[Broken]

'Cause I'm broken when I'm open 

And I don't feel like I am strong enough 

'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome 

And I don't feel right when you're gone away

Tattoomania

Hello world,

it's been a while. In my head, there are three post ideas forming and tonight I am going to tackle one of those.

Tomorrow I hopefully will be able to make the appointment for my first tattoo. (See here what it looks like, and here why I want to get it.) I am excited.

Today I came up with an idea for a second tattoo already. I mean, people say it's addictive - but I always shook my head at them. I will not end up being covered in ink. And I would not have thought that I'd ever consider a second tattoo. But I do. This is what it looks like:

LP - Linkin Park

I won't get it on the inside of my wrist, though. That's where wordie is going to be. And it's too prominent a position. I was thinking of the back of my neck. When AD and I discussed the other tattoo, that was where I initially wanted to put it. And LP is going to look lovely there. Plus, it's completely coverable by my hair.

I never wanted to be the girl with a band tattoo. It's crossed my mind a few times already, I've always admired people who got this band logo somewhere on their body (and trust me, there are quite a few who got that tattoo). But it's not unique. I never seriously considered it.

Now that's changed. Because it won't be my first tattoo.

And to me, it's not just a band. Linkin Park is so much more. Their first album was released in 2000. I was 8 years old. I am not sure if it was 2000 or 2001 that I first stumbled across their song Crawling.

I remember that it was my brother's CD (I still wonder how he could have listened to some pretty good music like Linkin Park and Limp Bizkit back then and now listens to the worst trashy shit there is). I remember running to him, begging him to play "that song with the water running down the sink" again. I remember listening to One Step Closer, but because I didn't speak any English, I sang "and I'm abbata Bray!" instead of "and I'm about to break". I had a huge crush on the character (and actor) Bray in the TV series The Tribe. I remember going to the gym hall of my kindergarten and - being all alone, all the other kids playing outside - turning up Hybrid Theory, full volume, head banging and letting out all the emotions that were locked up inside of me. I can still see the room - it's a very vivid memory. 

It's been my favorite band ever since. Whenever someone asked me what music I listen to - that was my first response. Even when I listened to charts or other bands on repeat, I always came back to Linkin Park. 

I literally grew up with them. And matured with them. Hybrid Theory is so full of anger, so full of "I hate my parents" - or at least it is for me. Meteora is just the same, full of "society doesn't get me", full of "I'm all alone". When I lost my best friend in middle school, I listened to Numb. 

Linkin Park saved my life.

It sounds weird saying this - but it's 100% true. When I was 13, 14, 15 years old, I was so full of anger and despair. My father hit me, my brother hated me and I hated him, my father never showed any sign of affection for me, my mother wasn't there and when I was with her it was more of an obligation. No one got me. No one was there for me. I didn't really have friends, I was a loner. I was the weird kid. I had so many issues. I hung out with older teens that were drinking heavily and doing drugs, punks, emos - that's how I spent my time. I never smoked, never did drugs. Even among my friends (though they were no real friends because you never talked about serious things) I stood out.

I was thinking about suicide. Whenever my father raised his hand, I was considering it. I locked up in my room, cried my eyes out, listened to Linkin Park. Thinking I'm about to break. Or I don't know what you're expecting of me, put under the pressure of walking in your shoes. Every step that I take is another mistake to you.

I had a huge crush on Chester Bennington, of course. I googled him (and was devastated to see he was married) and read his bio on wikipedia. It's weird - I just reread it and it's changed completely. The most important paragraph is missing, at least on the German wikipedia page. But I very much remember what it was about. Chester lived with his father who neglected him, felt like his mother let him down (I think you see the parallels). He was sexually abused and ended up as a drug addict. His best friend died of heroine. Chester was with him when he died. After that, he turned his life around and stopped doing drugs.

I remember thinking: Wow, his life is fucked up. Like seriously messed up. But look at him. Look at his talent, at what he's created, at his success. And I pulled my strength from that: If Chester Bennington can survive this shit - so can I. After that, my thoughts changed. I was still considering suicide - but almost immediately after these thoughts, there was this voice telling me "just 4 more years to go until you come of age - you can survive this". 

Up to this day, when push comes to shove, that's what I think: If Chester Bennington can be strong enough to survive - so can you. And up to this day, the music I listen to gives away my mood. When I'm not good, I listen to Hybrid Theory or Meteora, when I'm alright, I listen to A Thousand Suns, Minutes to Midnight, Living Things, The Hunting Party - there is one album for every mood.

Over the years, I matured. I grew up. I started to be self-reliant, to distance myself from my father, think I'm worth more than a roach and I don't deserve you saying this, think just because I am not like you doesn't make me be worthless. And Linkin Park's music grew more mature, too. When I was reaching the point in puberty that I wasn't all consumed by myself anymore, actually started to look at what happened in the world, politics and whatnot, Minutes to Midnight was released. I remember being so damn disappointed because the style of the band had changed so much. By now, I am glad it had because if it hadn't, I wouldn't listen to them anymore. Or at least not as my favorite band. But just when I got interested in society and all that's beyond my personal scope, the band got too.

