Wednesday, July 21, 2010

On to the next one

At the night of my graduation, I became ill. Very, very ill.
I was meant to go on a date with Yaniv the next day, and although I prayed to G-d with ALL MY HEART to feel better. Nothing helped.
On the day of my most important day of my 17 years of life, the guy I wanted to marry with all my heart wasn't there. But Ilan was.
I don't know what I've done in my previous life to have deserved that, but whatever it was that led me to my graduation must have been good. Ilan was friends with a friend who came to visit. And although ALL my girlfriends HATED Tom, I loved him!
Tom graduated from my high school a year before I did, and so we did have some bonding time in Spanish classes. I said hi, he said hi back and that moment when I first laid eyes on Ilan, I was both so relieved knowing that Yaniv wasn't there as I was upset for the same exact reason. A British boy who seemed too interesting to get my eyes of off him came into my life the minute Yaniv was getting out.
When I got home, Yaniv gave me a call. We spoke for hours. He apologized for now coming and I was just happy to know he called. It was easy making conversations with Yaniv. Even though he would normally treat me like the "little girl" he also thought I was never boring and easy to speak to.
As the night became day my fever kept on getting higher. And no matter how much I wished to feel better by the morning nothing helped.
When I spoke to Yaniv the next morning, explaining to him how I can't leave bed due to my illness. He raised an eyebrow and figured out I was lying to him, realising he was too old for me and how I don't want to see him ever again.
Sooner or later he called again, apologizing for not believing me but something started feeling wrong.
I was in bed for a week, with fever whilst receiving messaged, photos, emails, sms' from Yaniv. He would constantly ask if I needed anything, I would constantly tell him I was dying to finally see him again. But something was broken. I didn't feel the same for him...
The day I finally got better, Yaniv sent me the longest, sweetest most romantic email yet. In the email he described to me how much he misses me, what I mean to him and how much he can't wait to finally see me. Though I didn't feel any butterflies- I was happiest knowing the man I'm going to soon marry is in love with me.
A day after his long email, we went to the beach. Spoke. Laughed. Nothing.
I couldn't hold his hand, because in my dreams prince charming was supposed to be the one doing that. By the end we were both cold, unaffectionate and though I didn't want to see it- I knew we were in a way done.
I kept on delaying our next date which quite frankly bothered him. I wasn't warm, and he needed that from me. He wanted to take me out that night, but I refused.
Friday night we didn't speak. Saturday we didn't speak. I refused to be the one to give him a call. I refused to know that he isn't making an effort to speak to me. I wasn't too bothered by the way I look for him, I wasn't bothered if we would be over just because I believed that even if we would break up- we were meant to be so life would yet again bring us back together.
Sunday- after a long, long day of looking a beautiful dresses for my next date with Yaniv, and countless amounts of stories of how we'll be raising our kids together still no message from Yaniv.
Until.... New message received.

