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Adam and Eve
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Mara



Joined: 29 Sep 2008
Posts: 53
Location: The Netherlands
Adam and Eve

Hello there,

You’re new in my life, so I shall introduce myself. I’m Evelyn, but you can call me Eve. People who are very close to me, tend to do that. You don’t know it yet, but we are going to get very acquainted.

My psych told me it might help me to buy you, so there you are… I decided to call you Adam, ironical isn’t it? As an Eve, I have to have an Adam and since there never really will be an Adam, you are going to be my Adam. You don’t know how many times I had to hear that joke… “Hey Eve, where’s Adam?”
The first time it was actually funny. The second time, the third en the ones after that, I tried to laugh, keeping everybody happy. But after the 20th time, it’s not that funny anymore. It got me thinking: “Do you really think that I have never heard that joke before…? Do you really think you’re original?” People try to break the ice with that joke, but the ice thickens by inches. The stupid thing is, they are oblivious to that fact. They really think they’re so funny… morons..

Yeah… I’m not the type of person, who is afraid to judge people. They do it to, right? I suggest that you get used to it. Back to my psych.. You might think I’m crazy or something. Actually you can’t think, because you’re just paper, but just as a figure of speaking then. I’m not crazy, but when you are me, you have to have a psych. If I didn’t have a psych, I would need a psych, get it?

To give you an idea of who you’re dealing with, I will tell you a little bit about myself. Just some about the past and the rest you will figure out just by hearing me out.
I come from a big family. I’m the youngest of seven children. I have six older brothers. (Yeah, for real!) That probably makes you think I’m a bit boyish, but that’s not the case. I’m your typical lipstick lesbian that has her lipstick up her ass. My family is not only big, we are rather rich too. So I went to a stuck-up private all-girls catholic boarding school. There I wasn’t the person I am now. It feels like a long, long time ago… I was cute there, I was nice and friendly. I had lots of friends, but was oblivious to the fact that they were my friends because of who I was. They used me, because I was the one with the big name and the big amount of money. Could I help it? The thought of having friends was nice for sure, so I kept my friends. I let them use me, but actually I used them. I think it was then, I learned that all people can be property for a certain amount of money.

School was a piece of cake. I’m not only rich and good looking, I got the gift of a useful brain. I’m very blessed, I know: ‘straight’-A-student, “oh, you’re so smart”, blablabla…
I could have chosen the easy way out, right there and then. I could have find myself my ‘Adam’. A very, very rich Adam, who’s family could be useful to mine. I would have been the perfect housewife with nothing to do all day, except for spending money. People often thought I was like that, but on the contrary, I secretly am a hard worker, who likes to do something with her life. (PS: don’t tell my family, they might disown me right here, right now.)

Well since the Adam-part was doomed to fail, and my parents and the rest of the world wouldn’t approve of a Amy, I went off to college. This time I would do it differently. I wasn’t the cute, spontaneous girl anymore, I became a ‘cold hard bitch’ as they would like to call me, just to see if that would suit me. Well, it did. To my surprise people still liked me. This time it wasn’t for my money, or my attentiveness (nice word, right?), this time it was because of my certainty. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I wanted to be for a very long time.

When I was 4 I didn’t want to be a ballerina, I didn’t want to be a teacher, a nurse or a mommy. I also didn’t want to be a fireman, policeman or a football player. When I was 12 I didn’t want to be a doctor, or a vet. I didn’t want to be a dolphin trainer, a singer or an actor, I didn’t want to be a model. When I was sixteen, I for sure didn’t want to be in the family business. I always wanted to be an archeologist. I was very targeted and that seemed to attract people.

I also had a lot of male attention. I was ‘hot’ as they liked to call it. They never got a single hint that I wasn’t playing for their team. It was actually fun to lead them on, just to see how far they would go. I can tell you… men can be very stupid. Smile

That was it for now… you will be hearing from me..

