F*ck me, I’d be lying

The day was chilly, but hardly cold. At least not in the sense that we had to wear actual jackets – but it’s all relative, I guess. Swedish autumn warranted our turtle neck sweaters; mine being the rusty orange one I had bought in Copenhagen, and Maja’s was striped with blues and browns.

As always, we had picked our outfits out carefully; vain as that sounds it was High School, and man… we felt as though we needed to be cute for, well… High School. Images to maintain; boys to impress.

Though neither of us felt particularly “in the running” when it came to boys… So many other girls at our school were simply gorgeous. I was jealous of Maja’s sex appeal… her physique and her lovely, big brown eyes… Apparently, as I found out much much later in life, she was jealous of my looks too.

I feel it’s safe to say we both felt completely inadequate up against the Swedish beauties that populated our school.

This day we felt somewhat attractive; attractive enough to warrant taking pictures… Mine as above was on the stairs along the side of the school, previously having taken a picture of Maja around in a corner by the door – she was wearing jeans and her high heeled black boots, holding her coffee up, one leg up on the wall behind her and a flirtatious smile on her face. I remember it well. I wished I could be half as gorgeous…

mahanulliandme(Maja is looking for the picture of herself in question – but in the meantime this can easily illustrate how drop dead gorgeous Maja was/is… this is from around the same time period… and hey, she’s even holding a drink in this one too 😉 …if she finds it, I’ll update this image.)


Prior to taking the pictures, we walked down to the first floor where the cafe was near the cafeteria itself. We got our coffees, along with either weinerbröd or kanelbulle as the picture of myself suggests.

We would have been chattering amongst ourselves; I am about 96.5 % positive I was likely whining and/or pining about Dan. While the likelihood of me being involved somehow with Sven at this point is high (I can tell as the sweater I am wearing was bought during the trip to Denmark in which I met him), the majority of our conversations did center around me wishing things were different with Dan… or exams, or her “bat shit crazy lady” of an Aunt, or other men, or whatever the fuck else… and Dan… Always circling back to Dan. Though she could hardly mask her disdain of him, she did the dutiful BFF commiserating and advice giving.

I’m sure I annoyed the living crap out of her talking about him sometimes.

I look at this picture of myself now, wishing I were half as cute as I used to be… and also wondering what the hell he ever saw in me… Yeah, so maybe I wasn’t as ugly/unfit/unattractive as I felt I was at the time… But I most certainly wasn’t his type. Not dressed like this anyway.

He told me once he liked me at the time because I was attractive and bubbly or something to that effect – I can’t remember his exact words – I hope on some level that was true… Though I have some doubts even now. Like I said… I didn’t appear to be his type.

And, you know, I’d like to say he wasn’t my type either… But fuck me, I’d be lying.




Taylor Swift Gets Me : Reprise

While we’re on the topic of Taylor Swift, I went back and perused my posts from February 2015 – when I started this blog – and came across one of the first posts I had written that was also a I-have-a-girl-crush-on-Taylor kind of post.

What I had done is compiled and mashed up several of her lyrics that I felt outlined my love life. I wrote it straight through without explaining who was who – I guess half expecting I’d make it clear enough eventually through the blog.

Well, I decided just now to go ahead and revise it. Make it clear who was who and polish it up a bit – making changes as to past tense etc so it flows better… As well as add some for Viktor, so he wouldn’t be so left out 😉 Also notice that Dane was included though he is a BFF not a past boyfriend. I still consider him as “one of my boys” in my life though… so there you go.

You can; however, still find the original here.


I was reminiscing the other day, while having coffee all alone and lord it took me away… We were both young when I first saw you; I close my eyes and the flashback starts:

Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted, did you have to hit me where I’m weak, Baby, I couldn’t breathe. These kinds of wounds they last and they last… Cause when you’re fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you’re gonna believe them; all I wanted was to be wanted.

I wish I could go back and tell myself what I know now. Stupid girl, I should have known. Maybe I was naïve, got lost in your eyes and never really had a chance. My mistake, I didn’t know how to be in love.

You took a swing, I took it hard and down here from the ground, I see who you are. I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing.

You were so casually cruel in the name of being honest. I’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here cause I remember it all.

“Baby, I miss you and I swear I’m gonna change, trust me.” You wore your best apology.