Mr. Dr

Unaware at the time of my biggest fight yet with my mother about Henri- G-d was making his own plans. That night my cousin along with his good friend and two new friends went to dinner.
David, my cousin at the time was one of the more attractive single guys among my circle of friends and other youths in my Georgian life. And so, along with a couple of more single good looking guys he went to dinner only to find out that discussion would somehow lead to moi.
Talking about certain single, young, attractive girls, out of nowhere Yaniv exclaimed that he met a beautiful, smart young Georgian girl a couple of months before that dinner. My cousin unaware of the fact, yet aware of his status figured that 31 year old Yaniv's loss could possibly be his own gain. And so, shortly after first the first time Yaniv spoke about me, David somehow managed to ask him for more details about me. Yaniv responded saying "I met a lovely, interesting beautiful girl at a dinner party a couple of months ago, however... Suddenly I realised she was still in high school. And so, her chances of being with me were very unlikely given my age. She goes to the American school and has a lovely younger sister" David, who couldn't believed his ears asked for the name of the mysterious girl as Yaniv replied "Daniela"
David shocked told Yaniv "Daniela" is his cousin and this was how Yaniv, a very- very handsome 31 year old man became my new potential husband.
A couple of days after the dinner Yaniv and I reconnected through "facebook"
One thing led to the other and countless amounts of emails have been exchanged. My mother loved him thinking that he could possibly be just as good as Henri except he would be living right next to me and so distance wouldn't be an issue.
Sooner than later, he asked for my number and we would speak to hours.
I was head over heels in love with myself for the most part and he was- NOT.
I was so confident about us. It was the "BIG REASON FROM ABOVE"
And though he was a very good guy he was not the man of my dreams. Shortly after we would speak came the whining. He would constantly fear that I would not be with him because he was 13 years older than me.
He liked me a lot, I knew he did. However- I thought that he was the one. I believed in it with all my heart and whenever he would tell me how he's dying to see me again, speak to me again, take me out to dinner, breakfast and lunch he really made me believe we're meant to be.
On our first date he took me to dinner at one of my most favorite spots in Tel Aviv. He complimented me, and by the end of the night, a little tipsy from my grapes cocktail I thought he was the one I'm going to marry. Continuous amounts of sms'. He would always tell me how much he misses me.
I would always play hard to get- so that I won't sound too in love.
But only now I realise how much trouble he really was.
He's been going through some tough times, and so having a 13 years younger girlfriend wasn't an easy task. I would constantly have to calm him down, tell him that it's not an issue for me. We would have to tell his friends I'm much older and about to finish my second year of college. He would never call me Daniela. But he called me "Dearest Sara". I think he figured Sara is more of a motherly, grown up name and though Sara was really my name I lost my "Daniela" and all the youth I possessed while being with him..
Yaniv, was very strict and it was hard for us to let go of our egos. The age difference scared him more than anything... And then came commitment.
He met with my father after our first date, right before our second. Yaniv told my father how he's very serious about "us" and how he could really see us forming a family some day. My dad didn't seem too convinced but he said he would give him a chance given that I really seemed to like him.
By the time of my graduation Yaniv was my biggest commitment yet. I already saw us getting married, moving to London for a couple of years, studying art history in college and being happy with the most good looking, smart guy I knew at the time. I wasn't bothered with the fact that he had too many issues at the time because I was willing to sacrifise it all of the well being of "us". He did turn me into Sara and I was willing to do anything given that I thought he was the one I was meant to marry. Of course, little did I know, that I didn't mean that much to him after all.
I guess it was easy for him to tell me I was his everything, that he would fight the world to be with me but what I didn't see coming was the mere fact that he wouldn't even come to my graduation ceremony so that no one would recognize him and ask questions about his 13 year old younger girlfriend.

