A housewife

Let’s imagine her life. She has two teenaged daughters. They look like her and her husband. They have her lips and his eyes. Her mother is Srilankan. Her father is American. She grew up in London. At 25 years old, she met her husband. He was handsome. They got married a few years later. She got pregnant at 35 years old with the first child. Then the second one at 37 years old. She gave up her model career for him. She followed him to his country as his career was more important for him. She was happy being home and raising the kids. They spent their vacations in Australia, in India, in England. When the kids were small, they lived a happy bohemian life. They could travel around Asia by motorbike for months. They spent Christmas and New Year’s Eve in the mountains in Switzerland, in the village where her husband was born. Ten years ago, her husband got an important contract in Spain. They decided to move to Madrid. They bought together an old flat in the Old Town and he renovated it into a loft, keeping the structure of the flat but adding a few modern details for the kitchen. There were no separation between their bedroom and the bedrooms of the kids. They lived in an open space, husband, wife and daughters. Their kids could sleep and play wherever they wanted to in the flat.

Eventually her husband started to become well-known. He got more and more contracts. His design in architecture and ideas of keeping raw concrete material in construction were appreciated. He opened two more offices in two other cities in Europe and started to travel more. At the beginning he stayed two nights in a hotel where he first opened his office. After six months, he said he was tired of travelling back and forth too much and asked her if she would mind if he rented a room in one city where the second office is. She said that she would understand if he found it more convenient.

The next two years, he moved from the room to another studio in a nice house. Same city. He practically only came home to Spain on the weekends. She did some charity works, mostly unpaid. She took care of the kids alone during weekdays. The weekends when he was home, he was invited to work events and networking parties. She followed him everywhere they were invited. She dressed up for him. She did not feel particularly happy about it but she imagined that could help him to show an image of a happy couple. People seem to fancy about how beautiful and harmonious their life was. She could not do anything about it. People always seem to think or imagine something. Would anyone imagine her in the laundry room during the week, in the kitchen, cleaning the bathroom, ironing his shirts? Would anyone imagine how it could be to sleep alone four days a week, in the master bedroom designed by him? People could imagine their lives and love life and marriage life as a successful life. No one could imagine the loneliness and the resilience that she has accepted to live through these years.

Eventually, he moved from a studio to a bigger two bedrooms apartment. He built the building and kept for himself the flat. He always came back home. He was more and more tired. Ten more years passed by. They talked during dinners on the weekends. They went to events, still. They went on vacations where he had the construction sites. Their sex life was nothing special but hygienic.

Eventually, the arrangement suited them. Their feelings were fading away or were a pale memory of what they were before. But there were the two beautiful kids and there was the celebrity that kept them together. She imagined and knew that he had mistresses or lovers elsewhere. A divorce was out of the question. It would cost them a lot emotionnally to decide for a separation, even though it might have cost them more to stay together all these years.

She imagined her husband with other women in his room then in the studio then  in the big flat. What did they look like ? What were their professions? How old were they ? He chose them carefully enough. They would not bother her, or them, or her couple. They slept with him and left. He gave them nothing. He took from them nothing but their bodies. He gave her nothing either but took from her everything.

Why did she accept ? As a mother to her kids ? As a wife to her husband ? She knew there were other women. He tried to be discreet, not only to protect her, but also to preserve the marriage and the family. She never knew why he would do that ? Their marriage was not what it used ot be. There was nothing bohemian about their lives these last years. What kept them together in this loft built in concrete walls was merely the laughs of their kids. And the idea of being a family, in a traditional way, a husband, a wife, the kids, the father, the mother. What he did outside, in another country, in another flat, had nothing to do with her. Or it had everything to do with her but she preferred to ignore. All these women whose faces unknown to her. As long as she could not imagine them more than some vague associations of images and fantasies of her mind, she preferred to ignore their existence. That was how she opened the door every weekend and greeted him with a smile. A sad one. But enough to preserve a family.

Advertisements

Replacement

lac

Moments you are not in my mind

I tell the sun

And all the beauty of this place

To be there for you

They are yours forever

While I am gone

 

 

 

In Tulum I have learned to miss you less

photo-58Last week I was in Tulum, Mexico. I touched base with nature and earth. Only me, the infinitely desert beaches and some palm trees. Mornings arrive early in Tulum. At five in the morning, I already found myself lost in the blue sky, barefoot in the sand, following the curves of the horizon, listening to my usual music. Then, nights come early in Tulum. At eight in the evening, there were only me and the sound of waves.

In Tulum, I have learned to live with an empty mind and simplicity. Simplicity in my heart, simplicity in my smiles to the warmhearted people around me. I have learned to live in the dark of the night, with no electricity in my bungalow. I fell asleep sometimes thinking of you and surprisingly, most of the time not.

In this simple life my soul has found peace, more than usual. In this simple life, I have learned to not miss you. Not to be obsessed by your absence.

In Tulum of quietness, I have learned to miss you less in order to love you more. Like the waves, these feelings of missing you came abruptly, hit me strongly then go away as quickly as they could. Somehow predictable like when I was standing at the beach and waiting for the waves to come and get me. I swallowed these waves or they swallowed me. I did not know. The difference did not matter. Then again, things came back to normal. Calm and quiet. Like the mornings. Like the nights in Tulum.photo-59 I have learned to write to you less than usual.

I have learned to miss you less than usual.

I was renewed.

In Tulum.

