The Aftermath

Angry, bitter, sad, disappointed, bewildered. If I had to summarize my feelings right now, that’s what it would be. I’m trying to come to terms with what happened with you. I really do not have a problem that you do not love me back, that you have no romantic feelings for me. What’s hurting the most is the fact that there are no other feelings for me, apparently. I still cannot wrap my head around the fact that, on the outside, you can appear to be the nicest guy on earth, doing all the right things, when on the inside, you’re just shallow. Or you’re just doing them automatically, or by chance, by accident. I actually don’t know what’s going on in your mind when you’re being nice. It just never seemed possible to me that someone could be nice without realizing it or doing it on purpose. I mean, it’s a conscious decision for me, especially when it comes to doing specific nice things as opposed to a general kindness. Bringing someone a piece of chocolate or cake, not letting someone eat alone in a room by him- or herself, playfully touching someone’s leg during a game are all things I normally wouldn’t just do randomly to anyone. If I liked that person, I would want to be kind to him/her, I would at least somewhat consciously decide how I could brighten up his/her day, make him/her feel happy. And even if I am nice to a complete stranger, I would still remember it afterwards. It’s so hard to believe that you never even once thought about all the nice things you did for me, that I would even need to remind you of having done them at all.

The revelation that something like this would be indeed possible and that out of all the people you are the one where this is the case is crushing me. And it makes me so angry and bitter. How could I have been so dumb? So ignorant of this? How could I have fallen for an empty shell like you?

I tried to avoid you at your parents’ place this weekend. When we got there, I was able to still act normally, talk and act around you as usual. Then the first night there was bad. I could barely sleep. I even shed some tears. On Saturday I started avoiding you. I did not want to look at you even. I couldn’t bear noticing your body spray again, the usual lingering scent. When someone made a joke, I would not look at your to see if you were laughing as well. I did not want to make a connection again. When your mother called me over to her on the couch when she needed help with her knitting, I had to sit between the two of you. While I explained her something, your feet were touching my leg. Did you even notice? Did you not care again? Were you even aware of it? I couldn’t move away from it; there was no room. When I got up again, my shirt was stuck under your foot. You said “oh” and I answered “don’t worry,” but I couldn’t or did not want to look at you.

I also remember two other incidences where it seemed quite obvious that at least those things were done fully with intent on your part:  the first one was some kind of conversation with everyone. I don’t remember what it was about. However, you made a statement, loud and clear (so unlike what you usually do), saying “I’m just too nice.” Seriously?! That must have been a hint. The other incidence was when H had asked me for a favour. I was in a playful mood so I teasingly denied. H continued the playful conversation, pretending to chew on my arm and saying: “You could get out of it, if my brother did the favour for me. Do you think he would do it if I threatened to bite your arm? Would he save you?” Almost simultaneously you and I answered “no”. Mine was slightly on the disappointed scale (no, unfortunately you would never save me), but yours was so determined and firm (hell no!). Maybe you didn’t mean it that harsh, but then again, maybe you did. Whatever, you made it clear. Another hint, I guess.

On Sunday I also tried to avoid you. Maybe I made it even more obvious then. I have to admit I felt almost hateful towards you. Angry and bitter. I wanted you to notice that I am trying to stay or get out of your way. I wanted you to see me moping and pouting, being upset, being angry. After lunch, when the others got up already, it was just you and me at the table. I waited a bit; we weren’t talking. Then I got up, cleared the table. When I came back, I did not sit down again, but walked right past you into the garden, leaving you alone at the table. In the past, I would have sat down again. We might not have talked much then either, but at least I would have chosen your company. I doubt you would have noticed the difference. (Do you even notice anything at all???)  That day I also locked myself for about half an hour into the guestroom H and I were staying in. It’s in the basement right next to your guestroom there. At one point I heard that you were also in your room. Shortly after, I wanted to go back upstairs, but when I got out of the room, I ran into H who was worried a bit. He asked me if I was okay, if I was upset. Your door was open and I knew you would hear us, so I said loud and clear “yes, I’m a bit upset.”

I didn’t smile at you whenever our eyes met, I actually looked away quickly again. I did not give you a hug to say goodbye either. I don’t know if you noticed any of it. If so, you probably don’t even care. I really wonder what’s going on in your head at times. I saw you a few times sitting by yourself at the pond in the backyard, lost in thoughts apparently. What were you thinking about? Do I ever cross your mind? Do you think about our conversation once in a while? Or am I just an afterthought?