That was the last time I let you in my door. “This is the last time I won’t hurt you anymore.” You told me that you loved me and then you cut me down; I needed you like a heartbeat, but you know you got a mean streak.

You told me that you wanted me, then pushed me around. You, with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you used against me. You knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like I’m nothing.

I wondered if I’d make it out alive. It’s hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair. I might be ok, but I’m not fine at all. I remember all too well.

And then I felt so low I couldn’t feel nothing at all.


Your eyes look like coming home. I just liked hanging out with you all the time. Darling, it was good. All I felt in my stomach was butterflies – the beautiful kind. It was miserable and magical, oh yeah. There was something about it that felt like home somehow. Oh your sweet disposition and my wide eyed gaze…

Distance, Timing, Breakdown, Fighting, silence, the train ran off its tracks. I guess we fell apart the usual way and the story’s got dust all over the page,

but sometimes I wonder how you think about it now.


He said everything I needed to hear and it’s like I couldn’t ask for anything better

He said “you look beautiful tonight”

And I felt perfectly fine


New to town with a made up name, I saw you there and thought “Oh my God, look at that face – you look like my next mistake.” He was so tall and handsome as hell. He was so bad but he did it so well.

You looked like bad news, I had to have you. I knew you were trouble when you walked in. You were just so cool, ran your hands through your hair… Absentmindedly making me want you. I guess you didn’t care and I guess I liked that. I’d be smart to have walked away, but you were quicksand.

You always knew how to push my buttons, I’m really gonna miss you picking fights. It was a long six months and you were too afraid to tell me what you want. I just wanted to know you better.

No apologies, he never saw me cry, pretended he didn’t know that he was the reason why I was drowning.

I faked a smile so he wouldn’t see.


My lover in the foyer didn’t even know me.

Thought his future was me. He couldn’t see the smile I was faking and my heart was not breaking cause I wasn’t feeling anything at all. Could he tell that I couldn’t breathe?

Everybody loves pretty and everybody loves cool.

But I was so confused because I didn’t feel pretty, I just felt used.


I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress.

Cause I couldn’t help it if you looked like an angel, couldn’t help if I wanted to kiss you in the rain. We were dancing, dancing like we’re made of starlight…

 The only one who’s got enough for me to break my heart.



It was a moment of weakness and I said yes. I should’ve said no, I should’ve gone home. You were looking so innocent, I might have believed you if I didn’t know.

Even now just looking at you feels wrong.


We know it’s never simple, never easy, never a clean break. Nothing we said was gonna save us from the fall out. It was 2 AM, feeling like I just lost a friend.

You didn’t have to call anymore, I wouldn’t pick up the phone, that was the last straw, I didn’t want to hurt anymore. I just wanted to tell you it took everything in me not to call you.

…So that was me swallowing my pride, Standing in front of you saying, “I’m sorry for that night.” Your guard was up and I know why…

Because the last time you saw me was still burned in the back of your mind.


You’re thinking that I hate you now cause you still don’t know what I never said. Kiss me, try to fix it. Could you just try to listen?

I’m pretty sure we almost broke up last night. I was expecting some dramatic turn away, but you… stayed. I’ll be loving you for quite some time, No one else is gonna love me when I get mad.

For the first time what’s past is past.

It’s like I got this music in my mind saying “It’s gonna be alright”

For my new readers – you can find  stories about most of these guys under the relationships tab at the top, filed by these names. (Dane is under Best Friends.) Though the entire stories are in my book… available on Amazon.

A Kick in The Gut

I was scrolling through tumblr for the first time in months when I came across this on the Unsent Project page I follow:


I don’t think I’ve mentioned the unsent project before on here – it is where people send in text messages they wish the could send to old lovers, primarily, and the artist who set it up uses them in collage installations or something like that… There’s a template and the author writes the text as above and chooses their color. …and there are literally thousands on the website by now.

Many wax poetic, many are not written in a way that draws my attention too closely… and yet some are just a kick in the gut… As above. This person used the name I use on this blog for that boy… and the content seems so topical as it’s true. I try not to write about him or TO him anymore, but I still find myself wanting to write about him anyway. I still find myself caring and thinking about him once in awhile.

I’ve collected a few others over the past months – since around early February – that have jumped out at me. Some I relate entirely to, and some just made me feel their feelings.

