Letter to Caroline

It took me some 45 days after Mamaia so I wouldn’t feel it anymore. Most trying to understand you. I made various assumptions to create a story my mind would be comfortable with, and thus give me some peace. You didn’t look good in that story, as I searched for or elaborated and talked with friends about narcissism and emotional responsibility. I then visited your country in August, found some resemblance of behavior, and things made more sense. My friend and I now joke that you folks are all a bit autistic.

My mind took a good break from you soon after the last time you spoke to me, but while being in Stockholm, my heart would skip a beat every time I’d see someone with the same tan, height, and hairstyle—not few. I don’t like to admit but I hoped we would meet spontaneously. This trip brought your specter back to my mind, now with no hard feelings, but almost as vivid. I always wonder if it’s a real version of you—spooking or seducing me—or just an illusion.

A few more months later, through all the people I met this year whom I inevitably projected hints of what happened with us, and some incredible and surprisingly dense journey of (self) discovery—funnily facilitated by a YouTube fitness coach from Gotland—I feel like what I had with you has now come full circle where I now find myself in your shoes, not in exact similarity but with the same meaning.

It’s interesting to experience the other side. I wonder if you knew that I'd eventually go through the same, but of course you just didn’t care explaining—or doing anything. I then recognized the same traits—that I would attribute to your behavior—in myself, while also feeling entitled and confident to be so, in certain situations, to my own well-being.

I started writing this a while ago as a journal entry, but formatted as a letter. Something brought me back to finish it, and in my eternal attempt to further embarrass myself, I guess you’d enjoy reading this. I wish this was a physical letter but imagine me asking for your address!

Time did make it fade but I still can’t help seeing you as someone special. The lack of reciprocity steers me away from feeling you, but it does come, in waves, from time to time.