Yours truly,
Eve
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Post Wed Sep 02, 2009 3:23 pm 
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Moonshine



Joined: 16 Jan 2008
Posts: 470


I liked this - can't even put my finger on exactly why - it just flowed well. Although it did occur to me that "Where's Adam" could neatly have been answered with a brief, "choking on the apple I rammed down his throat earlier... do you like fruit?" - followed by a sweet smile...

Nice write, look forward to the follow-up.

Moon
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For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return. --Leonardo da Vinci--

Post Wed Sep 02, 2009 11:02 pm 
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MysteryGirl
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Joined: 02 Jun 2007
Posts: 3419
Location: I come from a land downunder


This is intriguing...............I'll be coming back to check for more,



HugZ, Noni
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Post Wed Sep 02, 2009 11:25 pm 
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Allison



Joined: 12 Oct 2005
Posts: 4216
Location: Florida


Ditto I like the start. Please continue!

Alli
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Alli

Post Wed Sep 02, 2009 11:56 pm 
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Mara



Joined: 29 Sep 2008
Posts: 53
Location: The Netherlands


Hi there again Adam,

This is number 2 in my series of unfortunate events. I told my psych that I followed his advice, and that I bought you. He was very, very proud of me. I dared to ask him for a lollypop, but apparently they don’t give them out in this clinic… ridiculous…!

Today I woke up quite early, that’s why I’m writing… I’ve got nothing to do… There was a constant beep somewhere nearby. It woke me up and annoyed me deeply. So I called someone to make it stop. After that, my ticket to dreamland was apparently invalid, because I’m still here. Stupid train... stupid beeping… When you hear a constant beep and at one point it stops, you keep hearing it.

The beeping reminded me of Isabel. Isabel had a phone that was way out of her league. She couldn’t figure out how to change her ringtones. I don’t get why they sell those things to people who don’t understand them and never will. For some people, there is hope, for some… definitely not. And why sell them? The people who buy them, don’t know how to handle their phones. The people who sell them are going nuts from explaining 10.000 times and still it never lands…

I met Isabel in London. I was 25, and lived in London for a year during my internship at the Natural History Museum. I had a wonderful apartment in South Kensington, just a 10 minute walk from the museum. The apartment was on the second floor and it had these big windows. I could sit there for hours, watching the little park across the street. People walking their dog, playing with their kids, jogging etc. Every morning I saw Isabel jogging there. It made me take up jogging. Yeah, for real. I’m pathetic, I know, but hey? It’s healthy and good and… and… okay. She was stunning. I never got to meet her though, until the annual staff party on September 22th, the first day of autumn. The English will take on any excuse to throw a party, because… who would celebrate the first day of autumn?

Back to Isabel. It turned out, she was the daughter of one of the board members of the museum. She was 24, a natural blonde, slim figure, athletic and she had the most beautiful eyes. She studied English literature. She fell for me instantly. I literately had to pick her up from the floor, because she slipped over one of the appetizers I couldn’t get through my throat a minute before. She cursed and I said something about stupid perverts and indecency.

From that moment is was evident: we would be seeing each other a lot. At Christmas she moved in. We spent a lot of time together. You know… the whole charade. The romantic dinners, the late-night-movies. Doing laundry together (actually, dropping them at the dry cleaner’s… like I would do my own laundry!). We would jog together every morning. (See? I didn’t take up jogging for nothing…). We would shop, do picnics and hold hands walking through the park. She had no problem with being with a snob. Sometimes it made me wonder… are you blind, or are you so high up walking on clouds that you can’t see who I really am?

I wasn’t in love. I just liked the idea of having someone around. It was a bonus that she was beautiful and a very, very considered lover. I can’t say that I was unfortunate. Maybe I should have told her so. I can still see her. She cried her bloody, most beautiful eyes out, when I told her I was leaving the UK. She said words like long-distance-relation, flying to see each other etc, but I wasn’t even listening anymore. I had done very well on my internship (that had of course nothing to do with me sleeping with my boss’s daughter) and I was eager to go home. Somehow I felt for this girl and I tried something like: If I don’t cry over you, I’m not worth to be crying over, but somehow that only made things worse. Now, 12 years later, I get why.