I don’t know what to think of you now. I don’t know what to do around you now. I would like to avoid you, shun you even. Screw up your pointless sharade. I should log onto that game every day of this week, knowing you’re still on vacation. And then wait for you to ask me again if we should platoon, just to say “no, screw you!” Well, I wouldn’t say screw you, but I would feel better to let you down, to disappoint you. Even if it’s just a tiny bit of a fraction of the pain you have caused me. I want you to know that you hurt me. But I guess it wouldn’t matter to you. I am of no concern to you in a good way, so why would it matter in a bad way?

Like I said, I am angry and bitter now. Maybe I am also starting to hate you a bit. It’s going to be difficult to get back into a somewhat normal state towards you again.


The doorbell is ringing. I’m stalling before I push the button to open the door. You’ll have to come upstairs, 5th floor. I’m pacing back and forth. So nervous. It’s ringing again. You’re at the apartment door. A deep breath and I’m opening it. There you are. You’re entering. We’re hugging to say hello. “Did you get wet a lot?,” I’m asking since it’s raining outside. “Just a bit,” you’re answering. You’re going into the living room, then into the kitchen to get a glass of water, while I’m still pacing around from one room to another, pretending to pack things together. I’m stalling again. What’s the point? Let’s do this!

I’m going back to the living room. You’re looking at me expectingly. “Shall we sit down?,” I’m offering, pointing to the couch. We’re sitting down, well you’re kind of lying down and you’re asking “so what’s it about?”
– “Do you have an idea?”
– “No, not really.”
– “Well, it’s about the same issue that I’d once sent you an email about” I’m shaking, probably blushing. This is more difficult than I thought. Can’t keep my voice and hands calm. I’m playing nervously with the long sleeves of my cardigan. I am daring to go on: “I guess your answer to that question would still be the same now?”
– “Yes.”
I knew it, but my heart is sinking. You are adding: “I have no feelings for you. And it’s nothing personal.”
I’m nodding. Can’t even look at you. You’re looking at me. There’s a pause before I can go on: “I expected this answer. The thing is that I had recently noticed that you did a lot of nice things for me and I wonder why you did them.”
– “Like what, for example?”
– “Well, like when you didn’t let me eat by myself at our friend’s house. You came into the living room to me even though you already had a seat in the kitchen.”
– “Ah. I didn’t even notice until you sent me that email afterwards.”
I’m taken aback. Wait, what? He didn’t even think about this? Just did this for no reason? This seemed to be so obvious to me.
– “What else?,” you want to know. If you can’t even remember having done this on purpose or not, what’s the point of even mentioning the other things?
– “Well, there were a lot of minor things that probably didn’t mean anything at all either, like during that long weekend at our buddy’s place.” I’m so disappointed. I don’t want to go on. We’re sitting there in silence.
– “Maybe you should teach H to be nicer to you,” you’re suggesting.
I feel insulted or that you’re attacking H. ” I’m not saying that H is not nice to me. I don’t know why these feelings keep coming back. I don’t have a reason to look for another man.”
Again there’s uncomfortable silence.
– “I don’t know how I can help you with this,” you’re saying.
– “I know you can’t help me with this. That’s why I needed to talk to you. To get confirmation that those nice things didn’t mean anything. Because I get confused at times. I don’t want you to stop being nice now either; that wouldn’t make sense. Besides, things have changed a bit since the other thing happened.”
– ” What other thing?”
Gee, you really don’t know?, I’m wondering. – “The miscarriage. One starts to think differently about things then.”
More silence. Nothing coming from you. No comforting words of empathy. I’m trying again: “I feel as if we could get along well, like I get along with my brother. But I feel these other feelings keep holding me back when I am around you.”
– “Holding you back from what?”
– “From being the way I really am, I guess. Or simply talking to you about regular stuff.”
– “Well, I don’t talk much anyway. I’m not into small talk.”
– “I noticed that already.”
– “But it doesn’t mean anything either,” you are adding right away, defending yourself as if I’d put this as a sign that you’d feel something for me as well. Oh my… this is not going well at all. You didn’t say anything about at least getting along well with each other. Then you’re mentioning that you inviting me to play that online game together doesn’t mean anything either, that it’s simply more fun to play together. “I figured,” is all I’m saying. I’m out of ideas. Utterly disappointed. I want this to end. So I’m concluding: “Like I said: this would be quick to talk about. We’ve cleared this up, I guess.”
A bit more silence and then you are starting up a conversation about that online game, as if nothing happened. So superficial, so shallow. We’re laughing, making jokes.

