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stephhannes · 4 years

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booked and busy

sometimes when i think about dating again i’m like “how am i supposed to do this when i’m not young and hot anymore?” and then i have to remind myself that i’m 25, not dead. it’s hard to not feel behind though when everyone i went to high school with is already on their second marriage.

speaking of marriage, all of my friends got married last summer. i get that pandemic weddings suck for the people getting married- but they were great for me, because i didn’t even have the option of having to be like “haha hey sorry i can’t come i’m still grieving the loss of my wedding xoxo send me ur registry.” for future reference, i am still emotionally unavailable to attend any weddings. i don’t even really drink anymore so don’t even think about trying to lure me in with an open bar- hit me up for your second weddings, i might be ready by then.

let’s address the elephant in the room: i’ve been lonely lately. i’ve finally gotten to a point where i’m not constantly in survival mode, the last couple of years have been tough- between the whole being so sad i thought i was simply going to pass away thing and being so poor that i thought i was going to pass away thing. but i’m finally at a place where i have a little bit of time to think of other things than “oh my god am i going to be able to pay rent this month?” and the thing i’ve been thinking about is how much it sucks to come home to…just myself.

in november, i officially moved back to austin after my departure due to the pandemic. when i initially returned, i wasn’t sure how long i’d be back in austin for. my lease at my apartment ended in july, and i ended up basically housesitting for a friend. and as the paramount kept having events, i kept extending my time housesitting. and eventually i wound up with a second job.

a coworker asked if i was available for a couple-day gig and i was like “yes, i love money” and that gig has extended until now. it’s not technically permanent, but maybe if i bat my eyelashes enough i can keep working. i’ve now somehow weaseled my way into the TV industry which is hilarious because one of my favorite pastimes in college was getting involved with film bro dudes and absolutely horrifying them with how little knowledge i have of tv/film.

with the second job, i knew that i needed to find a place to live. i also knew that i still didn’t make enough money to actually be able to rent anything in this hell city without a guarantor, and as a woman that has no financially stable adults, my options were slim. and somehow- i got lucky. the friend i was housesitting for ended up actually moving out, and i just slid right in. and now look at me! the proud renter of a house! i have a backyard! i pay way too much money in rent! i love it!

i love my house. she’s uhhhh, quirky- but she’s a place to live. in november, i began the arduous process of moving all my shit from abilene back to austin, a shuffle i’ve made too many times at this point. it took three trips, but i eventually moved my wares- a desk, a nightstand, a handful of kitchen items, my clothes. for awhile, it was pretty empty in here. but it’s finally starting to fill in. i spent my first couple of weeks building flatpack ikea furniture, and eventually started scouring the salvation armies near me. my biggest dilemma was trying to find a couch.

how do people with no friends, no truck, and no money get a couch to their home? i’d find a cheap one on facebook marketplace, but would need someone to pick it up for me. i looked through wayfair, but the idea of waiting for a couch that may or may not arrive in 5-10 weeks and need two people to assemble was too much. and eventually, my neighbor was like “hey do you want my old couch? i just got a new one” and i was like “uh yes, absolutely.” shortly after that, i found a chair at salvation army for $25. and hark! there it was, finally i had a place to sit down. as they say, every desk is a standing desk when you don’t have anything to sit on.

when it came to furnishing my place, i was willing to wait for the right pieces. when i moved in, i thought a lot about the place i had in philly with nathan. if i’m being honest, i hated it. all of our furniture was black, from walmart. it looked ugly, it was uninspired, but it was functional. and sure, at that point, that’s all that mattered. we only lived there for a month, so obviously there wasn’t time to actually move in and personalize it. but still, i didn’t want to have that experience with my place. in all honesty, it’s always felt like home. even when the only thing i had was a mattress on the floor of my bedroom and a bar cart. but now that it’s starting to fill in, it’s been really great.

when jose first came to visit, he immediately was like “this place has good vibes,” and i have to agree. when i first moved out on my own after nathan died, i moved back into an apartment that i had already lived in during the before times. it haunted me. even though i had filled it with completely new furniture, in a completely different arrangement, the walls still knew too much.

sometimes it’s lonely living by myself. i’ve always had a roommate and this is my first time where i’m just coming home to me. i miss living with nathan. it was all the perks of living alone (not having to wear pants in shared spaces, being able to be awake at stupid hours of the night) with the addition of the warmth of being able to come home to a partner. to be able to say “hey, i’m at 125th right now, i’ll be home soon,” and have someone excited for my arrival. to not have to stress about doing all the chores because someone else was there to lighten the load. to have someone to reel me in when i start spiraling before bed.

