And suddenly, nothing really matters

And then the Coronavirus came, and the rest no longer matters.

I'm happy and grateful I had planned to spend the weekend at my Parents' place, by the lake, in first place. Then on Friday, when the count of the sick started to rise, I secretly packed both our laptops, chargers, and a few extra changes of clothes.

Luckily, because then everyone panicked and they shut down all offices. On one side we are stranded at the lake, offices closed until further communications, everyone working from home. Which would be a nightmare from our flat in the city - it's too small for the two of us to spend the dy making calls and writing reports at the same time.

The downside is that we'll probably become seriously fat staying here with my family. Don't misunderstand me: I'm honestly grateful that, at such time, I can be with all the most important people I have and they are all in good health (ok Husband so and so, but hopefully it's not THAT).
But we will get fat. Bollocks.

when they drop the C word, it's always shitty

It's been 9 months since we first went to see a doctor about husband breathing problem.
He got nose surgery in May, but they could not remove a small tumor he has on his skull, since they're afraid of touching the brain. Just keep it monired they told us.

The breathing finally seemed to improve in June when we went to Greece - at least for a while.

Then it got worse, with more polips forming in his nose.

In late July he got a mild case of pneumonia - mild also because I got him on antibiotics on day 1.

In august he started complaining about chest pains, and his breathing is worse than ever - his troubles seem to be lung-related now, not just nose-related. My dad happens to be a pneumologist, so he checked him last week and told him to just have a TAC.

As soon as husbad left the room dad told me to have the TAC and other exams done ASAP because, he said, "if he has cancer you'll need to know asap".

Fuck.

Waiting for the TAC results now. Meanwhile, frankly, I understand why he doesn't  quit smoking. Let's face it, who more than people like us can understand that? If I can't manage to get below 60kg, how on earth can I expect that he can stop smoking?

we've barely slept in the past 2 months, since he has so much trouble when we lay dow, and I'm having more and more trouble keeping my shit together at work.

Wedding party

At our friends wedding, we're having big fun. Many of these people work for TV, and they know how to throw a party.

It's the end of August, the last real day of summer, and everyone feels this (despite the heat that is still going on and on and on, relentless over the past three months and tonight). Everyone is having fun, but they seem to put some extra energy in their having fun.

It seems like a scene from The Great Gatsby.

Crossing the renaissance villa's Italian gardens (facing the sea), I see my husband. standing tall and suntanned among the other people. His back straight, his stance confident, he's one of the few men who do not look overwhelmed by the heat. He's confident, at ease.

And I remember when I met him, it was so clear he was the only one for me.
We both knew it, right away, and as the years went on, things got more difficult - we were faced with more challenges.

I begged him to stay, try to remember what we had in the beginning.

He is charismatic, magnetic, electric, and everybody knows it. When he walks in, everyone stands up to talk to him.

I always have the sense that he is torn between being a good person and missing out on all the opportunities that life can offer a man as magnificent as him.

And in that way, I... understand him.

And I love him, I love him, I love him.



Post Scritptum
the politics opportunity is real. But
 would anyone really want to get involved in politics in this country?
 this people have a lot to hide, and I know some. I know they earn a lot that if off the records, and I'm not sure if there is worse than that
So I don't really think I'll do it.
I'm not going to say I sleep easily, as anxiety is big these days. But at least it's anxiety about what I do, and it's not guilty feeling (ok, lots of guilty feelings 'bout food, but you know what I mean LOL).

I do it for me, and I lie for you

When we come home, after the dinner out with friends, I wait until you go out on the balcony to smoke. As soon as you close the door behind you, I puke as fast as I can, flush, flush a second time, and hurry to brush my teeth.
Do you really never notice?
Mind you, I'm happy that you don't. If you did, this would lead to endless fighting.
But I do wonder, how can you not notice that my eyes are so suddenly bloodshot? You don't notice my foul breath because you don't relly smell anything, even the doctor said your sense of smell is 80% fucked. But you don't notice my red eyes, nor my puffy eyes and eybags in the morning, becuase every time you are drunk I think.

Forgive me for this lie, my love. I do it for myslef, but I lie for the sake of our love. You will never understand this, and I love you too much.