Looking back, I love how they evolved and how I grew with them. When Living Things was released, at first I hated it. There it was again - the band had changed once more. After all the fans had hoped that Minutes to Midnight was just some kind of mistake, that something like Meteora would happen again, A Thousand Suns was a slap in the face. But I grew to love the music. After that whenever a new album was released, I didn't expect anything but looked forward to the journey that they took me on.

So. Yes. It's a band tattoo. And fans will recognize it immediately. But it's so closely linked to my past, to what I've been through - what I have survived -, it's a constant reminder of my strength. My will to fight. After all, if Chester Bennington did it - so can I.

xoxo
Kiwi

This moment when so familiar lyrics suddenly become a whole new meaning

I've put my trust in you

Pushed as far as I can go

For all this, there's only one thing you should know:

I've tried so hard and got so far

But in the end it doesn't even matter.

I had to fall

To lose it all

But in the end it doesn't even matter.

Up and down

Hello world,

I've decided to put my necklace back on. Not as AD's necklace - well, yes - but also, no. It's ... confusing. I just miss the feeling of it. It's always given me strength. And I am mourning, somehow. After all.
I don't see it as a collar anymore, though. Rather a silent support - because I know AD's with me, and He'd be happy and proud of how I'm doing. I still miss Him. A lot. But it's not taking over anymore, I'm not stuck in bed, unable to move, numb, crying my heart out.
So I'm wearing my subtle necklace again. I'll probably never be able to wear the heavy necklace, though - the connection with that one is too strong. That's really always been a collar - a supporting collar, but a collar nonetheless. I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish Him to come online again and collar me again.
I'm confused. I am moving on, and yet I am not.
Today was the first day that I didn't check Kik if He's been online. I'm fairly sure He'll never come back - for all I'm concerned, He's dead. Because it's the only explanation that I can live with. Every other option is killing me too much, is driving me mad, keeps up hope that some day, maybe some day He might come back. And tell me He's missed me and He's sorry and He'll never be gone again.

But I cannot wait for that day to come. I need to move on. To remember Him fondly, and remember everything He's done for me, every change He's initiated. All the support He's given me. All the times He caught me when I fell.
There's a screenshot that I've been just looking for, of a conversation AD and I had. And I cannot find it. I thought it was gone, and I just broke down in tears (so much for how positive I was, huh?).
I've found it, though. Just in time before I could get really, really bad.

May I wear the heavy necklace today? I want to feel its weight.
Why do you want to feel the weight?
I guess because it tells me that no matter what happens, if I screw up or it ends up being the worst experience in my life, I have someone to talk to, someone's support, who'll catch me when I fall.
You know how to sweet talk me :)

 I wasn't sweet talking Him, I was telling the truth.

I can't promise.
Hm ... OK. Try hard, okay?
Yes, Sir.
You know I'm proud of you. Never forget it.

I've wanted to write some about E and how he texted me today and how relieved I was. Because I've met someone a few months ago who wanted to have a friendship with benefits and I would've been in, but after he'd fucked me once he poof'ed. And I was so afraid that this'd happen again with E - but he messaged me today. Though technically he hasn't fucked me yet. But, well ... I guess it's still a good sign.
Anyway. I can't really concentrate on the good right now. How my mood can change in one blog post, huh? Starting being all good, all brave, all "I'm doing fine, thanks" - and ending with mascara smeared all over my face because He is gone. For good. And I will never hear His voice again, I will never hear Him say "good girl" or "smartass" or make inappropriate jokes and typos and all that.
Fuck.

xoxo
Kiwi

What a weekend!

Hello world,

I really don't know what to say except: Damn, I had so much fun this weekend! I can't believe it!

This guy - from now on I am gonna call him E -, we went to a club Saturday night. With several of his friends. It was fun. They're the kind of people who don't judge you, who don't give a fuck about other people's opinions and who just want to have a good time.

It's been quite a while that I've talked about something kinky on here, hasn't it? So I am going to share this story now. My drunk self thinks it's hilarious, my sober self doesn't think it thaaaaaat funny anymore, but luckily I also don't regret it.

So E and I, we were making out in a corner of the club. He is a pretty good kisser (he once even lifted my hands above my head and locked them there, and all I could think was 'Pleeeasse, don't let go!', but sadly he did after like a second) - he's gentle. He did push me against the wall - and there are two persons inside of me right now. One part of me says 'It's good he was this soft and gentle and not urging' - it took a while until he dared to grab my ass, and in between I felt him looking to the sides, checking if anyone was watching us. To be honest - in that moment, I didn't care if anyone was watching. If he would've pushed me down on my knees, I would happily have obeyed. But then again there's this part of me who is really, really glad he did not - that he actually looked out for me and did not want to bring me (and him, most likely) into an uncomfortable position. But, well, there's also naughty me who wouldn't shut up in my head, begging him to do unspeakable things to me. Anyway. Now comes the fun part: we were kissing, my hand in his pants, his hand finally in my pants ('please, please, please slide a finger in, pleeeeaaaseeee'). By then I had already forgotten where we were.

