The Wink

Some of you might still remember this very old post of me about the first and second time I saw the beautiful Son of the Neighbours. But if not, here’s a small recap: so I have this neighbour (well, if you ignore about four houses in between us) who is very pretty and who currently doesn’t even live here anymore. But his parents do and he used to live with them. How surprising. The first time we met was on a lazy Sunday and I didn’t look all too well, so I was embarrassed to say at least. Traumatized is more like it. Then the second time we met I came straight from a holiday, and again didn’t look good.

So I gave up on him.

Now today my parents and I left the house to buy luggage (have you ever thought of how much luggage you need when you go away for 4 months?). I have been working today, and I’m not allowed to wear jewelry or makeup to work. Since the shop we were going to is so close to us, I didn’t put on some masacara or earrings. Then we left our house…

… And there he went, straight past us. And he winked. He winked. He winked at me! That might have had something to do with the half eaten apple he had in his mouth (one trip should be enough to carry luggage and an apple, right?). It was a good wink, not a creepy one. Of course.

I did my best not to melt, not to faint, not to run after him screaming MARRY ME! HAVE MY BABIES! Though it has to be said that this boy has an incredible disturbing timing. Why does he never show up when I look good? I take care of my looks so very often, and he only sees me when I look tired and boring? Oh well, our love is doomed since he lives elsewhere and is older.

But something about this is too funny to not tell everyone 🙂

Illusions

I create illusions. That is what I do, every day. That’s what we all do. Isn’t life meant to look better than it is all the time? Aren’t we surrounded by illusions?

Yes, we are. But that is okay. Because it does in fact make the world look better than it is. And that’s what I try to do with myself as well. Everyway when I wake up, I look in the mirror, try to see what needs to be fixed and start putting on makeup.
(Okay, in reality, I stumble out of bed, hit the alarm clock, try to find food, slowly wake up, and then look in the mirror.)
Makeup is a lie, but a good one. Everyone knows the chances are high you use it, but as long as you do it well, they won’t really notice and they’ll forgive you. I don’t really understand why guys are so opposed to makeup, but I believe they just mean they don’t like obvious makeup. Don’t tell me that they always notice foundation, mascara and eyeliner.

Then I put on clothes and go on creating an image of a person that resembles me a lot, but isn’t entirely me. Because with all the ‘fixing’ I create a sort of alter ego. It’s not me, but a girl more perfect than me, less human than me. I want people to see me as a girl who never has a bad hair day, who never wears the wrong clothes and always knows how to behave. They probably know that’s not true, but as long as they don’t have any prove against you, there might still be a chance they believe it…

It’s just an innocent thing, putting on clothes and makeup, it’s routine. But next to that it’s the creation of a world in which a better version of me lives, and I want the people around me to join that illusion. I’ve noticed that I’d like everyone to pretend they’re less human than we all are. Which is a weird and bad thing. But I want us all to be above human things. Then I go like ‘I never need to go to the toilet’, ‘I don’t need to shave, my legs are naturally hairless’, ‘I don’t need food’ and so on. It’s like I can’t really accept the fact that that is normal. And sometimes I don’t even accept it from other people. That’s the worst part. Sometimes I forgive them more than I could forgive myself because I know it’s an illusion I try to show, and I know that they’re normal and therefore will forgive me for being as normal.

I just don’t want people to discover I’m as human as they come. I try to keep up the appearance of a normal girl that’s still somewhat above normal humans. Above as in, not having the same needs.

It sounds way more ridiculous now I’ve written it down.

Whatever you do, be prepared…

It was a normal sunday during a normal year when I was 17. Sundays were never really exciting. There wasn’t a single reason to leave the house, so there wasn’t a single reason to put on make up or to dress up. I used to just pick some clothes and walk around looking ‘casual’. If only my family saw me, why would I do any effort? I’m vain, but also lazy. So to hell with it.

So I sat there, reading a magazine, casually as ever. Soon I’d do some more school related stuff, but I was  17 and life was easy, school was easy, everything was boring as it always was. How could I have foreseen what was about to happen? How should I have known? I only recently got to know we had nice neighbours, only four houses next to us, with even some kids a bit older than my brother and I. For years I suspected our street to be populated with old people. I was just sitting there, naive, not knowing what would happen next…

My parents, for some reason, left to see the neighbours and I could hear them return. But suddenly, I heard more than two voices. Wait – they were bringing someone? Oh noes, the neighbour. And I look bad. Sad thing. Wait – that’s not only the neighbour, that is, no wait, do I-

Damn.

A moment of silence. My parents, introducing me to the most handsome, good-looking, pretty, beautiful Son of the Neighbours. A guy like you imagine a beautiful guy. Someone who would make it in life, just graduated, smart, clever, living so close to us, standing so close in front of me.

Me. ‘Casual’. Looking crappy. Wearing some random clothes I could find. Without makeup. My hair quickly tied together.

Fuck.

My.

Life.

It traumatized me. For months I couldn’t stop thinking how stupid it all was, how I would never leave the house without makeup, o dear lord, what does he think of me…? Makeup was my dearest friend from then of. Never would I be trapped in such a situation again. I told my parents they should warn me (sirens, smoke signal, whatever) before bringing someone to our house on a Sunday. Slowly, the memory faded. No, that’s not true. I suppressed it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done what I did later on…

We went on a holiday, by car, and we returned on a random Friday. That holiday, I always met a friend on Friday, and as we arrived at home quite early, I decided we could still go for a drink that night. Of course I hadn’t done much effort to look good – sitting in a car for an entire day ruins every effort you do anyway. I still had the time to fix it at home, I thought. But as the hours passed by, I realized there wouldn’t be all too much time. Nah, whatever, I thought, and I left the house a bit in a hurry to be on time, by foot.

The gods conspired against me or something – right when I walked past The House of the Neighbours, the door opened and they all came out. The man, the woman, the wife of the eldest son, and then…

…the handsome son, in a white Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt. Looking better than ever. And I, I walked right, almost straight out of the car. Makeup? Barely. Nice hair? To be washed. Face overall? Let’s not think about it. Fuck my life. Again.

Since that day, I understood all hope was lost – I had to let him go. He had seen me in the worst situation. Our love was doomed to die. I decided I loved him enough to let him be happy with a girl who was fully in makeup when he met for the first time.

Ahem.

A lot of months have passed, but believe me, never have I been tricked again. I’ve been in a similar situation several times, but each time I was prepared. I’ve seen friends of a friend on the bus I take each Sunday, and I always wore makeup. I’ve met that friend several times out of the blue, but I always wore something nice.

You never know who’ll you meet somewhere.

Preparation is everything.