i had to have a weird conversation with myself when it came to hanging up pictures on my wall. i have pictures with all of my favorite people, which obviously includes pictures of nathan and i had to take a moment to ask myself “does seeing his face every day still make me happy?” when i try to make myself sad, i’ll go through all the pictures of him on my phone. and for a period of time, catching the glimpses of us hanging on my wall would put me in a weird mood. i ended up leaving the pictures up. i hate thinking about the day i’ll eventually take them down.

becoming a home-renter has taken a village. from my friend advocating for me to make sure i got the lease, to jose and dan coming here on the weekends to do all the stuff i just don’t have time for (yard work, knocking down wasp nests, cleaning my blinds), to everyone that’s given me furniture or other home goods. and most recently, my friends that let me live with them during the snowstorm because my home became uninhabitable because one of her quirks is that she’s impossible to keep warm!

i’ve felt so supported by my friends lately, which has been dope- but there’s still a lingering emptiness. starting next week, i’m going to attempt to fill that emptiness with 50mg of zoloft (yes, ya girl finally got an anti-depressant prescription), but realistically, i know that i’m missing having a partner.

something i’ve noticed a lot on The Apps is that dudes will put “no kids, never married” in their bio, and while i do appreciate the child disclaimer- the whole ‘never married’ disclaimer sends me on a spiral. because like, yeah i’ve never technically been married, but i feel like that’s an even worse way to try to explain my past than just being like “yes i’m 25 yes i’m a widow yes we exist,” and it’s like- why are you seeing that and addressing it like it’s a red flag? shouldn’t be a good sign that there’s been at least one person who liked me enough to want to marry me? i still haven’t worked out the best way to navigate the whole “haha yeah i’m a widow” conversation, as you can imagine, it’s A Lot to ingest.

(also, a quick side tangent- over the last few months, my blog has gotten a lot more hits, like literally thousands more than usual, and as a result of that, i’ve been getting a lot of pushback because of the way that i refer to myself as a widow even though i wasn’t married. i’ve never had to make this disclaimer to anyone that knows me in real life, because they get it. but i wanted to make a quick disclaimer to anyone that’s ever thought “lol this poor grieving woman isn’t a widow!!! i must tell her in a very rude way!!!” literally the only reason i wasn’t legally married was because nathan died before we could get married. in every other aspect, we were married. we had joint finances, we were on a lease together, but more importantly, every decision we made was with the other person in mind and with the intent of bettering each others’ lives- we were very much A Unit. being legally married doesn’t legitimize a relationship in any sort of significant way, other than….legally. the whole point of marriage is to promise to take care of someone until they (or you) die, and that’s exactly what i did. and by that merit, yeah, i do refer to myself as a widow. if you want to be technical about it, legally, no i’m not a widow…but like….get over it….are you really going to argue semantics with someone that lost their partner?)

ok so back to the hell that is Being On Dating Apps. i’ve done my time, i’ve put in my work, and when nathan and i got together i was so excited that i didn’t have to date ever again because honestly, i hate it. and now look at me, back in business.

it’s exhausting being this unimpressed by men. my arms are tired from having to carry every conversation.

i’ve talked about the first date i went on after nathan died, but the second one is truly a train wreck that needs to be witnessed.

picture this: i’m on bumble, and i start talking to this dude that’s like….pretty decent. we’re having a good enough conversation, and eventually he’s like “hey! let’s get lunch this week” and like an unsuspecting fool, i said yes. so we go to lunch, and once again, things are surprisingly normal. until eventually, he looks me in the eyes and says with his whole heart- “hey, i’ve gotta be honest with you. i’m actually a magician, i recognized you on bumble from in & of itself and i really just wanted to pick your brain and ask some questions about the show,” and i immediately was like “oh yeah for sure, let me run to the bathroom real quick and then we can discuss magic” and then i literally made myself disappear. i just left. poof. no trace of me to be found again.

i’ve always said that i hate magic because if i wanted to get lied to i would just do it for free by talking to a man- and boy, have i always been right.

anyway, now i live in fear of being bamboozled by a magician again.

one time i let my friend swipe through my apps for me, and she was like “you sure do match with a lot of people named nathan,” and i was like “yeah, i think it’s the trauma.” i went through a phase where i’d swipe right on anyone with any sort of commonality with nathan….like literally anything. i’d see someone that graduated from columbia and i’d be like “ok that works” or like…..i’d see a picture of someone playing a trumpet and i’d just swipe right.

i’ve tried to break myself of that habit because like, that’s not fair to the other person but sometimes i recognize those little patterns and it’s just a little reminder of how i’m still broken.