And then sometimes, only sometimes, I wonder... what do you do that I do not notice?

Nights

While he sleeps, he lays there, so tall and broadshouldered, and yet so vulnerable.

He moans in his sleep, and mutters something about his leg aching. Yet he is not awake, and as I see his distress becoming more and more evident, I try to soothe him.
Incredibly, he does not wake, but still gently caressing his back, his shoulders and his head, murmuring softly in his ear that everything is fine and that he'll feel better in the morning works.
He recovers his inner peace and proceeds into a more calm, quiet, (deeper?) sleep phase.

This always works with him.

Touch me when I'm sleeping, or even just lightly step in the room, or whisper a single word, and I'm fully wake.

Later in the night I wake as he shifted in bed  and is kissing my arm so softly. For a second I wonder what on earth possessed him to wake me at three AM, and again I realized he's fast asleep.

And I love him I love him



And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me.
We both knew it.
And as the years went on, things got more difficult - we were faced with more challenges.
I begged him to stay. Try to remember what we had at the beginning. He is charismatic, magnetic,
electric and everybody knows it. When he walks in, everyone's head turned, everyone stands up
to talk to him. He is like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn't contain himself.
I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him.

And in that way I understood him
and I loved him.
I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.
And I still love him.
I love him.

We were born to die

Fear don't fail me now
Take me to the finish line
oh my heart it breaks ...

Walking through Paris streets
is it by mistake or design
I feel so alone on a Sunday night
Can you make me feel like home?

(....)

'cause you and I:
we were born to die.

Sometimes, like all, being apart is hard, and I do sometimes wonder if our marriage is strong enough. Then we finally spend a day and a half together, and I realize it is the real thing. We are so good together, I wonder what took us so long to understand it.

Now S is gone back to Milan, I'm still here for who knows how long (maybe just one week, but then there'll be another project somewhere else, maybe back in Oman, maybe somewhere else in France, and he may be going to Brazil soon).
This life is too fucked up.

Heaven

Dear lovelies,

Autumn has come, and within 30 days S is moving back home, leaving the UK for good and coming home with me.

I can't tell you how happy I am. These 12 months have been hard on me, and I have missed him dearly. Now we will be back to our old routine, waking up together, walking to work together, sharing lunch with our friends, cuddling on the couch at night... oh I can't wait!!

Now our dreams are coming true

through the good times and the bad,

I'll be standing here by you!

And baby you're all that I want

when you're lying here in my arms,

I find it hard to believe: we're in heaven!

In the meanwhile, although we don't really celebrate halloween down here, I'm putting together a little halloween thinspo... I'll try to post it tomorrow!

I tasted the answer and my body was weak

Let’s start again.

Summer is over, I’m back to work, another year is starting. I got my promotion (yay).

Summer is still here, with 36° (97F) outside, no AC at my place, and worst of all, me at 138lbs (62.6kg), BMI 21.9 (disgusting).

Now it’s time for a fresh start. I don’t have any promotion in sight this year, and I won’t let work ruin my body anymore. I need to train pronto, since on October 4 I’m leaving for Nepal, where I’ll spend 2 weeks trekking around the Annapurna with dad.

Vacation was dedicated to family and mountaineering (1^st week, including climbing Monte Rosa as I mentioned, up to 4.554mt or 14.941ft), and then to quality time with S, love of my life (2^nd week, which included some hiking, a lot of sunbathing and even more love making).

All in all, I loved my vacation. I am fat, but I will get better very soon. I know I can do it, as I did it in the past. I have faith in me, and I have faith in you all, lovelies. I am still catching up with your blogs, so if I haven’t commented on your blog yet, I will do it soon.

I love you all and I really hope you’re having a good time. I’m sending you strength and encouragement.

Tell me how ugly I am, but that you'll always love me

Every year, for some reasons, I’m miserable for my birthday. It’s usually one of the worst weeks of the year.

Mostly, my family makes me miserable. They don’t mean to, yet they manage to make me cry every year. It’s true, I always say my bday isn’t a big deal to me, but hell, of course I’m lying. I do it because back in my teenage things used to go so wrong that deep down I’m still afraid of celebrations.

