Reality as a dream- Chapter 1
Title: Reality as a dream-Part 1
Chapter 1: The dilemmas a jerk can cause
When I met Ville, my heart had been viciously ripped apart by a no good jerk of a man that did not even deserve me in the first place.
My stomach felt hallow; I hadn’t eaten a bite of food since I was dumped. I would try to pinch my skin, but I couldn’t feel it. To me, it seemed like my body had become like a hard shell, separated from all that I was. And there was the ever present heartbeat that refused to give out, no matter how many times I told it to. Death was the single sweet escape I could allow myself to enjoy, but even to that I was too afraid to give into its warm embrace. Some days had passed since the heart shattering event, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine a ray of normality. I knew my life had been destroyed and I had no idea if I would be able to pick up the pieces.
Of the jerk that broke my heart, I had come to believe was the love and man of my life. I was prepared to walk alongside him for the rest of my life; I had even moulded my future to fit with his. We had been together since high school, though we knew each other for a couple of years before that. Not once had we fought beyond repair, not once had we threaten the other with growing apart, and not once had he made me fear of being alone. A perfect match had been made with us, seeming as we complimented each other’s graces and faults perfectly. So it came to be as a surprise his petition of separation.
I was going through the best time of my life, the highlight of all my hard work and waiting. He was mine, I had finally finished my doctors’ degree on literature, and in an economical sense I was stable enough to buy my own house. A house I was planning to live with the jerk. My colleagues at work had commented how happy they were for me that all was going well, and I hated the thought of going home to my friends to announce that all had gone down the crapper. My love life had been shot to death by the man I wanted to be my husband, and my future had gone with him.
The break up had been thought of and executed in our great get away to Finland.
It was the first time we had been able to travel together, for the jerk had always been too proud to let me play for his expenses. Finland had been our choice after much careful debate, but at the end it had all come down to my selfish wishes.
I had wanted to go to Finland to kill a couple of birds with one stone. Finland was the land of my dreams, though I had no certain idea as to why, it was the perfect get away for lovers’ seeking a peaceful and beautiful atmosphere to enjoy themselves and it was the home of my favourite band, which were to start a new tour. I had never been able to go to any of their concerts, my home in Puerto Rico wasn’t really visited by European rock bands, and whenever they were close in the United States, I always had some big test or report or too much work to give myself the luxury of going to see them. It had been very much exciting the prospect of that perfect vacation with the love of my life, but four days before the concert, and a week in since we had gotten to Finland, the jerk of my boyfriend announced that he needed time for himself.
The jerk had been bugging me with marriage for some time, and though I knew I wanted to marry him, I would say nothing because I knew his thoughts of it. He had always commented on how we would never get married, and I believed him even though I allowed myself to dream. I didn’t believe in marriage that much either, but it was something that would eventually be done. I merged my views with his and followed him patiently.
Four days from the concert we had a serious talk, to which he announced that he needed time for himself to think over the evolution our relationship was going to take. At first I had no idea of what he spoke off, and I was prepared to agree to his wishes when it hit me that it was only now that he was thinking of his future with me, and it visibly sadden me so much that it triggered our greatest fight, and break up.
Obviously I felt incredibly responsible and my horrible thoughts were given wood to the fire when the jerk packed his bag and returned home without speaking to me. Just like that, I was abandoned and all my hopes of a safe and cordial make-up were destroyed.
So, I had spent four days trapped in a hotel room, drowning in my self-pity for I possibly destroyed my own future. The lack of food had forced me to go out; though it was the last thing I wanted. I felt like the world shunned me away, and so I had no right to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. I went out and managed to get on the elevator, but the movement and the lack of food had my body fail me and it was no surprise to find myself kneeling on the floor, trying to regain myself. I could barely breathe as the lift went down a floor and the pain gave me a sense of claustrophobia. The doors opened, and it angered me that I wasn’t to have a nice, quiet and alone ride down.
At first I didn’t notice, but whoever had entered was kneeling next to me, speaking in low tones, asking me what was wrong. This person’s worry warmed my hurt heart and I couldn’t keep myself from breaking into sobbing. It felt terribly good when the stranger embraced me, humming softly as he patted my head.
The elevator doors opened and suddenly I felt strong arms snake around my waist to pull me to my feet. “Easy now, sweetheart.” The stranger said, and I was certain that my saviour was a man. He pulled me out to the lobby, and conveniently there were seats close by. Making me sit, the man sat on the couch next to mine, moving it to an angle closer to mine. “What do you need? How can I help you?” As he spoke, I felt like I knew him for all my life, and that also made me want to cry more.
It took me a few seconds to calm my sobs and answer him, and when I did look up, his voice registered in my head. As I stared at his face, I wondered how I couldn’t recognize him earlier. Then I wanted to cry more, but not because of my ended relationship, I wanted to cry because my first meeting with that man had gone that way. It should had been a glorious moment, where I would bask in his excellence, and beg for a picture, yet I was beginning to realize once more, things didn’t go as one expected. And sitting next to me, treating me like a lost child was Ville Valo.