Even later on in the car to pick up H from work, we’re casually talking (even though you just told me before that you’re not the type of person for small talk).

At your parents’ house this weekend, same routine as always. I’m hurting so much inside. I kind of expected you to not have romantic feelings for me, but at least I thought there were some nice feelings, of friendship or like brother and sister, because after all, you have done lots of nice things for me. Obvious ones. But apparantly you did them unaware or subconsciously, without really meaning them. So when you said you have no feelings for me, it means no feelings at all. Nothing.


That’s the worst thing. I did not even consider this a possibility.

I’m not your love interest; I’m not your friend; I’m not your sister-in-law. I’m just your brother’s wife. Nothing else. I’m so utterly disappointed and heartbroken. I lost you. I lost your friendship, even though I never had it, I guess.

You Just Called…

… and told me that you’d be taking the later train.

I had hoped you’d be here earlier. It’s raining after all and you said you would take the earlier train if the weather did not permit you to go bicycling. But I won’t blame you for this. I’m just a little disappointed. I hope it didn’t show on the phone…

Okay, so now I got 4 hours to kill. I just finished taking a hot bath, getting ready for you (I washed my hair; I shaved; I even put a freaking cleansing mask on my face, which is something I never ever do…). I do want to look good for you today, even though I am certain that we’ll just talk and nothing else. And I am certain that my feelings for you will not be the same as yours for me. But just in case…

Puppy Love In Brazil

Tomorrow you’ll be here. I’m so excited that I dream the strangest things at night (and because we spent almost every afternoon this week together playing that online game together):

A quick weekend trip to Brazil with H, you and some random people I’ve met in my life. I’m sitting on a couch checking on the TV what’s the best way to get back home (by plane or by boat?).  You’re trying to find something in your backpack while trying to sit down next to me. There’s hardly any room, so I’m moving a bit over. Don’t want you to fall off. Then you’re sitting right next to me, our thighs touching (what a tiny couch!). The way we’re sitting now, you’re conveniently blocking everyone else’s view on me and they can’t see how you’re suddenly putting your hand around my waist, resting it there, caressing me gently. I’m blushing; my heart is racing. You’re looking at me coyly. And I know what this all means: You love me, too.

Scene change: Still on the couch, but lying down now, facing each other. For others, we’re distant enough, but we’re under a cover and you can again touch me without anyone noticing. I feel like in heaven. You’re looking all dreamy-eyed up the ceiling, then you’re looking at me, like a silly puppy in love.

Let’s go to Brazil tomorrow!

Just 4 More Days

So soon. Things are getting real. I’m excited, nervous, but strangely enough, I also feel calm. Is that possible?

You’re off this week already, so we again played that game together this afternoon. It’s becoming so casual lately. We talked about Friday, at what time you might be getting here. You’ll decide depending on the weather. If it’s good, you’ll do some bicycling and take the later train, arriving here at around 1pm. If it’s bad, you’ll skip the bicyling and be here at around 11am already. (Let it rain!!!)

Anyway, what I really like about playing that game: you always start it, you keep inviting me, offering to play together. You take the initiative. Yes, you might just be bored playing by yourself, but still…I simply like it. I’m trying not to interpret too much into it, but what the heck. Let me enjoy my foolishness for a little while longer. Until Friday I guess, when I’ll know the truth.


I feel like crying. So sad. I’m such a mess.

We had just played that online game together for 3 hours, just the two of us. H is at a birthday party. I was invited, too, but I’m not in the mood for social gatherings right now, especially not when there’s little kids running around there as well. It’s so exhausting to be around people these days, having to pretend to be happy and smiling when all I really wanna do is curl up in bed and either dream of you all day or cry myself to sleep. So I stayed home today. I knew there was a good chance that we might play the game together. And we did.

And now I feel sad. Don’t know what I expected from talking to you during the game, but somehow I did expect something else than what happened. I expected more. Some hint at what you’re feeling maybe. A confirmation of the images my mind has recently produced of you. Even though there was none, I know it doesn’t mean that this is necessarily the way it is, but… oh well, I’m needy these days. I feel weak, confused, down. It’s fun talking to you, playing that game. It was fun today, yes. I enjoyed it. But there’s always something missing still. I hope I won’t feel this way on Friday after talking to you in person, telling you everything.