In order to love you more

Back here at home.photo-61

Remembering Phuket

I am glad I discovered the blog suhailabjj.wordpress.com, a fresh and cute blog of a 22 years old SouthAfrican girl who is a kindergarten teacher, starts Jiujitsu in Phuket to get out of her comfort zone and who likes cupcakes. I am thankful that you shared her blog to me because when I read hers it brings me right to you. Without any efforts.

It reminds me of Phuket. Nai Harn beach, Kata beach, Phuket town and those nice bars with live music where you can ask the singer to sing your favorite song, those roundabouts  with crazy traffic, the market and the food in the streets. And even Patong with its very bad reputation has its charm. I remember when I saw an italian restaurant with your name, and I went on scooter for an hour looking for it again to take a picture just to show it to you. I remember how I like so much the banana trees and the blue sky matching perfectly with the blue of the swimming pool. Life in Phuket, hectic in noise and dust but oh well, so cool and no pressure. Now when you tell me where you are, where you have been, I can picture your places because I have been there too. It is such a good thing you had chosen to be there.

Traveling makes us rich. You know it and I know it too. I am glad you could make this trip. And you are happy. Because seeing you happy is the most important thing for me. The distance seems nothing to me as long as we share what we live. As long as I can catch up with blogs such as the one of Suhaila.

This morning I am all about Phuket. I would not mind a bowl of rice and shrimps dipped in some delicious red curry sauce. I would not mind a “live” hello of yours or a smile telling me to take life easy, which I do.

This morning I am all about Phuket and every morning I am all about you.

A tourist

IMG_4115I was lost

The whole day

I aimed North

And ended up in South

I went East

To reach West

I was blind to directions

Uptown or downtown

Buildings after buildings

Where was I?

I walked and walked

I crossed town and bridges

Hours after hours

Exploring the city

My footsteps were hesitatingIMG_4116

I am only determined

To follow my heart

Running toward you

With no intentions

No objectives

No confusion

No hurry

I love you

In no directions

In no blindness

I was a tourist in the new city

I was no tourist in my love for youIMG_4098

Information about you and me

You cannot sleep at night when you are in your hometown.

You like to run when it is dark outside

You don’t take life too seriously

You love rain and thunderstorm

You don’t mind the bad weather

You like neat gardens but also when green grass grow wildly under your feet

Kids think you are one of them

You take coffee late at night and would like to sip it with me somehow

Apparently you look forward to seeing me

These are information about you

It should be enough for the moment

The rest I will find out by myself

I think you are pretty cool

I laugh a lot when I read your mails

I like the right tone of them

When I am with other people I write mails to you

But I think when I am with you, I won’t write to anybody else

I like your playlists

I look forward to seeing you too

These are information about me

It should be enough for the moment

The rest you will have to find out by yourself

Not yet cured

Forty-eight hours out of town

To an unknown city

Standing by the dock

Strong wind pushing clouds far away

Unlimited and tormented sky

Four seasons in a few hours

Warehouses, brown-stone buildings  transformed into lofts and trendy places

The port where I stand is still intact

Heart in normal condition

Pain under control

I haven’t thought of you once

Until this moment

Forty-eight hours without you in my mind

Is a record

Am I cured?

Not yet

But I feel free

So free finally

Like the wind

Sweeping away in one blow all my troubles

Remain nevertheless memories

Anchored to my heart

Heavy and rusty old memories

Like the gigantesque imposing ships by the port

Decide not to move in spite of the wind

The challenge of Tulum

“I’m the kind of person who likes to be by himself. To put a finer point on it, I’m the type of person who doesn’t find it painful to be alone. I find spending an hour or two every day running alone, not speaking to anyone, as well as four or five hours alone at my desk, to be neither difficult nor boring. I’ve had this tendency ever since I was young, when, given a choice, I much preferred reading books on my own or concentrating on listening to music over being with someone else. I could always think of things to do by myself.” (What I talk about when I talk about running – Haruki Murakami)

I travel alone a lot. The last few days I was checking for a destination at Christmas. I finally chose Tulum in Mexico. Pictures of one of my friends had made me dream. I had never seen such beautiful pictures of beaches and palm trees. I was hypnotized by the colors of the island. I said to myself. This must be the place to relax, think, write and read. My aim is also to go for a yoga retreat. I imagine myself practicing yoga every morning in front of the ocean. Unlimited view and free spirit. But when I checked the websites of the hotels. Every single one has a “wedding” section. This place like a paradise is for honeymoons. Pictures of roses and couples in white running to the ocean, pictures of candle lights and delicious dishes and tables set for two, all on the websites.

First I said: “Damn”. Then I imagine myself in the paradise decor with couples around me, newly weds. Every morning at breakfast. Every night at dinner. This is definitely something to think over before booking the ticket. Not the bugs, not the mosquitos, not the poor Internet connection on the island. The couples everywhere on the island is to be considered. Will I be ok and not frustrated? I think I will be fine. Being surrounded by couples still in love never depresses me. Instead it will give me joy and belief in something I completely lost faith. If I feel their harmony I will like it. If at breakfast they already don’t have anything to say to each other, if they look unhappy, if their faces are sad with no smiles, then I will feel relieved being alone and by myself. Either way I am good.

I am the kind of person who can easily be alone and not be sad, because I never feel pity for myself.

Of course I could also choose a destination where family and friends can welcome me. Vietnam, Thailand would be an easy choice. But traveling alone has its own delicious and particular taste and it always seems more tempting to me.

And then, it seems like these beautiful pictures dance in front of my eyes and whisper: “Come, come, come!”.

Tulum seems waiting for me already. And I am ready for Tulum too.