Steve will be away, since my birthday’s on Wednesday. That’s bad enough, but at least he’s flying in for the weekend. I asked him to take his Friday off, so we could spend a long weekend at my parents’ place by the lake, but when he bought the ticket he forgot, so our weekend will basically last one day and a half.

Bro promised long ago to arrange BBQ at his place on Saturday night with friends. When I called him on Saturday, to compliment him about his performance on a national regatta, I asked him about details. The answer? “Oh, I totally forgot. Sorry Sis, I’m working on Saturday, so that can’t be done”. I didn’t complain but it hurt like hell.

Finally, after planning the weekend with my parents, last night dad told me they’re leaving for a short trip on Wednesday and they probably won’t be home before Sunday night (we’re leaving on Sunday at noon, since Steve’s got his flight on Sunday afternoon).

Sorry if I’m childish, but I do feel neglected.

But the truth is, the worst thing is there’s only one thing that would really make me happy. The only gift I want is for Steve to ask me. And this is not going to happen.

Oh, also, Dad had something to tell me last night, after we went running 4 miles. He said I need to drop weight pronto. He said I look awful, that I’m at my worst ever and that I need to stop eating right now. And of course he’s right, but it kinda hurts when people you love feel that they need to say it, doesn’t it?

Maybe I shouldn't take love for granted. Maybe they just don't love me anymore because I'm ugly. And after all, I should have known it. Nobody loves failures.

St. Valentine and fasting

I went back to the gym, basically because I need it more than anything.

Winter will soon be over, and in less than a month my allergies will start: unless I'm very well trained by the end of march my asthma will kick in, and I won't be able to do anything unless I stuff my body with cortisone, which would result in gaining 5 kg at least.

So training is the top priority right now.

I'm not doing good with food either, and with Valentine's weekend ahead... well, at least on Monday I'll start fasting together with the lovely Marcus, and I can't wait for it!!

I love you all sweeties

I hope you will have a lovely weekend

xoxo

Bank Holiday fast

I’m fat.

I ate like a shark over the weekend.

Now it’s holiday in Italy and I am working. I was away, in a different city but I came home last night. There’s no one I know in my city in these days. Nobody to go out, catch a drink, grab some food together.

As a consequence, I realized the best thing to do is fasting. I started last night liquid fast hopefully until Wednesday at lunch (the Parents may be coming to visit to see the Christmas decorations in the city). If they don’t come, I’ll skip the gym and fast ‘till Friday night.

And then I’ll fly to London, to see my love.

I know I keep bragging about our love, but I still haven’t written the essential.

He asked me to marry him.

I said yes. The only condition is, I’ll only marry him once he moves back.

But I woke up and did weight myself, and I’m 125.7 lbs (57.0kg). Fffffuck, can I possibly get married this fat?

No way. So I’m fasting.

I really want to spend the rest of my life with Steve. I love him, he loves me. We are not perfect, and we both know it but that’s okay. Because Mr Perfect does not exist. He’s Mr. I’m In Love With, and that’s way more than I’ve experienced in a very long time.

I love you all sweeties. I’m sorry I’ve been blogging so randomly, being away is always complicated. I keep reading you. You are the best!

A bit of Christmas thisnpiration

How could anyone not love Alessandra? Impossible, the bitch's just too lovely

I can't explain it...

Stop telling me you miss me too much. Stop saying life ain’t beautiful without me by your side. Because I didn’t leave: you did.

I miss a little bit the air of that nights,

Or even just the soft skin of your back.

And that clock would never turn,

Just like me it was watching you.

I never cry about you,

I’ll never do such a thing, no, never..

Okay I confess,

I do think about you,

But I just move on

You cannot touch me anymore.

But then, I was thinking how useless it is,

believing I’m fine when winter is coming,

and you take away your warm hands,

you don’t hug me, don’t tell me how great I am.

Those memories that make me live through many things…

Flats, books, newspapers, things that are worthless

but allow you to go on dreaming…

Forgive me, I’d never want to put you in distress,

but can you tell me how this can be over?

I can’t explain it myself….

(adapted from this)

PS: 123.9lbs. Small steps, at least in the right direction

Missing

I’m back.

It was beautiful. But I don’t want to talk about it now, I’ll do it Tomorrow.

