Author: TinderellaAnna

Anna is a character. Half-fictional, half-inspired in many, many true events. Half-European, half-Latin-American. She is happy, she is strong, she is a mom, a teacher, a friend. Despite the divorce - not of her choice - she is determined to be joyful, grateful, hopeful, sweet; believing that life is for sharing and that he is somewhere out there. But he will have to be as lovable as she is. After all, better alone than in bad company. Sigh: but better in good company than alone... Disclaimer: All names and places have been changed to protect the people who happen to be true.

Chapter 3 – A Change of Heart

This blog is a book. Maybe better read from the beginning? 🙂

 

Saturday, 2 January 2016.

 

Day 13

 

Dear Diary,

Things have been going quite well, but you won’t believe what happened! I was driving yesterday when Mr. Ex called, asking to book a time with me to sit down and talk.

“Ex, is it that serious that you cannot tell me over the phone??” — I feel furious for about ten minutes… Hey, that’s a new record for me, as I hate holding onto anger.

Then I get a grip and call a couple of friends. My best friend advises me to catch Mr. Ex off guard and really listen.

(Hmmm. Is he saying I’m a better talker than listener?? 😁).

 

We go to the closest Hesburger. I am feeling calm, but curious. Don’t ask me how.

“Anna, how are things?” — Mr. Ex attempts to small-talk.

“Just fine, thanks. But you didn’t bring me here to chit chat about trivialities now, did you?”

“Hehe,” — his fidgety laughter —  “Eh, first of all, I just want to say that in all those years we were together, I never loved another lady. You were always the only one.

Really?!

“Until now.” — dead silence for a split of a second — “But, I promised you that you would be the first one to be informed, so we need to talk.”

“Who is she?” — I immediately need to know.

 

Of course it had crossed my mind that he had another woman.

That’s an understatement. Of course I unknowingly knew it.

I just knew it.

We always know. Don’t we?

That time last fall when he insisted I not join him at the karaoke bar. He basically pleaded with me to go home and meet him later.

Or that other time when he wrapped his iPhone tightly with the cables of his earphones, putting the damn thing under his pillow and sitting on it, after I’d asked to look at my recent birthday pictures — what the heck??!

And that time when I asked him to please just tell me bluntly and he’d answered: “Annita, I’ve hurt you so many times in our marriage… I don’t want to keep doing it anymore!”

 

Men don’t usually get a divorce before they have found a new person.

Why would they exchange the comfort of a home with a wife, a friend, a mother and extra earnings for a new phase with less money, more responsibilities with the kids, and the added loneliness?

“Oh, Anna, she’s asked me not to reveal who she is to anyone yet. She’s afraid everybody will hate her and think she is culpable of breaking up a family.” — he tries.

“Who is she…?? — I pressure him.

“I accepted your decision to get a divorce, Ex, but I won’t take no for an answer now!” — I make it clear (and then try appealing to his logic)  — “Ex, you and I have been great friends, hosts and co-workers, right? But on the emotional level our marriage hadn’t been OK at all for a very long time...

“So, I won’t blame her, you know that. Tell me! — he looks thoughtful and nervously laughs a little.

“Ex, you’ve got to tell me!! — he’s still silent, so I threaten him — “If you don’t tell me…”

“What?” — he looks alarmed for a second.

“I’ll just complicate every single thing I can, from now on.” — I smile victoriously.

He chuckles — “Yeah, I told her I was going to try, but knowing you, kind of thought I wouldn’t be successful.”

Haha. Score!

 

So, the truth is out. 🙁

He’s dating a university classmate of his…! The one who got really wasted at our place, when he cooked his classmates dinner a couple of months ago.

At the time, I’d thought, “Who goes to a family home for the first time and gets stupidly drunk?” After which she’d kept hugging me and telling me how beautiful I am — WTF?

E%ur#g!h, I hope Ex gets really fat and bald, fast!!! — is how it feels.

Nevertheless, I consciously decide to turn the other cheek…

But it stings — bad!

And to sadly wish them well.

I’m feeling subdued for a moment. Stupid life!

I’m so mad at him, but, but, but…

The guy has suffered his fair share on Earth – I’ll give him that. I’ve also caused him pain (he admits he’s caused me much more)! Why would I want him to be unhappy? When you really love someone, you want them to be well.

Mixed feelings. I’ve been experiencing relief and freedom, but this feels novel now.

OK…

Exhale…

This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to do this forgiveness thing my mother taught me — “I don’t tell you until seven times, but, until seventy times seven” (Jesus) — For my own sake, not for his.

 

Cannot help but being myself, though, so I offer him some unsolicited advice.

“Hey Ex, I have some things to say now. Hear me out, OK? — He looks doutbful and it feels like a small victory that he’s stuck and has to listen.

“Be the best possible dad you can, focusing on the teens when it’s your turn to take care of them. If your new relationship doesn’t work out…” — at this point he rolls his eyes —  “…your kids will still be there for you if you don’t neglect them now. You don’t want to become like your father……

“Hey, and don’t you abandon your faith! Keep talking to God. Your mother taught you that and it has always been so important to you. Even though it may feel contradictory to what you’re doing right now, and church people — especially — will most likely judge your actions… — (both of us grew up in ministers’ families).