When I was home I got a letter from her. What it said is not to be repeated, but basically, she didn’t like me anymore. I’ve send her a letter back (what later became a habit to do with my exes) with the lyrics of Oops… I did it again. I hated the song, the Barbie doll that sung it (that, after her third single had a rack twice as big, but r.e.a.l.l.y. didn’t had surgery). I hated the clip and the whole circus that came with it, but if you look at the text… that text was written for me, or so it seemed. You should read it, for real. (Like you can, since you are still a book, but really you should!)

I’ve crossed the point of loving a long time ago. My shrink calls it ‘emotional inaccessible’. Every person I shut out, so they won’t get close. But for a real relationship, that distance needs to be overcome. I need to give. Like I don’t give… I never read in the letter that Isabel send a ‘thank you’. ‘Thank you that I could live with you, without having to pay for anything.’ ‘Thank you for paying my tuition money, so I could go to school for another year, because my father cut me off, for being a lesbian’. ‘Thank you for the nice clothes, the skiing trip, the vacation in Italy or our weekend Berlin, because I was such a Berlin-fan’. ‘Thank you for the laptop I needed to write this letter’.

But I get where he’s aiming at, I need to give more of me… Well, I did that once, and that ended badly. No more for me! After all... I guess there’s no use in that anymore.

So, instead of giving me, I just give stuff. People like that, right? And then… I use them…

That’s it for now, this has taken way too much of my time! Write to you soon, I guess…

Love,
Eve
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Post Fri Sep 04, 2009 7:38 pm 
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MysteryGirl
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Joined: 02 Jun 2007
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Shocked Fascinating! Not sure I actually like Eve at all, but she draws you in.




HugZ, Noni
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Post Fri Sep 04, 2009 11:45 pm 
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Allison



Joined: 12 Oct 2005
Posts: 4216
Location: Florida


Great addition. Keep it coming.

Alli
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Post Sat Sep 05, 2009 12:26 am 
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Mara



Joined: 29 Sep 2008
Posts: 53
Location: The Netherlands


Hey ladies,

thank you for the encouraging comments. I'll try to keep up!

Very Happy
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Post Sat Sep 05, 2009 9:59 pm 
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Mara



Joined: 29 Sep 2008
Posts: 53
Location: The Netherlands


Hi Adam,

I’m still here, don’t worry. I asked my psych today why I should write to you. I already know why, but sometimes, it’s nice to hear someone else say it. Not only to hear my own voice, but hear him say it. I also told him I called you Adam. He thought it was funny.

His name is Christopher Wilson. He has been my psychologist for 10 years now. When I got back from England, I went on a shrink-hunt. It seems stupid, like who wants to have a shrink? But I knew I would be needing one, so why not look for one I like? Luckily for me, my relatives are experts in that world, so real soon I set myself down on his couch for the first time.

I liked him immediately. He was 10 years older than I was. He had brown hair and bright blue eyes. A nice smile and not perfect teeth made him human and sympathetic. He always wore jeans, a shirt, a spencer and he had a great tasted in shoes. He adored his wife and he had three little kids. A boy called Trevor, he was 4 years old. He had a 2 year old girl, named Kimberly and he just became a father for the third time, a beautiful baby boy named Rick was the newest addition to the family. You could tell he was a very proud dad.

I’ve always been straight forward with this guy. From the moment I came in there, I had no secrets. I figured that would only slow the whole process down. I would answer every question he wanted to ask. That’s what I told him, and I kept that promise. However, I’m not a big talker. I grew up, youngest in an male-dominated-family. When I was a kid, I was very silent. At dinner, I didn’t come through, my brothers were to loud, to present. So I told Christopher, that I don’t really tell things spontaneously. He remembered that.

He told me that he was intrigued by me. Most people that came to him weren’t this honest. They said they would be, but they weren’t. He told me that was very natural behavior. Most people are searching for themselves. But when they come to a point when honesty is required, when they need to share their inner thoughts, they are ashamed of who they are. They always try to make themselves look better. They act like better persons, what actually holds them back.