Check them out, maybe you’ll feel something too… and if you haven’t yet, go check out the Unsent Project page. Scroll through when you have awhile… or add one of your own and maybe yours will kick me in the gut next….


This Should Have Ended

A friend once told me that my mind must always be on… She’d read my blog once in awhile and it just amazed her at how much I have to say and how many blog posts I could churn out.

I don’t feel like they are all that many – of course I go through spurts – but still. There could be much more if my mind could hold onto the fleeting thoughts that cross my mind a million times a day. That would make for a good blog post, I’d think… but moments later it’s gone.

I suppose my mind is always on… There’s always something there to mull over for long past the need to think. Often long past my bedtime too.

So now he’s on my mind again. It’s no secret that most of my exes and I are friends or at minimum still in contact as friendly acquaintances… That’s the kind of person I am. I like to hold on to people I care for… even if the romanticism has left. I like staying friends where possible. I like to know they are well. And the fact remains that some of us just do better as friends.

Someone who read back through some of my blog recently asked me why I kept messaging Dan the other day. Fact is I haven’t tried to do so since I deleted him from my facebook a few months ago. But this conversation put him back at the forefront of my mind.

I haven’t felt the urge to message him again, thank god. However; I’m not above sitting and thinking about him and me and why we ultimately couldn’t be friends.

This should have ended when I was in the 1st floor bathrooms, crying and beating my fists on the floor. This should have ended a long long time ago and not dragged out over the years.

But then it would have stayed ended if he hadn’t have shown up my senior year and pushed his way back in front of me, wearing me down when I realized he wouldn’t leave until I acknowledged him.

Why did you have to do that, Dan? I would have otherwise wondered about you over the years, I’m sure… But the likelihood of us keeping a friendship in any form would have been slim.

Now it’s 14 years later and I feel like I’m on the losing end again. I feel like I always cared for him too much. I always knew it. That’s what makes it so hard. No matter how rejected I feel or have felt by him, I still fucking find myself caring when I think about him.

But I won’t message him. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll show up in my inbox and annoy me until I acknowledge him again; but I doubt it.

Dan cleaned up over the years. Back in the day he did drugs, we had our differences, our disagreements… However; tonight I reread my Dan chapters in my book and then I thought to myself I liked Dan better as a youth.

I wish I could have some of those days back, but as for the present: maybe I won’t miss being his friend so much anymore.

I hope.

Rory and Jess / Rae and Dan

So there I was, re-watching Gilmore Girls for the umpteenth time. I’ve slowly made my way up through Season 3 over the past few weeks and last night culminated in Rory Graduating from Chilton.

Rory Gilmore graduated in 2003 – the year after I graduated Gymnasium. So essentially, Rory would be close to my age. Within a couple of years considering the age people usually graduate Gymnasium (19-20, I being 19) and the age her character was (18.)

This is the season that the main Jess storyline happened for Rory. Her bad boy; her cool, brooding, handsome boy. Her boy that made poor choices and didn’t treat her as well as he should have. Her boy that obviously cared for her on some level, but couldn’t bring himself to admit it or have an honest conversation about any of it with her. He left her without saying anything days before her graduation.

gilmore girls jess and rory

She had become “That Girl” she didn’t want to be; the girl that lets the boy treat her like crap, the girl that was in love with him anyway.

It was past midnight when I watched this last episode. I was tired; too tired to stop the thought trying to inch across my brain.

“You should reach out to Dan again.”

No,” I told myself.

“But you still care for him… You always have.”

“No. NO! Goddammit, Rae, go to bed… You know how this will end.”

A while ago – a couple months… several weeks… I’ve lost track now of exactly when… – I reached out to him as I tend to do a few times a year. Check in, see how he’s doing… have a conversation. He ignored my message, and I realized he had ignored my last one.

I’ve made it clear since Gymnasium how much I had always cared for him even when I acted like I didn’t. I opened myself up a lot about him in the last couple of years. We’ve had conversations here and there. He’s had a few rare moments of honesty with me.

But he ignored two of my messages that were a few months apart… the first of which was also months since the last conversation. I wrote another message a few days later. I told him of course he wasn’t obligated to talk to me, but that it makes me paranoid when he sees my messages but doesn’t respond. I never know if he’s just too busy and forgets or if he is shutting me out again.

He saw that message and didn’t respond.

