So there I was, in my student accommodation building in Kingston, London, just wandering past the door down the hallway back to my room at 3 in the morning. There were two small windows in the door to our flat, you could barely see anything through them, but I thought I saw someone standing outside in the corner of my eye. So I turned around and went back to open the door. It turned out to be a guy, a teeny bit drunk and therefore also a teeny bit lost. He was clearly on the wrong floor or something. But when he realised that this was, in fact, NOT his friend’s flat, it became increasingly clear to me that he just didn’t want to leave. He was stalling. We eventually started talking.
We conversed in English at first, because when you’re in a town in London where there are only approximately 150 other students who come from the same country as you do, it seems reasonable to assume that English is the way to go. But about 5 minutes into the conversation, he mentioned that he was from Norway. And just like that, the language switched from English to Norwegian.
We ended up talking until 6 in the morning. He spent 3 hours talking to some girl he had never met before, in the middle of the night, just like that. He listened to all my problems, told me he knew where I was coming from because he had been in a similar place himself, and said so many nice things to me that no other guy has EVER said to me before. This was an entirely new experience for me, as I don’t really expose myself to guys. I have terribly low self-esteem, and I’m terrified of falling in love. So I never have, and I told this guy I probably never will. No chance that I will ever developing feelings like that for another human being.
But of course, I already had. I just did my best to hide it, and I succeeded. I usually do, with most of the things I feel. I hide my feelings until I can’t bear it anymore. It’s what I do, because I just think it’s WRONG for me to actually feel things. Especially having feelings for someone else, because there is no reason why they should feel the same way about me.
I was bullied in secondary school, when I was 14 and 15. They told me every single day how I was too ugly to be alive, and that I wasn’t worth anything, and so on. I told this guy about those years, and how they shattered my self-esteem and completely ruined my life. I’m still trying to deal with it, 6 years later. And he said I shouldn’t believe those things just because those people said it, because they were not worth listening to. It’s not true, he said. You are beautiful.
I have no idea why he said that. I mean, sure, to make me feel better, but why did he stay for 3 hours, why did he say a million nice things to me? Why? This scared me more than words could possibly express. I tried to act as if I was unaffected. Piece of cake.
About a month or so later I moved back home because I was sick and depressed and couldn’t put up with the pressure of living on my own in a foreign country anymore. I never saw him again, apart from passing him a couple of times on the street. But I never stopped thinking about him. I found out that not only are we from the same country, we’re from the same COUNTY as well. He lives about an hour away from me. Of course this practically blew my mind. What are the odds?
Right before he left me that morning, he told me I could come down and see him whenever, if I wanted to talk. I knew I would never, because I wouldn’t dare. He had changed something in me, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. It wasn’t safe.
Several months later, in early May, I was back in Kingston visiting some friends of mine. I got a bit drunk and decided to text him, just to say that I was back in town and would like to see him. So I asked a mutual friend of ours for his number. How silly, right? Of course he didn’t respond. It broke me. After so many months of not being able to get him out of my mind, I finally made myself contact him. Just DO IT, you know? I had somehow managed to make myself believe that he was different from other people.
Well, he wasn’t. The guards are back up. I refuse to let someone get to me like that ever again. I just couldn’t cope. It’s too painful.
I’m so afraid to trust people, and I struggle to see the good in them. I wish I could, but it’s so hard. Besides, guys never pay any attention to me. HE was the only exception, and he probably just felt sorry for me. I’m going to end up alone, aren’t I?