8 days left. Only. It seemed like forever a few weeks ago and now it’s just around the corner basically. Yes, I said before that I would not be nervous to see you next Friday and openly talk to you about everything. But that was then, now it’s different. I’m actually nervous as hell… It’s so soon suddenly. And there’s so much at stake really, in every scenario I can think of (who knows what could happen in those that I cannot think of…). Let’s see:

1. You do not love me back: this is the most likely scenario. You only like me as a friend or a sister. Which is a good thing, yes, of course. I’d love to build upon that, deepen our friendship without silly emotions in the way. However, I am scared that I might not be able to handle this as well as I imagine it now. Truth be told, I actually hope that you love me back. My heart longs for you. It wants to be loved back by you. So even though I’d truly appreciate your friendship, I’m afraid that I might want more still and wouldn’t be able to accept anything less than your love.

2. You do love me back, but won’t act upon it: second most likely scenario. All those nice things you did for me in the past would be so out of context if there wasn’t more to them than you just being nice. So in this scenario I fear that I won’t be able to deal with being in love with a guy who loves me back but we cannot be together. It’s not just about my own pain, but I don’t want to see or know you suffer as well. How would we go along our lives, every time we see each other during family events acting as if there’s nothing when all we really want is to be close to each other, hug, kiss, make love, share our life experiences?

3. You do love me back and we go along with it: least likely scenario, but not altogether impossible. We are a lot alike, at least from what I can tell. So why wouldn’t you feel the same need to actually go all the way? But of course, the problem here is that I am married to your brother. And I am so afraid to destroy everything, really everything: my marriage, your brotherhood, my good relations to your mother and family, your family bonds with them, and so much more. Totally devastating.

All this makes me nervous. I’m anxious to hear what you have to say to all this. Maybe it will turn out to be very simple, easy to solve and we’ll both be happy after. Oh, I can’t wait any longer, at the same time I don’t want this here to end, the hope, the feeling of potential. Right now, I can imagine countless ideal outcomes. Paradise at the end of the road. Will I find paradise in your arms next Friday?

I’m A Mess

What’s going on? What’s happening to me? What am I doing?

I should be mourning. I should feel sad, angry and frustrated. I should be crying. Maybe I should read more often about coping methods, about buddhistic psychology. I should do all of these things so that I could get over the recent loss and get back to being and feeling normal. Instead I am going crazy over you, thoughts running wild in my head.

I’m impatient, don’t want to wait until the 26th when you will come here. Even though we agreed to leave whatever we have to discuss for that Friday in about 2 weeks time, instead of doing it via email, I still kind of hope to get a quick note from you, a short message to say hi and check in on me. Whenever you should have got home from work, I start – almost frantically – checking my mails every so often and get madly disappointed when there’s nothing from you in my inbox.

I’m so impatient that I can’t even wait for the weekend to hear your voice again when we will play that online game together. Each day is just crawling past me. I feel so bored, yet unmotivated to do anything. All I can do is paint mental pictures of you coming here, of us having that conversation. It continues with me having to cry and you taking me gently in your arms, holding me. And then you’re confessing your true feelings. They’ve been there all along. I can hear you say it, just the same way you did a while ago during that game: “Wanna cuddle?” Yes, I do. We’re lying down on the couch. I can rest my head on your chest, your arms tightly around me, one hand caressing my arm, while I gently touch your stomach, your chest. That’s it. We know the rules. We won’t do more than that.

But I have to confess my other fantasy: I also imagine us having an affair from that point on. You’ll have 2 more weeks off after that weekend, so I picture you renting a hotel room nearby to stay there. We’d meet up whenever I don’t have to work and while H is at work himself. We talk; we laugh; we cuddle; we make love one day; we have wild passionate sex the other.

Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? Is this normal? I thought I was over you, more or less. At least I thought to have gained some control. Now it feels so much worse, but at the same time so much better. I know I did the right thing asking you to talk to me one on one. It feels like we’re heading towards a deeper form of relationship or friendship. Somehow I am even more convinced now that you do have feelings for me, even though realistically I still believe that they are nothing more than friendly feelings. Does that make any sense? Gee, I don’t know what I am saying, how I can express what I am feeling.