That isn’t me. I have no dark places. I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I’ve done. I believe in taking responsibility for your actions. I believe the things I’ve been through, the things I’ve done, my own behavior, made me the way I am right now. That doesn’t make me a good person, I’m still a snob. Maybe I need to change, but the past is past. You need the past to understand the present.

Maybe this sounds arrogant. A lot of people think so, but I like to call it sincerity. That’s how Christopher calls it. The way I deal with things is very unique, he told me. I am the most controlling person he knows. A control freak, that’s what I am. He told me that controlling is natural behavior. When you go through circumstances that go beyond your own reach, situations you all of a sudden have no control over, you feel powerless. A first reaction to that, is to hold every line short. Try to have everything in your own hand. In that way you feel safe. You can’t get hurt. After a while you realize that by holding everything so tight, you exclude all the things you can’t control. Things like emotions, things like love. Eventually there comes a time where you loosen up, because eventually, everybody searches for love.

I don’t do that, I don’t loosen up. I hold everything tight. I don’t search for love. I had my love, and that was that. I chose a psychologist to share my story with, but not in a search of love. It’s a search in sanity. He thinks it's weird. How can I not be looking for love? How can I be so controlled? I choose the people I let in deliberately. I chose Isabel in London. I chose Annika in Sweden. I chose Charlotte, I chose Emily, Annabel, Lydia, Elizabeth, I chose Lucy and many, many more. I chose girls from all skin tones, all religions, I dated the rich and famous, I dated poor or average, all backgrounds. I don’t care. I just don’t care.

I choose what I tell them. I don’t lie. I’m never unfaithful. I never cross their boundaries. I treat them good. But I do it the way I want. Julia was a religious girl, I dated her for six months. I could kiss her, hold her, take her out, but we never made love. I went with her to church, every Sunday. She lived with me, but we had separate bedrooms. It was okay with me. Christopher asked me, why I never made an attempt to go further, to try to love her. I said it was okay like this.

I choose what I tell them, I choose what I show them. I have a big, big house. You can call it a mansion. There everything is to be seen and used. But I have a small cottage on the east coast. It’s not far from the beach. It has four rooms, a nice kitchen, a veranda and a beautiful garden. It holds a music room. I love to make music. I play the piano and the guitar very well, so I have a fortune in instruments standing there, only for me. My bedroom is there. My favorite clothes are there. I love to hang out all day in sweats, in jeans, shirts etc. But the only place I wear those clothes, is there. The third room is the study. The last room is the living room. Just a dining table, comfortable sofa’s, a big-ass-tv and a wonderful view of the ocean when you look outside. It’s serene, peaceful, a place where I can find my true self, my true love. This is a place for me, only for me. I never show it to any of my dates, my girlfriends, partners etc.. I have a strong character Christopher said. He never met anyone who is so determined to keep things this separate.

I see now we’ve drifted off big time. But since this is my story it doesn’t matter I guess. I told you, I asked him why I should write to you. He said it would be good to get my ducks in a row. So I guess that’s what I’m doing now… getting my ducks in a row.
See you soon.
Love,
Eve
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Post Sat Sep 05, 2009 10:03 pm 
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MysteryGirl
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Joined: 02 Jun 2007
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OK, I admit it, I'm hopelessly hooked by this narrative and will be checking in like the addict im am to see how it unfolds.




HugZ, Noni
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Post Sun Sep 06, 2009 1:55 am 
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Mara



Joined: 29 Sep 2008
Posts: 53
Location: The Netherlands


Dear Adam,

It’s really late, it's round 3 in the morning. I’m supposed to be a sleep right now. But lately, I’m awake at all sorts of times. I guess that’s just one of the symptoms that comes with this whole situation. I see you now know a little bit about the ‘who’ and the ‘how’. Today, I will tell a bit about the ‘where from’.

As I told you before, I come from a rich family. My father owns a very big company in the oil business. You could say that’s a risky business, but my father has places himself there as an crucial link in a chain. You can’t go past him. How many backs have been bend over that, I don’t know. But I know my father didn’t spare anyone that got in his way.

