resonated starker than i noticed then. i remember that later we would come back to this subject numerous times. maybe that is the reason i remember it so well.

we were sitting in an empty aquarium, imagining orange fishes that could swim in the air.

what do you think about the first impressions? do you believe in them? - she asked,

i laughed remembering our first interaction.

not that you made a delightful first impression that day - she added with a smirk.

i thought a bit before answering:

actually, yeah, yeah, i do. i think first impression is the only impression. but i don't know, is it 'impression'.. i guess what i mean is first 'meeting' is what i would like to call it

yes! you got that, 'meeting' is a right word. 'impression' gives the impression of something shallower, it has, like this tone of depthlessness, you are right, 'meeting' is a richer concept, mmmm

she was chewing on the yellow, unhealthy-looking candy we bought on a whim (her whim) from a women sitting at the sidelines of the street. silently in my mind i hoped it wouldn't poison us.

i was actually thinking about that a couple of days before, i was thinking that first meeting in the last meeting, you know what i mean? at least that is how it is for me - i said.

mm, you mean like a trailer before a movie?

yeah, good, a perfect metaphor, a trailer to a movie, yes. like a preview of what will and can be. like i think in those 30 seconds when you first meet someone, everything that is ever to come, is already there, in those moments you already know all that is there to know, some of the scenes maybe change later, some plot may get distorted in the process, but the end result, the whole of it is already given.

i get what you mean about… it's the same for me when i first meet people, i look at them and instinctively i know what is there, who they are, what is their sense, like what kind of sense they make to me, yes, that's, that's definitely so, it is like i perceive them, not 'perceive', 'perceive' is the wrong word, more like take them in, like computer takes disks, and processes them, yes, i process them in my system and it checks their model and features and characteristics and matches them with mine, and that obviously tells me things i need to know later when dealing with that person, that's how it goes, but... i got side-stepped from my meaning again, - what i would like to understand is, what does the last meeting mean, like what do you mean when you say, that first meeting is the LAST MEETING, do you mean like, two people only meet once and never again, because i don't think i agree with you about that, i think two people can meet again, twice or even thrice and so on

her candy made that slurping sound i found uncomfortable. i decided i would be more careful eating mine (licking? my god).

listen, what i am talking about when i talk about meeting? like, let's deconstruct that. when there is 'A Meeting', there are two people right? so let's take that into consideration. there are two people means that these two people are someones, i mean, they are someway, they are some kind of existence already, like a tree, every existing tree is unique right? or like, a painting, that's a better analogue, so every person is like a painting and when two people meet, they already are some kind of paintings, they lived and experienced things and got to this point, they are made up of unique colors and shapes or whatever, i don't know much about paintings, so the meeting constitutes of these three things : first person, second person and the phenomenon of

but i think..

i made a stopping motion with my hand.

wait, i am getting there, the phenomenon of chance is the third. so the first meeting is the last meeting because, if the painting changes so much that you can't recognize it as the same, or relatively the same, can you say that you are meeting the same person?

so, i get what you mean, you mean people at the core stay the same, not taking into account the formative years, that's different yeah, and you mean after that, people rarely change in a way that would totally alter their main theme, or color palette or..

yes, you got it

so if it so happens that the painting is dramatically altered, when and if you meet that person again, it is not a second meeting but the first meeting because there is not that person anymore

yeah, approximately yes, roughly speaking

i still felt the lingering dissatisfaction with how i explained that, as usual, but couldn't find a better way than.

you have brought into play some very debatable ideas

i know

she was right, there were many uncertainties, but when were there not?

there is some rightness to it though, i think - she hummed to herself, digesting it still in her mind

meeting is a very complex subject, i don't think it can be covered so easily, like at all, or can it be covered at all? it seems so mysterious and at the same time somehow clear around the base

i know what you mean.

was our last discussion also about meeting? i wish i remembered. it must be recorded somewhere.

but more importantly can you ever un-meet?

could we?

and would i want to?

November 8, 2014

i was a bit sick. didn't go to work, stayed right in the bed, listened to some music, watched some crappy television, couldn't rest or turn my mind off.

why do i even listen to the music when i can't hear it anyway?

crappy tv was much better. it took my mind off some things. what a true blessing, you watch these stuff and you don't have to think about anything, isn't that awesome? my mind loves me!

let's see.. there is beating, and more beating, and ridiculous crisis situations, and guns, cocky, cool guys, who worry more about delivering their punchlines with enough sass and class, than getting the hell away from there, wherever that is, because the whole building is about to burst, but hey, they have plenty of time and point to make, okey?

it is beyond ridiculous, i love it, what is not to love? stupid shows are amazing. they are a true relief to my existence. i think i finally understand the meaning of millions spent on this idiocity.

and to think that i underappreciated them this whole time.. what a blasphemy.

November 11, 2014

so today was Jessica's birthday, but i was not feeling very social or in the mood for people at all, i am in the mood of absolutely no-people, sub zero. i feel like if i open my mouth and pronounce words i would scratch my insides.

so i ignored everyone's calls, and didn't even tell her 'Happy Birthday', cause i am a selfish jerk i guess, but just couldn't bring myself, to talk. and i know she wouldn't understand, it is socially unacceptable or whatever, i know how it goes, just sometimes, i am too far gone to care about that, or about anything really.

even from the time i was a child, or rather teenager, they stapled this label to me - 'strange', 'inadequate', 'broody'. cause i would shut down sometimes and just ignore people, and not answer when they asked me how i were or how school was. (you don't care, dude) and i tried to get away, but couldn't, cause there was some social gathering or some stupid event and mother demanded i be present. and i for the life of me couldn't understand why the fuck that mattered more than how i felt. why this.. social phenomenon weighed more, had such importance to anybody. i couldn't understand why i had to tolerate it, what was the meaning of it, why was i made to sit through graceless toasts and tasteless jokes, how did that benefit anybody? and they called me inadequate, because i didn't answer when i didn't want to. can't anybody see an irony? i remember i thought then: is this how adults live their whole lives? doing things they don't want to? cause, then i don't want to be an adult at ever.

but here i am, an adult in all common senses of the word, but as it seems, still retaining the so called 'capriciousness' of my teenager self.

i would almost feel some pride about it, if i could bring myself to care.