I was very much in love. And the Valentines Day of two years ago, was the last one I spent as part of a couple. I looked for a blog-post of mine from that day, but it wasn't there. I did find a Love Letter from February 19th, addressed to the guy I was in love with, and initially, it surprised me. Not that I wrote the love letter, but that I *didn't* write about the Valentines Day he gave to me. Thinking about it now, I know perfectly well why I didn't write about it. Bear with me; here goes. He flew to Italy from Denmark, carrying a hundred red roses and a bottle of champagne. He had booked a table in one of the fanciest restaurants of Florence and had the champagne poured and the roses brought, just as we sat down at our table. There was also musicians and everybody's eyes were on us, and the lucky girl that received such lavish attention from her man. An American couple was taking our picture (he exchanged emails with them so that they might send the pictures)...
I let him look at me. All of a sudden I felt him there, in the doorway of my little kitchen, felt him looking at me, my skin tingling a bit where his gaze passed over me. I hadn't heard him coming, though I was very aware of him moving around the apartment, very aware of his presence there with me. Aware of him moving around, looking at things, taking in my home with all of his senses. I had been inexplicably nervous about him coming here, had cleaned up very thoroughly and tried to see my home as he would see it. Inexplicably; because I am not one to be fazed easily. And now he was standing there in the doorway of my kitchen looking at me. And I let him look without acknowledging his presence there; leaning casually against the doorway. Much to my surprise I let him look at me working, grinding coffeebeans or whatever I was doing. Refusing to turn my head, meet his eyes and break the moment, when I suddenly got the impression that he knew, that *I knew* he was looking at me...
So it took me some time to finally sit down and write again. And obviously i'm feeling all selfconscious and weird about it now. I have been wanting to write for weeks and here I am. Without words and without knowing where I should possibly start. Or end for that sake. Well, a lot of things has happened. Not only this last month but over the last months, i just wasn't ready to write about it yet. Not that I know I am ready now, my words will just have to show; I'm determined to ramble on for as long as I can =). Here goes then: 1. I sort of lost motivation work-wise . And I got it back again. Loads. And in very round-about-but-isn't-it-ironic-way. More in another post. 2. I fell in love. Again. And oh, am I living the fairytale. More than anyone can imagine. I like to think I'll write more about it in another post; it definitely deserves one of its own. 3. I decided to come back to Denmark. For good. Actually I resolved not to decide anything, but just brainstorm ...
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