We lived in a big mansion in the middle of nowhere with an enormous property around it. My mom liked the peace and quiet. I didn’t really see how you can have peace and quiet with seven kids, but ‘the nowhere’ was peace and quiet. That’s how it was. It was our house and our surroundings vs. the outside world. I think my mom went over the top with this. She always told us that the outside world was a bad, bad place. That’s where the bad people were. Our house and property were safe, we were if we stayed there.

I think, that once you have all this money, it goes to your head, real quickly. Luckily I had someone to prevent me from that, but my mother didn’t. She was a bit delusional. So as children, we grew up with an distorted view of the world. The only people we saw, when we were at home, was our own family and our staff. The people who would serve us. Our cooks, housekeepers, our gardeners, our plumber, our technicians, our pool boy etc.

So when I went to my stuck-up-private-all-girls-catholic boarding school, I was scared. Everyone could be out to get me. Trust was an issue I had to work on. As I told you, I had a lot of ‘friends’ there. These friends I didn’t need to trust, because they were dependent on me.

You would think, at a place like that, there were tons of me’s. That wasn’t so. Despite the fear I had, I was confident. At only 5 years old, I knew I was someone that should be served. People should stand in awe of me. The stupid thing is, when you have an attitude like that, it’s like a self-fulfilling prophesy. I always had a whole posse following me.

Of course, I had some enemy’s there. There were some me’s who thought they were better or something. Not that they were, but just let them think that. And there were the jealous people. They were jealous because I had money. They were jealous because I had friends. Or that I had power. Or that I was beautiful, smart and much more. People can get jealous over numerous of reasons. They are so blinded by what they don’t have, that they can’t see what they do have. That’s of course easy to say for me, for I had everything I wanted. My mother always told me that by their jealousy, they were only harming themselves. Because they would never have, what I had. That gave me comfort.

When I came home from boarding school, it was a totally different world. I wouldn’t have all these people around me. I wasn’t the person everyone wanted to be. At home I was the only daughter of Edward and Lucinda Phillmore. I was the only sister to six brothers. I was the baby girl of the family. I was the girl with a passion for music. I was the girl that loved to be outdoors, riding on her horse. I was the girl that would flee the house once she was at home, because I couldn’t stand the commotion going on in the house. I couldn’t stand my brothers fighting up against each other. Trying to find out who was the most important. Who was the best.

I was always with my oldest brother. His name was Eddie, after my father. He was 10 years older than me, but he had a mental disability, which made him mentally 6 or 7 years old. My parents were ashamed of him, and kept him in our ‘land that was never to be found’. So my brother didn’t know anything of the outside world. He loved me. He loved me so very much, I couldn’t understand. He taught me unconditional love. I was the only one in the family that cared so deeply for him. We would go swimming together. We would build our own tree house. We watched movies together and he would even play with barbies with me. At dinner, I would help him. He was happy when I was home. I was happy he was there. He kept me from going insane. It was weird in a way. When I was very little, he was my older brother. But I was growing up, and he stayed the same. So when I was 15, he still was 7. He was my excuse to still go up on the lake in our little boat or to climbed in our tree house.

When I graduated I made my parents take him to my graduation. It was a fight to do so, but it was worth the effort. I can still remember him sitting there. He had a suit on and was instructed to say nothing. So he just sat there, saying nothing as instructed, looking the most happy and proud I ever saw him. Like he knew what was going on. Like we had done this together and this was his graduation as well. I graduated cum laude, on top of my class, and held a beautiful speech. Afterwards I walked up to my brother and gave him my cap.

That summer, he died. I knew he wouldn’t live a long life. But when he died, I felt like the only sane person in my whole world just died. The only one I could be myself with, was gone. That was the first time in my life I cried. I was sixteen and I never cried before.

We buried him under our tree. The tree, that holds our tree house.
I think that Eddie was the constant factor in my family. I think my brothers and my parents could feel that too, because when he died, our family turned even more insane. It became one big power struggle. It got to their heads.

