Back in my dark teenage years, when I had that journal with a three digit number of subscribers, because apparently nothing attracts people more than someone else’s misery, one of my readers wrote to me: “Nothing ever turns out as bad as it seems. Or as good. In the end, things are always kinda okay.”
I later became his girlfriend, a long distance relationship that only lastet about 3 months, thus ironically confirming his statement.
In real life, there are no happy endings, because life has a tendency to go on the next day. And the day after. And they will most likely not all be happy days.
On some days I am queen of the world, on others I don’t know what use it had been to get out of bed. On some days I could throw the Knight out of the house, on others I am proud of him and the family we have. On some days I miss the Witcher so much I wish I had never met him, on others I am grateful to have him in my life, even though he is hundreds of miles away. Every day I love Elsa. Still, on some days I am glad when she is finally asleep. Bottom line, I am happy to be part of my family even when I am overworked and grumpy. Bottom line, I love the Witcher way more than I suffer from missing him. Bottom line, Elsa is a cute little devil and she knows it.*
Elsa has become quite fond of the Witcher. Hardly a day passes when she doesn’t ask to visit him or if he will join us for dinner. She regularily writes letters to him, as far as a three-year old can write – randomly repeating the same three letters she knows over and over, then covering the rest of the space in glitter stickers and cut out heart shapes. Occasionally, the Witcher writes back and I read his letters to her. He also sends more glitter stickers.
The Kinght has never displayed a sign of jealousy. Maybe he has finally come to the conclusion that trust does not mean having control over your partner’s feelings. It means being sure that he or she will always be there to help and support you.
About the house… you could mark our relationship as “it’s complicated”. I do not trust it a bit, and don’t know if I will ever be able to get rid of my worry about the steep stairways or the subconcious dread that it might break down over my head any minute. But when I get back there after a long day in the lab, I am home. I love and fear it at the same time. There are still things in boxes I haven’t unpacked in anticipation of the need to move out again. Large parts of it are still a construction site. But I have collected too many memories over the past two years not to feel anything for it. I guess, bottom line, my house is just as much of a drama queen as I am.
* “Elsa, you little brat.” – “I’m not a brat, mommy. I am… cute. You are cute too, mommy. And pretty. We are both pretty.”