when i’ve mentioned being back on apps, sometimes people are like “omg how did you move on? i couldn’t imagine dating someone else” and first of all- bold of you to assume i’ve moved on, also bold of you to assume that it’s not totally terrifying to me. being back on apps isn’t the same thing as being in a relationship with someone else. just because i’ve been casually talking to people doesn’t necessarily mean anything substantial. it’s progress, but the thought of having to be genuinely vulnerable around someone else is hard to wrap my head around, especially now with all this additional baggage.

there have been times in my life where i’ve struggled with feelings of being unloveable. when i was in college, i was convinced that i would die alone. and a lot of the work that happened within my relationship with nathan revolved around getting me to a place where i was able to be like “i am a person deserving of love.”

i’ve had to come to terms with the fact that there are also countless other people in this world deserving of love, and i have plenty of it to offer. do i wish i was offering to nathan? absolutely, all the time. i know that my relationship with nathan is incomparable, but that doesn’t mean that i can’t go on to have fulfilling relationships with other men. right before nathan and i got together, in the time when we thought we were about to go our separate ways- we had this conversation where i was like “lol you’ll be fine, you’re about to move to new york and you’ll find someone better than me and forget that i exist” and his response to that was “shut the fuck up, do you actually believe that? i have what i have with you- even if i wanted to, i couldn’t just replicate that with someone else.” and i think about that a lot now- in the sense of i had i had with nathan, and nothing will touch that, or replace that, or compare to that- and that’s totally okay. that doesn’t take away from or negate the importance of theoretical future relationships.

i can’t say that i’m actively looking for a partner right now, but if the opportunity presents itself, i’m not opposed to the concept of dating someone. like i tweeted the other day, “i can’t believe that one day i’m going to have to be a mother figure to a straight man, yet again.”

ok cool, so that’s enough vulnerability for today- i’m gonna save the rest for my therapist xoxo

+++

the fun thing about having jobs (plural) is that instead of feeling emotions i just feel stressed. i can’t believe that i’ve finally become one of those people that has to be constantly doing something but here i am, working from 9-5 and then coming home to do chores and then scrolling through my phone while watching netflix because god forbid i allow my brain to have one single moment where i’m alone with my thoughts. some days i work from 9am to midnight and those are the days where i really don’t have any time to be alone with my thoughts. thank god!

i have been taking time to try to do more creative pursuits. i’ve been writing more- recreationally. my resolution this year was to become the most insufferable woman in the world, so i am currently working on both a screenplay and a stand-up routine. i’ve also been doing some freelance editing and social media consulting. which like…..how millennial of me to do.

circling back to the “having thousands more readers” on my blog thing i mentioned earlier, i checked my stats the other day and i’ve somehow gotten 10k page views in the last few months. i’ve been getting a lot of DMs on instagram/emails/etc from people that are like “oh my god i feel so much less alone now” which is insane.

after nathan died, i purposefully stayed away from all grief content- i didn’t want any influence on what i was feeling- especially when i started writing how i was feeling. i wanted to be able to look back on it and know that the feelings i was writing about were uniquely mine. and then slowly, i started introducing works about grief into my reading lists and i also remember having those moments of “oh!! other people feel this way!!” but, if i’m being honest, a lot of grief writing makes me cringe. i hate platitudes, i hate cliches, i hate when people try to give me unsolicited advice and i hate published collections of advice even more.

nonetheless, i keep getting asked the same question- “does it ever get easier?”

so here’s what i’ll say about that, it does.

there was a period of time in my life where i’d be awake at 4am frantically googling “can you die from a broken heart?” (spoiler alert, apparently you can). i didn’t leave my house for 9 months. i literally could not be social without having to step away to cry. it was impossible to function. everything felt so incredibly empty (and i definitely still have days where things feel meaningless), i was literally a whisper of who i used to be. and then gradually, it got easier. my chest was a little less tight, the weight on my shoulders was a little lighter, and now i probably feel the closest to “myself” i’ve ever felt.

everyone told me that the second year is the hardest, but there was a chunk of time where i didn’t even think i would make it to the second year. and then i did. and the second year has been weird (love grieving and also getting tossed into a pandemic) but it’s been better. i’ve been joking about it a lot more. which i’ve noticed a lot of people being very confused by- but to paint you a picture, one time pretty shortly after nathan died one of my friends texted me and was like “hey…..you haven’t made any jokes and i’m pretty concerned. you must really be doing terribly if you’re not joking about it” and they were right! i was doing terribly!

but i’ll leave you with this- perhaps the most egregious platitude of them all- it gets better.

but first, it’s going to be really awful.