Henri

I was about to graduate from high school when Henri came into my life.
Potentially speaking- Henri was the perfect guy I could ever meet and marry. He was 26, very successful, understanding, lovable, smart, interesting, self absorbed son- of- a- bitch my parents absolutely loved. As a successful lawyer, who could afford anything and everything, make all my dreams come true with the desire of making me the happiest girl ever lived on this planet he was the "perfect" man. However, I've only learned to appreciate it a year later, after everything I've gone through now realising he never deserved all the jokes that were on him among my cousin and myself. Better yet- I would probably not deserve a guy like Henri if I knew what he was worth at the time and still make so much fun of him it would hurt even the most heartless people to know how harsh I am on a guy who's genuinely thinking that his destiny in life is making me so happy.
Yet, strangely enough he did have hope that there will be a future to our phone talking/ two-date relationship.
At the age of 17, I was off to my first date. After some emails been passed around, a couple of phone calls (on his behalf) and as many tears as I can remember I finally went on my first date.
Unlike anything I would imagine... I certainly didn't imagine crying hysterically when Henri called me from Kiev asking me if it would be okay for him to come to Tel Aviv instead of New York so that we would finally meet.
And although I did know it was meant to happen, and that I was to go on a couple of dates with him his question, I found to be a little overwhelming. So I choked in tears and said
"of course!"
A week after the last phone call received from Kiev, I answered my phone to learn that Mr. Perfect was finally in Tel Aviv- anxious to finally meet me.
My first date was on a Sunday, in fact all my first dates with whoever I went to at the time was on a Sunday.
I was escorted by both my parents who just like me have met him for the first time that Sunday.
He wore a navy blue blazer... I remember when I first saw him in real life, I squeezed my mum's hand and told her "PLEASE, lets go!"
She shook his hand, after my father introduced among them and then came my turn. There I was, in the lobby of the Tel Aviv Hilton hotel, speaking to a complete stranger thinking of all the things I won't be able to do in case I marry him wondering how can I get rid of him without being rude.
After a short talk with my parents, they have left Henri and me there all by alone finding it rather easy to communicate given the fact that I'm great at pretending.
I played the perfect role. I was polite, charming, sweet yet at the same time very, very rude.
I would constantly talk about other men I know, other guys I ever liked... And then out of no where I've received an sms from a close friend, who was always to me the kind of guy I would want to marry. George.
George was, my friends brother. My good childhood friend and for the most part also the guy who would be my "sign". Whenever things weren't meant to happen with any other guy George would surprisingly pop into the picture and help me realise that who ever I'm dating isn't the one.
But Henri loved me. He was fascinated by me for one reason or another. In his head- I was the ideal girl. The one he would see walking in a white dress willing to share the rest of his life with.
It's a shame I didn't feel the same. However, if I did feel the same I would probably either be very miserable at the moment or unaware of what's going to happen in my life.
As things kept on evolving, Henri asked me to go on another date with him. I couldn't refuse given that he gave up a trip to New York on the week of his birthday to see me.
I agreed, and we walked. We walked for miles and miles on the beach. He was very sweet, very well mannered and he hoped that this date will be it. He told me how we're going to get married the way I want, how we're going to go to Paris because I LOVE Paris. He said he wasn't going to give me diamonds on my birthday, just because I'll get diamonds and anything else my heart desires whenever I wish for it. And I was mad.
Furious for the fact it wasn't fair of him to decide that we're getting married without asking me if I'm willing to do that. Furious for the fact that I was going to break my parents heart knowing how badly they loved him. How badly he loved me from only a couple of dates and how no one else in this world mattered compared to me- and I didn't even care.
My mother and I would constantly argue about him. I would cry, she would yell at me.
Telling me I'll never find someone else like him- how I'll end up getting married to some loser, who will make my life miserable and I cried a little more.
One day, we reached the peak. The shouting was near to impossible to handle. She wouldn't listen to what I have to say because she didn't understand how could I possibly be s blind not to realise what's in front of me. I would always have to remind myself that she only does that because she loves me.... But she would make me so, so miserable at times it hurt.
Of course, I couldn't share how I felt with anyone. My best friend was about to get married, my high school friends would NEVER understand what a 17 year old girl would be doing married to a guy who's 26 and moving to Kiev, not even having her first kiss yet. I was all alone, still I always kept some hope, that one day my mum would understand that I chose not to be with Henri so that I would be very happy with someone else.
George, wasn't meant to happen. I figured it out whilst dating Henri. He was- too complicated. And though he was a very interesting guy to speak to, he had NOTHING, NOTHING at all compared to Henri when it came to how a girl should be treated.
That's when Yaniv came along.... Absolutely out of nowhere...

The Past Always Hunts You...

I'm not exactly sure when or where it all started...
I would probably guess that my future was already written for me the day I was given my name. And though I do believe that we all have the ability to "choose" I think that even those decisions were already made for us.
Some things should probably remain unspoken as some things are really- too hard to think of. However, the chances of us living happier lives if everything is out in the open is bigger than living whilst knowing there are things haunting us.
I've never killed a human being.
I've never harmed a human being- deliberately.
Yet, all the decisions I've made in my life have led me to this exact moment where I'm writing stories from my recent past. A past that for the past year has been haunting me regardless of all the efforts I make of making it feel- normal.
"We never touch people so lightly that we don't leave a trace" It's true you know...
I would probably have never ended up being the way I am if it wasn't for what the people in my past have contributed to my ever seemingly flowing future.
I'm blabbing and not exactly sure where it's leading me so I might as well start with what I remember as "last year's nightmare is the sweetest dream of today"
Last year, right before graduating from high school, or- better yet mid March was the by far the most hectic time I've had ever.
At the time, three men came into my life in about the same time, and well- for a 17 year old it wasn't as easy as I would imagine.