With Eddies death, for me, there came an end to a certain era. I would change. I tried to get away from there, but I don’t think I really ever succeeded.

With love,

Arrow
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Last edited by Mara on Thu Sep 10, 2009 9:03 am; edited 1 time in total

Post Tue Sep 08, 2009 1:23 pm 
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MysteryGirl
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Ahhh, I've had my fix for the day, thanks Mara.

Curious and curiouser (as Alice would say) LOL







HugZ, Noni
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Post Tue Sep 08, 2009 11:26 pm 
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Mara



Joined: 29 Sep 2008
Posts: 53
Location: The Netherlands


Hey Adam,

I think I’ve been beating around the bush long enough now. It’s time to tell you about Abigail. I’ve been getting my ducks in a row and a major duck is Abigail. I told you I went off to college and played the cold-hard-bitch. But between that and my brothers death, there’s five years. Five years I normally don’t tell anyone about. Those are my years, and Abigails’.

I told you in my last letter, I wanted to change. I didn’t want to be me anymore. I didn’t want to be my family anymore. To do that, I went as far as I could. I went off to college on the other side of the country, near the east shore. I lived on campus and didn’t take much with me. I didn’t take any of my expensive stuff, clothes, electronics, my car etc. I started off, with a clean slate.

My first weeks I learned to clean and cook. I learned to sew, wash my own clothes and how to do my dishes. I even helped others. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but before then, I never helped someone, except for my brother. Instead of being the public figure, I became a background girl.

Initially, I liked it. I didn’t needed to be this person, who everybody envied. Not everybody knew everything about me. I finally could be anonymous. I could go to college and just sit in class. Listening to the professors, looking out the window. I could wear glasses and have a pencil in my mouth. I could dream away, without everyone looking at me.

Not everybody knows it, but being a public figure, even in high school, is a fulltime job. You can count on no privacy. You always have to be at your best. You can’t show any weakness. Because you are the person everybody wants to be, so you have to fulfill all kinds of expectations. There is a lot of pressure. I was never aware of this pressure, until I didn’t feel it anymore. I was always unhappy, but never knew why. It was terrible. Still, 5 years later, I went back to that way of living.

In my first semester I went to college and I even took a job. I worked in the college library. They were restructuring their organization and I could be of assistance. You hear that, I didn’t call the shots. I was someone’s assistant. I loved the job, it turned out, I could be quite the nerd. After my work hours, I was allowed to read everything I wanted. The rest of my time, I spent walking around campus, in town, along the beach, everywhere. I loved being on the go, without any purpose.

It was like I had distanced myself from everything I ever was, and I liked it. That was until I found out, you never begin with a new slate. Very soon people knew who I was. Apparently, my silent approach, didn’t work the way I wanted. People became curious, but didn’t know how to come up to me. So if you google my name once, there was my whole life story on the net, for everyone to see. It didn’t take long, for them to treat me the way they always did. There was the fake friendship again. Everybody wanted to be my friend. The friends I found earlier, either dropped me for lying to them, or treated me differently. Eventually, I felt alone again and not one step further than a few months ago.

I withdrew. I still went to college, I did my job, I did my chores, I wandered around everywhere. But I kept to myself. I became the loner I always was before, except for the posse following me. My distrust to people came back to me and seemed to be my faith. Until Abigail came, she changed it all...

I leave you with this cliffhanger now (really feels like it, doesn’t it?!). Someone is bringing me dinner. Even if you are me, you still need to eat. When I was young, I could eat everything I wanted and when I wanted it. My body wouldn't show any of it. Now I have to eat so I don't get underweight. I have to follow a special diet and stuff myself. I don't even like to eat anymore...

So… not such a long story, but I will come back to you.

With love,
Eve
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Post Wed Sep 09, 2009 2:03 pm 
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Mara



Joined: 29 Sep 2008
Posts: 53
Location: The Netherlands


Hi Adam,

Today is a new day, today is a good day. It’s a bright summer morning and I’m up already. Up and out of bed. I love these mornings, I love to be out of bed.
Yesterday I said, I would tell you about Abigail. I didn’t got to her then, but today is the day.