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twistednuns · 5 years

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August 2019

India // It’s incredibly hard to sum up my feelings about India and Nepal. It was a truly incredible trip. And so exhausting. It was enriching, interesting, hard, disgusting, educational, everything. This is not the place to talk about my experience at length so I’ll just write down some nice moments I collected along the way //

on the go // the huge corner toilet at MUC airport departures / Rischart coffee / the smell of the Emirates airline NOIR lotion they offer in their bathrooms / cherry-flavoured Skittles // Delhi // brightly painted buses and tuk-tuks / eating at AB veg restaurant in Hauz Khas, inredibly delicious and cheap / being lucky enough to choose the hostel in Hauz Khas village; meeting Dominique, Christie, Ayush, Samar and Julia / all those talks we had about linguistics, education systems, the future, politics, travelling, home, friends, experiences with magic mushrooms, Hannah Arendt, travelling (…); talking to Christy about her past, family, criminal record / Mosambi juice / Nici constantly flirting with me, trying to seduce me. She told me I’m posh, assertive, regal and I know myself very well. Making out with her was fun but honestly… not worth the drama. / Mosambi juice / a consultation with a renowned Ayurveda doctor - I loved talking to her even though she wasn’t able to tell me anything I hadn’t known already; sometimes it’s nice to get the confirmation that what you found out on your own is exactly the right thing / eating momos and Kathi rolls, the best Thalis / parties on the rooftop until the sunrise interrupted us; grilling whole fish, saying goodbye to Julia, singing along to Louise Attaque and Cher songs / riding rickshaws through Delhi; extra fun: squeezing 5 people in and listening to club music / the sheets smelling chalky with a hint of grape sugar / dancing at Raasta / petting cute street doggies / a cooking class with Mansi and her family in North Delhi - delicious food and really nice people, I fell in love with the mum / eating at Social (that building is just amazing) and strolling through the little alleys and stores at Hauz Khas village with Christie; she showed me the place where she got her linnen dresses and we talked to a jewellery store owner for quite a while / the spice market, climbing up a building and watching the men flying their kites, tasting some street food and spices, realiszing that there is a market street dedicated to a single group of things like the shoe market, the jewellery market etc. / the Brit Brats sharing their joints; tripping to Bayonne / the hidden merchant streets with colourful wall art around the entrances / PANEER (!) / stand-up comedy with a female comedian / elevator selfies / learning about the development of Indian scripts and letters/characters in Sanskrit in the National Museum; erotic sculptures, very detailed paintings depicting badass, tiger-hunting ladies / I saw a peacock. Cows, chipmunks, pigs, horses, monkeys, goats, guinea pigs, bunnies, cats and dogs, bats, herons, boars, caterpillars, centipedes, horses, donkeys (…) / finding the perfect triangular earrings with gemstones at the Dilli Haat market; getting some nice dresses, too / living on water and mango juice, feeling very light and clean, having an empty stomach all the time / Gandhi Smriti, retracing Mahatma’s last steps before his assassination / feeling human again after a few days in bed - I love the power of make-up, bananas, fresh clothes and those pink little Pepto-Bismol pills the Canadian lady gave me / Delhi central station; just WOW. It’s places like that which make you realise just how many people there are in India. //

Rishikesh // the man helping me with the bus to Rishikesh; the kindness of strangers / “I thank the Lord for the people I have found” (Elton John - Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters) / emotional bus rides: crying for no reason, letting go, for the first time in a very long time; emotional turmoil, softening up; leaving people and whole countries behind / seeing the huge Shiva ceremony at the Ganges from the bus / my yoga teacher training, getting to know the other students / learning about a magic trick against bad posture / instant karma / the view from the rooftop, watching the sunrise over the lower Himalaya mountains / the simple, vega, ayurvedic food they offered at the ashram / visiting the temples with the apprentice yogi and his scooter; walking up 13 stories in the blazing sun, receiving a blessing and some red string around my wrist; taking part in the Ganga ceremony at sunset / the Beatles Ashram; it’s just this amazing place with incredible street art, and those ruins, the meditation caves and eggs on the rooftop… climbing up there was one of my highlights in Rishikesh / close second: visiting a meditation cave at the Ganges, a bit further up in the mountains; a monk had spent 15 years in that cave practising meditation / all the beautiful shops around town focussing on yoga accessoires / putting my feet in the Ganges #blessed #moksha / learning about my aggression during silent yoga / all the animals around town: horses, donkeys, cows, monkeys and whatnot //