“Finally, try to do things right in the relationship this time, will you please?” — I poke him — “Try to make her happy, OK? If it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll know you did all you could? The rest will depend on her,” I finalize it.

I mean all I’ve said, yet I know there’s a hidden complaint in my last advice…

 

He asks me if we can change the upcoming dates of childcare so he can travel to the Bahamas with Ms. Newbie this week.

Right…

That explains why he wanted to talk. Haha!

“Yeah, let’s help each other,” — whatever — “But remember this later on, when it’s my turn to travel!” — I’m hoping there will be a plane crash…

…But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the other passengers. 🤣😅🤣

 

He thanks me, wishes me well and we hug good-bye. Lightly.

Do I love him or hate him?? It feels like I don’t know him anymore. As if I’m hugging a total stranger: 22 years have amounted to this eerie moment.

Surreal.

Doesn’t feel normal at all – so much to process.

Later.

Not now.

I’ll do that later.

 

That night I’m feeling a little annoyed. My ego is hurt and I have a serious change of heart: if Mr. Ex can fly to paradise and act like a teenager in love, I also get to have some fun and try out a few new things.

Staying single for a year? Ha! Ridiculous!

So, tim……….…ber with that plan.

No, Tin…der, here I come. 😊

© 2017 rf

 

 

Obs. Day 13 since moving out. New beginnings!

 

 

Chapter 2 – The Broken-Up Together Xmas

This blog is a book. Maybe better read from the beginning? 🙂

 

Tuesday, 29 December 2015.

 

Day 9

 

Dear Diary,

How are you doing?

I am fine.

Really.

You doubt me?

Well, you know women – and you know me. If a fair amount of mood swings are normal within my cycle, just imagine now, under the present circumstances! Seriously. 🙁

It’s been a week since I moved out from Mr. Ex’s home.

Our last home together. Our last whole-family home.

Wholeness.

Were we whole together with so much abyss between us?

I am whole alone?

Yes, I am and will decisively remain so!

 

As for the latest news:

Remember how I told you Mr. Ex and I decided to celebrate our first Christmas party together to make it easier on Kristiina and Joey, our teens?

Christmas Eve went fine, thank God.

Phew.

Our traditional Finnish Xmas food was so delicious: smoked salmon; oven-baked ham encircled by prunes (served cold); gravy; rutabaga casserole; and creamy beetroot salad. Chocolates and lots of ice cream for dessert. Yummy!

We were all in an amicable mood and able to behave in a civil manner, giving each other nice gifts and friendly smiles, including Mr. Ex (!), who gave me a forty-euro H&M gift card, to my surprise.

I’m not fully buying it… Hmmm. Too good to be true?? Anyways… I feel that it’s better to keep the peace – and everybody wins.

Darling Lisa joined us from central Finland with her kids (the teens’ third degree cousins), as well as Ida, a kind of extra granny they have got. Varamummo, in Finnish.

Ah, how could I forget Joey’s illustrious puppy Jack Black, an adorable Jack Chi who loves to snuggle up, but is also strong-willed, playful, intelligent and, OMG, soooo cute?

The deal is he’ll live a week a month with me and the rest of the time with Mr. Ex.

“Oh, you want a divorce? OK. You take the dog three weeks a month. You know I won’t want to clean his white fur off my couch every day!”

Mr. Ex and I only live a km from each other, so it’s easy to see him if I ever miss him too much.

The dog, of course!!

As if…!

 

The next day – Xmas morning – the teens and I exchange a few more gifts and Kristiina’s makes me cry – literally – a wrought-iron hook with a heart on top for our new kitchen.

I’m so hooked on hooks, they’re so practical! Kris knows I adore them, and the fact that she really put in some thought into buying something she knew I would love made me very emotional.

Crying and laughing at the same time was so hilarious that she filmed the whole episode. (Maybe I’ll show you the clip someday).

I always remind Joey and his sister that even when we have little money, it’s still important to give a simple gift to the people who matter in our lives – at least if we’re going to spend a special occasion with them.

Birthdays and Christmases simply cannot go unnoticed. Nothing makes me feel more unloved than that… (I’m writing this with pouting lips)! 😏

Actions speak louder than words, after all. Don’t you agree?

It does not have to be anything expensive. For instance, you can think of something the person likes or something that could be useful.

Quality is key, so a small pack of Lindt chocolates, a piece of poetry, a drawing or home-baked cookies can do wonders. I honestly don’t care if the only thing I get is a pair of socks, as long as they are handpicked and, above all, presented with love.

Look into the receiver’s eyes and give them a heart-warming smile and a bear hug – and voilà!

The simple things in life. Ahh…!

They make me happy.

It doesn’t take that much in life…

 

OK, OK… I admit it.

