17.08.2011

There were tears in his eyes. I saw it from the rear mirror of his bike. I was shocked, but I kept quiet. I didn't really wanted him to know that I know he felt bad. I don't know why.

There are many things that I don't know.

I don't know why I told him so suddenly, in a pleasant night when we were both enjoying like always. Why I told him when he was gobbling up his spaghetti, while I was tasting the black pepper sauce on the fork.

He went silent.
This wasn't actually a news, we've talked about it before. When we were just dating for what I guess, two weeks? I didn't think he took it seriously, as always, he just think there IS time.
But this time he wasn't as OK as before. And I wonder why.

I've been wanting to tell him lately, to remind him that there are dreams of mine. And I wanted him to join me, to New York, to LA, to Chicago. Anywhere, anywhere in the US will be where I find my dreams. Dreams to dance, dreams to search for further dreams, dreams to direct, to understand, to see what performing arts are really ought to be. It couldn't be better if we can both go.

Yes I know his dreams too. It's simple. He just wanted to dance. To Lock his life out. And make money, and marry me, and have kids who can dance locking too. We want same things, but I was the one who want it more desperately, I was the one who know that dreams can be fulfilled.

And I blurt out those words.
I ask him if he wants to go to US with me. He paused for awhile, then smile reluctantly and said "Yes, of course", in the way he always did when he don't really mean it. He was just trying to make me happy make me satisfied and just saying it because he thinks that what I want to hear.

But it wasn't, it was never like that.
To me, I rather listen to the truth, than listening to what sounds good but not real.

I didn't yell at him like I usually do when I found out he wasn't speaking his heart. I know there are problems. His family, money. I understand. But I want him too.

We paid for the steak and spaghetti and went towards his motorbike.
He put his arms around my shoulder tightly, kiss my sweaty face, then pull me closer.

Then again, I said "I'm planning to go for two semesters on my third year." Which means the year after the next. He was startled and said "That's when I just finish my army service". I nodded. And that, means we will be seperated for two years. Two fucking years was what in my mind.

On the ride back home, we was silent. And that's when I saw the tears. I tried to hug him from behind, like always, but I just didn't. I have no idea why.