I told you, that after people uncovered my true identity, I withdrew myself. I didn’t seek the spotlights, I didn’t do anything to draw attention to myself. I just wished I could be someone else. I wished I could be normal. I didn’t see that my own behavior made me anything but normal. In a non verbal way, I created a distance between me and the others. A distance they wouldn’t dare to overcome. I dug my own hole. I slowly became an outcast.

Then the assignment came. For one of my classes we had to do a project in groups of 5. Groups of 5 that we had to form our selves. “Shit… what do I do now?!”, was the first thing that came to my mind. I looked around my class. In my first weeks there, it didn’t take me long to discover some group dynamics. I could quite easily make out who the informal leader was. I saw the people who cared, the people who wanted to belong. I also saw the people who didn’t care. The ‘popular’ ones and the ‘nerds’. The belongers and the believers. And there were the ones that couldn’t be placed anywhere. There were a few people, that would just swirl through it all. Those were the people I envied. Those were the people I wanted to be like.

One of them was Abigail. Abigail was a swirler, as I would like to call her. She was this girl who made my head turn, the first time I saw her, and I wasn’t the only one. She had beautiful brown hair, that fell in a playful way around her face and upon her shoulders. She had big deep brown eyes, through which you could almost feel autumn leaves blowing in your face. Her lips were full and most kissable. She had strong high placed cheekbones that made her face unique. She had a long delicate neck and knew how to show that. She had a nice way of clothing. She looked very, very sexy in her way of not-to-much-sexiness.

She was not only gorgeous, but she had a sparkling personality. She didn’t have a problem with communication. She was the one who wasn’t afraid of people or how they would see her. She didn’t label or judge. She was bright and cheerful.
It all sounds so perfect. But that’s the only thing I could see, when I looked at her. She must have had her flaws, but not how I knew her. ‘Knew her’ are big words. I never spoke to her. I never dared to. I only knew her, from what I saw or heard.

So back to the assignment. Our teacher was still informing us what to do when she turned my way. She had the desk before me. Every week I had an hour to sit and look at her, without being obvious. “Do you want to work together?” It was just that simple. “Do you want to work together?”… Yes, that I wanted. I told her ‘yes’ and she smiled. She turned around again and the class continued. For me time stood still… An earthquake could have occurred and I wouldn’t even have noticed. We would be working together!

She gathered three others and we worked quite well together. Abigail and I, we developed a nice friendship. A friendship… at first it was nothing more than that. We wouldn’t even see each other outside our workgroup and classes.

I wanted more. I longed to see her every day. I wanted to know her outside of school-related things. I enjoyed her company. I felt comfortable with her. I never felt comfortable with someone in this way. I had my followers before, my boyfriends and girlfriends (yeah… I had already a whole list of exes). But we were never on the same line. I always felt superior and they felt inferior. With Abigail, for the first time, I had a friendship that was equal. We were on the same line and I felt comfortable.

Somehow, she felt that. It’s like she knew that this was new for me, and that I needed time. Time to get used to it. Time to learn what it meant to be equal, what it meant to be friends. During our project, she kept a straight line. I should learn how to work together.

She knew how to be compatible to me. I think that that’s the reason we worked out. We could happen, because she didn’t feel inferior. She wasn’t afraid of me and she wasn’t afraid to approach me. The walls I build so carefully around me, she wasn’t afraid to bring them down. What a smart girl I had there, huh?

That’s enough for now. Since it’s not always a day like today, I’m going to enjoy myself. I might even go outdoors!

So… see ya!
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Last edited by Mara on Mon Sep 14, 2009 1:18 pm; edited 2 times in total

Post Mon Sep 14, 2009 10:52 am 
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MysteryGirl
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Joined: 02 Jun 2007
Posts: 3419
Location: I come from a land downunder


This is such an interesting read Mara, I keep wondering what will happen next. Keep it going gf.




HugZ, Noni
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Post Mon Sep 14, 2009 12:28 pm 
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