For once, my biggest fear is not the scale. I still haven’t weighted myself (I’ll do it tomorrow morning). My biggest fear is facing the emptiness of my flat.

Steve has moved to London while I was away.

Not only I’m back to a spinster-ish lifestyle. I’ve also lost the friend I could always count on for drinks, or for a late night herbal tea. I cannot anymore hope on my bike and reach my best friend at any time. Because my best friend, my favorite coworker, my love, my everything went away.

And now I have to face it.

Ask me to wear white for you, and I'll be yours forever

This body? I'd kill to have it!

Instead of asking me, he's leaving in 5 days. And I'm hopelessly in love.

A few nights ago he said "When in ten months we'll still be in love as we are now, we shall get married".

My hair looks just like that. How come my body DOESN'T?

In the rut

Every morning

When I wake up yawning

I’m still far away …

Girl you’re home,

You’re dreaming don’t you know

It’s just too far away?

Girl you’re home,

You’re dreaming don’t you know

You’re digging your own grave?

I’m in a rut.

This morning I stepped on the scale… 124.8lbs. That’s 56.6 kg for kg-thinkers like me.

I felt tears streaming on my face, and quickly wiped them as I was Steve wearing his contacts. While we walked to work, he kept inquiring on why I was so quiet and sad. I said I was a bit unhappy but that it wasn’t related to him. He kept bugging me until I exploded.

“I’m fucking fat. I’m getting close to 57, you have NO CLUE of what sacrifices I’ll have to go through to get rid of it, and stop saying I look good because I FUCKING HATE myself. I haven’t been at the gym in TWO weeks. I haven’t eaten a single healthy meal in 10 days. The house is a freaking mess and it’s dirty, and I’m running out of clean clothes for work. I’ve been working over 14 hours every day over the last 12 consecutive days. I CAN’T GO ON LIKE THAT”.

It’s unfair. He’s working almost as hard as I am, and since he moved in, I know he does help at home. But the truth is that living alone is easier, I just don’t keep food at home, avoid eating out, shower at the gym, so I even have less cleaning to do.

I love Steve, I just need to work less. Also, things aren’t going well at work, so I’m constantly depressed.

Steve is moving to London on October 22. On the same day, I’ll leave with dad, heading to Nepal, where I’ll trek up the Khumbu valley all the way to Everest base camp. Hopefully I’ll drop weight while trekking. In the meanwhile, I need a fast so badly, but I feel so weak (I’m running a slight temperature at least once a week) I can’t face the idea of fasting.

Since I’m on the pill, I cannot purge either.

Llorando (Crying)

Steve got his job offer yesterday. He has to move to London by October 4^th. Which, in case it wasn’t clear, is less than one month away.

I try to keep a smile plastered on my face, and I congratulated him and everything.

Inside, I’m devastated. Broken hearted.

I’m not even 100% sure he’s willing to try the long distance thing.

Fuck it, I’m no longer 18. I want a full time boyfriend, someone who lives with me, someone who wakes up with me in the morning on working, rainy days, not someone just for vacation and occasional weekends. If I can’t have a live-in boyfriend, I’d rather be single and take full advantage of it. The problem is, I’m hopelessly in love with Steve.

Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I’m only falling apart: nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart.

The upside? Once Steve will be gone, I’ll simply stop eating. Just like I lost weight when I was still with the ex but we were living in different countries.

Maybe, if I try hard enough, I’ll disappear before I suffer too much.

Dime tu que puedo acer,

no me quiete ya

y siempre estare

llorando por tu amor

Oh crap!

Oh, getting back to the normal life is hard people.

Therefore my lack of decent posts.

I won’t even apologize though, because I am under the impression most of you are away as well.

Let’s get straight to point 1: I woke up at 120.5lbs. Proceeded puking (no, I’m not falling in love with Mia, I just drank too much last night).

I woke up at 5.30AM, by the way. Why so much suffering? Because Steve had to fly to London to discuss about the possibility he might work for our London office for 18 months.

So yeah, today I’m quite unhappy, and I took full advantage of my unhappiness (i.e. I’m fasting). He’ll be back tonight.

Also, he’s moving in with me. I know, this is pure madness. And I’m hopelessly in love.