Varanasi // taking the night train for the first time; I shared my little compartment with a family and three little children but they were surprisingly dramafree and actually quite cute / a sunset boat trip on the Ganges, seeing the ghats, the ceremonies, the moon rise / the little alleys behind the ghats; the stores, the surprises / Marnikarnika Ghat was really impressive; it’s the cremation place and I saw dead bodies for the first time / accidentally discovering the Dirty Chai Cafe (chocolate peanut butter shakes and fresh, cold mint lemonade), finding a Kamala Das poetry book on the shelf / spending an afternoon with the German journalist (so weird how the atmosphere shifts when you’re accompanied by a man there; also our dynamic made me feel so glad to be travelling alone, to only be responsible for myself, to be independent); sharing a banana and water surrounded by goats in Hanuman Ghat; the view over the river from his room; him gently stroking my cheekbone / buying two saris in a little corner shop / my jewellery quest (unsuccessful) / eating fresh fruit salad after hardly eating solid food for days / checking out that little park on my last day, the air buzzing with dragonflies / watching the sunset from the hostel’s rooftop, filming a slow motion video / India brings out trauma and deep emotions; the people kept staring at me for whatever reason; I kept having disturbing dreams about my dead father and grandmother; and the mob-video Christy showed me didn’t help either (the whole village carried a man through the streets, eventually beating him up because he couldn’t pay off his debts) //

Nepal // the first view of Nepal from the bus windows - how much greener, how much emptier it is than India / meeting some nice people on the bus - an American, a Brit and two Frenchies; grabbing dinner in Kathmandu with the latter / watching the sunrise at the border between India and Nepal / sitting next to the mayor of small town council on the bus ride; communicating with hand and feet / the Kathmandu valley is such a gorgeous sight / I got lucky with my hostel; Yakety Yak was a really nice and quiet place to stay; they even had laundry service and a shelf with free books - I read two or three of them because I behaved like a good (home)sick German abroad: bed, Haribo, carbonated water, trashy literature / visiting Bhaktapur, a gorgeous small town in the Kathmandu valley / watching the latest Tarantino movie at the cinema; the tickets were incredibly cheap / walking up the hill to the temple and the monastery, enjoying the incredible view over the surrounding hills; meeting two ladies from Austria, they live close to my old university town; walking to the centre through back alleys, stopping at a rooftop cafe, ordering three drinks at once (liquid diet) / that one jewellery store near the Pokhara bus station - I found some gorgeous brass rings with precious stones for little money / the busy square, the markets / hanging out in the hammock in my hostel in Pokhara, overlooking the lake / watching the skydivers land / the ayurvedic cafe and the other place serving smoothie bowls by the lake - it’s such a fantastic moment when you finally feel hungry again and eat a little solid food after fasting/suffering for a few days / two incredibly weird guys from Latvia and Berlin who provided a nice, mellow ending for my shitty day and even made me survive the mosquito attacks / meeting my travel agent who actually took me out dancing and gave me a ride on his motorcycle to the bus stop; he even gave me some fruit for the ride / By the Way starting to play while waiting for Vietnamese food / hunting down a place that sells semi-precious stone columns in Kathmandu; negotiating with the old lady selling them; getting some brass souvenirs for my friends and family / the view from the airplane - seeing the Himalaya for the first time; I pity people who’ve stopped looking out of windows //

Coming home. I’ve NEVER felt happier entering my apartment after a trip. Being alone. Truly alone. Silence. Three rooms just for me. My bed. Having all my stuff back. Toiletries! Nice body lotion. My favourite perfume. Going to the supermarket. Unpacking all the jewellery, clothes and knick-knacks I bought. Taking care of my plants.

Making a huge batch of my favourite ratatouille / pasta sauce.

Visiting Manu in hospital. Cheering him up a little bit.

Finally receiving my black and white analogue photos. I loved the shot of Andre looking like he’s being kissed by a dementor. And Lexi looking dead cool at ADBK.

Pizza party at Grano with Lena. Eating sorbet out of a lemon.

Riding my bike through the forest on a sunny morning. Stopping to take pictures of the beautiful light, the yellow flowers. Spending too much money at the garden center. Driving home, IKEA bags full of plants.

Inventing my signature manicure: a little black dot just above the nailbed.

Having an evening beer outside at Sofa So Good with Andre.

Stumbling upon Konsti. The one who ghosted me years ago after a beautiful summer spent kissing in lakes because his therapist had told him so. Well, we talked for a few days, but guess what - he just ghosted me for a second time. Fool me one - shame on you. Fool me twice - shame on me.

#things i love #august #2019 #august 2019 #personal #present perfect #india #nepal

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