It’s like I am heading towards that big conclusion of whatever this is here. I don’t fear the outcome. I am positive that it’s going to be good, one way or the other, no matter what you actually feel for me. I need to talk to you, be honest, get your feedback and yes, I do want to be held in your arms even if it’s just for a few seconds. I am yearning so much to see you again, talk to you. Until then, I am a complete mess it seems.

My Beacon/The Blinking Cursor

Getting over this second miscarriage is really hard. Even though we lost this baby at an early stage, the pain is there, full force. At the same time, I don’t feel sad, I don’t need to cry. However, neither do I feel anything at all. No joy, no motivation to do anything. Nothing. I just feel really numb. There seems to be only one thing that can still bring a smile to my face, that gives me something to look forward to, to enjoy. You guessed it probably: it’s you. It must sound so cliché, but right now you are my beacon of light and of hope. The one thing that gives my life some meaning right now. Don’t get me wrong, I still love H, probably now more than ever, after all we’ve been through recently. But he’s hurting so much, too. He’s sad. Crushed. We are not able to cheer each other up right now. We’re supporting each other, but it’s so painful. So I’m coming right back to you. It’s not about love or sex. I guess it’s the same as last time. I find strength in your silent comforting, your support, just you being there. Your understanding. Your friendship.

We told our parents and kind of agreed to also tell our siblings, which is my brother and you. At one point or another you’d find out anyway. So I expected your mother to tell you, but maybe when H talked to her he told her not to say anything to you. You only found out about it when I told you yesterday.

But let me back up a bit first: on Saturday you made a really thoughtful offer. That next weekend get-together is approaching, you know, the one when we are to talk. So instead of just meeting there and having to find a good time to go for a walk together without anyone else around, you offered to come to us on Friday, have that conversation here while H is at work and then drive up there together with us. You’ll have the week off so there would be no scheduling conflicts. When I read that message on Saturday, it really brightened up my day, made me happy. It was just what I needed then. (I told you…my beacon.) I didn’t give you a definite answer then, just told you that I wouldn’t have to go to work that day either and so it would be an option, but we didn’t make a “final arrangement” yet.

Then yesterday was a really tough day for me. We met up with your mother nearby. It was very emotional, lots of crying. She’s trying to comfort us, but with her it tends to make matters worse sometimes. She’s a wonderful person and she does it from the goodness of her heart, but I just can’t deal with that right now. So after that emotional day, I decided to email you and honestly told you how much it would mean to me if you could actually do what you had offered. And then I also openly told you why it means so much to me. I told you that we’d lost another baby last week and that things are rough right now.

I got your reply about 2 hours later. You said it would definitely be no problem to come here on Friday and that you would do it. You mentioned that your mother had not told you about the miscarriage yet. And then you said: “This blinking cursor is getting on my nerves. Let’s just use that Friday for everything else.” It took me a while to figure out what you meant by that. I guess you were at a loss for words and could only stare at the mouse cursor blinking in your email that you were trying to write…

I’m sorry. I didn’t want to burden you with this. I really thought your mother had told you already. I actually have no clue what this kind of news does to you. Do you just feel really sad for H and me? Or is it a different kind of pain because you might actually like me a bit more than I think?

I really do look forward to that Friday. Two and a half weeks still. I’m not afraid. I feel that I can be completely honest with you. And I am open to whatever you will have to say, to this crazy mess I got myself into with you, to your feelings for me (of whatever kind they are) and to H’s and my recent loss. I really feel this deep connection with you, some bond on a more profound level.

I am so glad to have you in my life.

It’s A Cruel World

Kind of off-topic, has nothing to do with you, but I’m telling you anyways… we lost this baby, too. I’m at a loss for words. I only either feel completely numb or lose my mind over this intense pain, the heartbreak. Missing you is nothing compared to this.

Losing one unborn child is terribly painful, losing two…it’s just intensely cruel. Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? I believe in Karma. I’ve always tried to be a good person, doing what’s right, being nice to others, caring for others. I know I’ve done bad things as well, but never as bad as to deserve something like this.

Worst part is – life around us goes on. As if nothing ever happened, while my life has come to a complete halt. Sometimes I just wish a huge meteroid could come crashing into earth and stop all this. It’s silly. But I feel so much pain. I want it to end. It was rough getting over the first miscarriage, it took me months. I can’t imagine now if I will have this same strength again. I feel so weak. Completely powerless. I want to crawl into bed and sleep until the pain is gone…