Chapter 1: The dilemmas a jerk can cause
When I met Ville, my heart had been viciously ripped apart by a no good jerk of a man that did not even deserve me in the first place.
My stomach felt hallow; I hadn’t eaten a bite of food since I was dumped. I would try to pinch my skin, but I couldn’t feel it. To me, it seemed like my body had become like a hard shell, separated from all that I was. And there was the ever present heartbeat that refused to give out, no matter how many times I told it to. Death was the single sweet escape I could allow myself to enjoy, but even to that I was too afraid to give into its warm embrace. Some days had passed since the heart shattering event, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine a ray of normality. I knew my life had been destroyed and I had no idea if I would be able to pick up the pieces.
Of the jerk that broke my heart, I had come to believe was the love and man of my life. I was prepared to walk alongside him for the rest of my life; I had even moulded my future to fit with his. We had been together since high school, though we knew each other for a couple of years before that. Not once had we fought beyond repair, not once had we threaten the other with growing apart, and not once had he made me fear of being alone. A perfect match had been made with us, seeming as we complimented each other’s graces and faults perfectly. So it came to be as a surprise his petition of separation.
I was going through the best time of my life, the highlight of all my hard work and waiting. He was mine, I had finally finished my doctors’ degree on literature, and in an economical sense I was stable enough to buy my own house. A house I was planning to live with the jerk. My colleagues at work had commented how happy they were for me that all was going well, and I hated the thought of going home to my friends to announce that all had gone down the crapper. My love life had been shot to death by the man I wanted to be my husband, and my future had gone with him.
The break up had been thought of and executed in our great get away to Finland.
It was the first time we had been able to travel together, for the jerk had always been too proud to let me play for his expenses. Finland had been our choice after much careful debate, but at the end it had all come down to my selfish wishes.
I had wanted to go to Finland to kill a couple of birds with one stone. Finland was the land of my dreams, though I had no certain idea as to why, it was the perfect get away for lovers’ seeking a peaceful and beautiful atmosphere to enjoy themselves and it was the home of my favourite band, which were to start a new tour. I had never been able to go to any of their concerts, my home in Puerto Rico wasn’t really visited by European rock bands, and whenever they were close in the United States, I always had some big test or report or too much work to give myself the luxury of going to see them. It had been very much exciting the prospect of that perfect vacation with the love of my life, but four days before the concert, and a week in since we had gotten to Finland, the jerk of my boyfriend announced that he needed time for himself.
The jerk had been bugging me with marriage for some time, and though I knew I wanted to marry him, I would say nothing because I knew his thoughts of it. He had always commented on how we would never get married, and I believed him even though I allowed myself to dream. I didn’t believe in marriage that much either, but it was something that would eventually be done. I merged my views with his and followed him patiently.
Four days from the concert we had a serious talk, to which he announced that he needed time for himself to think over the evolution our relationship was going to take. At first I had no idea of what he spoke off, and I was prepared to agree to his wishes when it hit me that it was only now that he was thinking of his future with me, and it visibly sadden me so much that it triggered our greatest fight, and break up.
Obviously I felt incredibly responsible and my horrible thoughts were given wood to the fire when the jerk packed his bag and returned home without speaking to me. Just like that, I was abandoned and all my hopes of a safe and cordial make-up were destroyed.
So, I had spent four days trapped in a hotel room, drowning in my self-pity for I possibly destroyed my own future. The lack of food had forced me to go out; though it was the last thing I wanted. I felt like the world shunned me away, and so I had no right to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. I went out and managed to get on the elevator, but the movement and the lack of food had my body fail me and it was no surprise to find myself kneeling on the floor, trying to regain myself. I could barely breathe as the lift went down a floor and the pain gave me a sense of claustrophobia. The doors opened, and it angered me that I wasn’t to have a nice, quiet and alone ride down.
At first I didn’t notice, but whoever had entered was kneeling next to me, speaking in low tones, asking me what was wrong. This person’s worry warmed my hurt heart and I couldn’t keep myself from breaking into sobbing. It felt terribly good when the stranger embraced me, humming softly as he patted my head.
The elevator doors opened and suddenly I felt strong arms snake around my waist to pull me to my feet. “Easy now, sweetheart.” The stranger said, and I was certain that my saviour was a man. He pulled me out to the lobby, and conveniently there were seats close by. Making me sit, the man sat on the couch next to mine, moving it to an angle closer to mine. “What do you need? How can I help you?” As he spoke, I felt like I knew him for all my life, and that also made me want to cry more.
It took me a few seconds to calm my sobs and answer him, and when I did look up, his voice registered in my head. As I stared at his face, I wondered how I couldn’t recognize him earlier. Then I wanted to cry more, but not because of my ended relationship, I wanted to cry because my first meeting with that man had gone that way. It should had been a glorious moment, where I would bask in his excellence, and beg for a picture, yet I was beginning to realize once more, things didn’t go as one expected. And sitting next to me, treating me like a lost child was Ville Valo.