It was much like Rory answering the last of many hang up calls from Jess. She told him how she felt. She expressed her upset at how he handled things and even let him know she thought she had been in love… and he stayed silent.


I gave it a week, just to give him time… and then I knew. Something I’ve known all along really… I have never been as important to him as he had been to me. He’s never cared the same way I cared… Or if he has, he pushes that side of him down as much as he can. I knew then I needed to stop trying. I needed to stop being the one that usually reaches out first. I needed to stop trying to stay friends. I deleted him from my Facebook friends.


It doesn’t affect me as much as when I was 17, 18, or 19. I don’t have to work as hard to push thoughts of him out of my head on a daily basis, but then I see the adorable brooding dark haired bad boys, like Jess, on television and it takes me back to The Courtyard. It takes me back to Stockholm; to Dan… and …Well… I can’t help but wonder how he is doing, and hoping he is well.


Damn, Son…

Jimmy posted a picture of himself and his daughter on FB – they were dressed up for some formal occasion and my first thought was “Well, Jimmy cleans up nice…” I commented that he had a gorgeous date, because he did. And I wondered to myself if I missed out on something not acting on my crush impulses when I was 16.

Nah, I don’t think I could trade what I have now… But sometimes I feel like I missed out on experiences I would have loved to have had… even if they didn’t end well. Ha, actually if I ever did get somewhere with Jimmy at 16 – Justin probably wouldn’t be talking to me even now. Probably for the best 😉

Even so… Even so… I wish I had been more impulsive or more forthright sometimes when it came to a lot of the boys I liked. Maybe that would have worked in my favor, maybe not… I have a feeling that Jimmy would not have necessarily gone for me. He might also have been dating someone else at the time too… though I’m not sure and I guess that doesn’t always matter in the grand scheme of things…

I’ve also alluded before that I regret not sleeping with Dan – though that was not necessarily my choice. If opportunity arose I would totally have hit that, lol… But even now, I have just deleted him from my FB; essentially deleting him from my life… and it’s still a regret. So I’ve had to step away from him again, that doesn’t change the fact that I regret not getting further and having those shared experiences.

I wish I got further with Pär and I have a feeling we would have if it hadn’t have been for the crazy girlfriend and his crushing fear of leaving her. His fear that she would injure herself or me; perhaps his fear of the unknown.

I wish I had the opportunity to naturally chat up that other guy I school I’d see in the courtyard… Joel? I think that’s what his name was, but we didn’t really know each other and the brief encounter we had proved he seemed uncomfortable using his English.

God, I wish I wasn’t so old already. I wish I still had time to create more memories of playing the field. I’m probably romanticizing a bit and I would feel the opposite if the conditions were reversed… Though I know not everything would be a good experience overall… but to have the experience – that is to have lived.

So I’m over here, 33 years old, looking at an old crush’s photo on FB. …Jimmy, this isn’t an invitation. Obviously we’re both married with kids and besides which any chance I might possibly have had would be long loooong gone, I know… But still, I’m gonna have to say what I couldn’t say when I was 16:

“Damn, Son, you look fine.”

It’s a Shame

It’s a shame.

It’s a shame that he never appeared to care as much as I did. It’s a shame that even with a decade and a half of maturing under our belts, we still can’t get passed old behaviors.

So I got older, so I took the chance and laid myself bare to him – for myself, really, but I let him see. I went out on an unsteady limb, it was not something I had ever let myself do before.

He read everything there was to read online. Who knows, perhaps he is still monitoring my activity to an extent. Perhaps he is still reading me like a book; like a private diary that paints him as a loss I felt for years; as a handful of regrets he hadn’t known he embodied.

We had a few conversations here and there, pleasant for the most part. Friendly, even.

But he’s fallen back to old habits. He’s turned into a ghost. I messaged three times since February… He saw, but didn’t answer.

I don’t know what changed since the last time we communicated around October. Perhaps it’s that nothing has changed. Perhaps we never changed.

That’s what we do. We don’t talk. We walk away and then one day it’s all okay again.

I can’t do that anymore. I can’t care anymore and I can’t balance out on a limb in hopes that That Boy will take notice of me once in awhile. I’m not a fucking teenager. My wall is being built back up in front of him again. I have to protect myself… My God, maybe I am that damn youth once again.

The third time was the charm that caused his deletion from my Facebook. Though it pained me to do, I doubt he even noticed….

And that’s a Goddamn Shame.