When we opened our eyes, his friend was standing right next to us, a grin all over his face, a beer in his hand. "I am so happy for the two of you!" And then he turned and was gone. - And we laughed, and sadly he then stopped. And made sure I was okay. Which I was. Which I am. I would've never thought I'd ever be. 

When the club closed, we went to his friend's apartment ... and, well. Had some fun. All I'm gonna say is that he is a very, very good kisser.

xoxo

Kiwi

Changes

Hello world,

I wonder what's happening. I remember one conversation I had with AD about my self issues and low self esteem. He said He was a guy and therefore well capable of judging if I was gorgeous or not. And I told Him how I was tired of hearing guys on the internet tell me that - because in real life, no one has ever hit on me. Ever. So there must be something wrong with me. And He was seriously confused. I remember Him saying 'Are German guys all nuts?!' He just couldn't understand it. And, to be honest, neither could I. I mean, I do believe that I am not ugly, somewhat average. And to just have not a single guy think me pretty - that's a hard thing to accept. And it made it all the more difficult to deal with my issues and accept the person who's looking back at me in the mirror.
(This is the first time, by the way, that I could remember and write down a conversation I had with AD without bursting into tears. I'm starting to focus on the good things, not the loss.)
Now, all of a sudden, that's changed. I get compliments (and I've learned to accept them and not rationalize them or say something to lessen them), guys look at me - it's a weird feeling. A good weird, though. It's as if I have 'single' tattoo'ed on my forehead - and I guess I do behave differently. I opened up, I talk to and smile at strangers, I am not the introvert that I let myself and my ex make of me. I'm still shy - but I don't let that get in my way.
Why am I writing all of this down? It feels weird to reflect on this so much - but I need to put it into words. I need to remember this. So whenever I question myself, I can read these lines and remember.

Yesterday, at around 1.30am this guy messaged me. We've met when he was collecting money for a charity for animals, and we talked and he was fun and his first name is pronounced the exact way that my last name is pronounced. So we were joking about him being my husband so that he could introduce himself like James Bond, just waaaayy cooler. (Oh gosh, I have to think of Humbert Humbert and that makes it suddenly not so cool anymore xD) I actually didn't think of him as 'dating material' or that he thought of me that way. I just thought he's a nice guy and someone to have fun with. So when he asked, I sent him a picture of my snoopy pajamas telling him I was already ready for bed. But the moment I sent it, I actually ... Well. I actually wanted to go. So I dressed (thanks to a certain someone here who will be reading this, Mr personal stalker :D) and went. But I thought I was joining a group of his friends. It was really cute of him to think of me.
Well. Not a group. Just a woman who turned out to be his mother. - This sounds a lot worse than it was. His mother is really cool. Anyways, it made it a lot more flattering that he thought of me. It wasn't until he paid for my beer that I realized that this was a date.
I messaged a friend of mine that I was at that club and she texted back that she was in the club next door - she joined us then. And when we were in front of the club, we somehow talked about my new haircut and I pulled my hair into a ponytail. And my friend said I should better undo that again, and I did and asked, joking: 'So now I'm not thaaat ugly again, huh?' And she joked back 'not quite that ugly' - and the guy said: 'beautiful.' It was the way he said it, it was ... honest. He took the joke out of it and, well, I got goose bumps. And I couldn't look him in the eye anymore.
We kissed later, on the dance floor. He kisses the same way that he is: soft. Not in a bad way, though. And to every guy out there who may stumble across this: when you kiss a girl, have one hand at the back of her head/neck. Seriously. You have no idea what this does to us. It's not just an amazing feeling when you do it while we kneel in front of you - kiss us like that. Because I honestly forgot where I was and if kissing him was what I wanted originally. It felt good in that moment - and it still makes me smile. And it kept a smile on my lips all the way home.

I should end this post now, saying: We are gonna meet tonight again. And I am excited and nervous and so very much looking forward to it. But there's actually one more thing I need to remember. About guys hitting on me.
I posted something on Facebook in a local group. It was a question whether I could to the elections tomorrow even though I haven't been notified. And this guy answered. And then he answered again: 'check your inbox.' And I did. And he had messaged me how he had checked out my profile and how I seemed nice and if I'd want to go meet for a coffee with him someday. - I will not because I don't think we will match, but it was still quite a nice thing to say. And it made me smile.

So. Now I am gonna end this post. Saying: I really like the person that I am becoming. That I've probably been but haven't let out. Breaking up with my ex was the best thing I could've done, just as dating him was the best thing that could've happened to me 7 years ago.

xoxo
Kiwi

Quickly ...

... wanted to share that I am actually smiling today. True smiles.
And I am looking forward to the rest of my life :-)

If you haven't yet - smile. Smile as often as you can. You might get a smile back ;-)

xoxo
Kiwi