People who know me the best find it super hard to buy me gifts. I have a reputation at home for thanking you for your present, then putting it into my gift supply box to give it on to somebody else in the future. I’ll confess my sins.

Just think about it: it’s ecological. If it’s something I know I won’t like, wear, use or need, why open it?? Everyone should do the same!

If you really want to be sure I’ll be the one to enjoy your gift, get me a box of eggs, a salad, or a pen and paper. A Chili Lindt dark chocolate bar. A car wash, a candle, good coffee, a Levi’s or Diesel jeans. 

Or then a Light Coke. 😋 Ops! I’m trying to stop with my only vice – so maybe not!

Socks. Yes!! Socks… Someday I’ll share my life closely with somebody again (but it will have to be someone as cool as me), and we’ll give each other good socks for every birthday and every Christmas. One pair each.

And sometimes on a normal day too, just to be romantic. ❤️‍😍

And we are going to wear them all.

© 2017 rf

 

 

Obs. Day 9 since moving out. New beginnings indeed!

 

 

Chapter 1 – Separated Anna

This blog is a book. Maybe better read from the beginning? The Prologue and Intro. 🙂

 

Sunday, 27 December 2015.

 

Day 7

 

Separated Anna has started to settle down in her new flat. It’s been three days since Xmas Eve and the teens have been with her since then. She’s feeling merry that they are spending time at their new place together.

She loves Kristiina and Joseph so much. Forever and for always!

“I love you guys too much… and not nearly enough!❤️‍” — is what she sometimes texts them.

Gosh, to heaven and back, to hell and back, and everywhere in between. Natural motherly love. Plain and simple.

 

Talking of feelings…

For the time being, all her tears have dried up. For now, she’s just focusing on making sound decisions: Keep your cool, Anna! Stay strong, try to find joy, be light, resilient and matter of fact.

Nonchalant.

Fight the low moods with sports and a healthy foods, Annita! Spend time with your teens, relatives and friends. Enjoy freedom!

OK, OK… If needed, cry a little. But not too often, please! — she rolls her eyes, annoyed — If Mr. Ex doesn’t want to be with me anymore, well, too bad for him. His loss – stupid man!

What do I care?

Anna has been through a thousand emotions in the last few months. Torrential tears, inexplicable laughter, numbness, rage, relief, doubt, heart-wrenching self-doubt. Just to name a few of the feelings that welled up from the most unbeknownst depths within.

Take the night she moved out of her home, for instance. It felt so horrible that she can’t bear dwelling on it. She won’t even allow me, the narrator, to further elaborate on that yet.

Unconsciously, Anna has postponed her final tears for the lost marriage to later on.

You actually can – willingly – push your grief into the unkonwn future. But warning! It will catch you there when you least expect it.

Anna’s storms are slowly brewing, the necessary mourning is still to come. Thunder and lightning – believe me! The narrator is here in 2017, so I already know everything that’s going to happen back in 2016.

This book will seek to relate to you the story of Anna’s attempts at self-reconstruction more or less in chronological order (perhaps with a few flash forwards and -backs).

Keep calm 👑 and Anna’s 2016 will be uploaded with novelty.

Sweet Lord Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the Xmas donkey! 2016 will turn out to be a fun-filled year — sweet and full of passion — like she can’t imagine just yet.

© 2017 rf

 

 

Obs. Day 7 since moving out. New beginnings!

 

Introduction – Ready for a New Start?

Enjoy! This is where the story begins.

 

 Wednesday, 23 December 2015.

 

Day 3

 

It’s a school holiday morning just before Christmas in wintry, dark, freezing Finland, and the wind is blowing hard and relentless in Helsinki. Anna is alone – her new home finally ready, after a couple of months of shopping for furniture and household gadgets.

The new stuff is from Ikea, K-rauta, Kodin Ykkönen, Verkkokauppa and Masku, and the handpicked second-hand objects are from antique shops, as well as tori.fi. As she looks around, Anna feels satisfied with the Kenwood kitchen appliances and the PAX wardrobe with its shiny white doors.

The moving process has taken lots of the usual pragmatic creativity and focus, hard work, screws and nails, boxes, closet space, hooks, and above all the help of two-three friends. How would she have managed without them?

Gratefully, she realizes that now that everything has fallen into place, she’s feeling happy – strangely enough…

You see, Anna has just moved out of her ex-husband’s home, six days after their twentieth anniversary. Sure, they’d spent the last two years discussing a possible divorce, so it hadn’t come as a total shock, really. (The first time they threw the idea around had been eight years earlier).

All the investment of time, affection, energy, forgiveness and patience. So much emotional stress! So many attempts… Eurgh.

Then, when he’d recently made up his mind to go through with the divorce, she hadn’t been able to avoid an exhausting ten days of sudden tears in the shower, the car drive to work, and nooooo…!! Even in the middle of a lesson once, in front of her ninth graders, when she’d burst out crying while explaining the difference between the past simple and the present perfect.

More like a complicated past and an annoyingly imperfect present!

What a waste of life!

 

The first night all alone at her new place had felt like purgatory agony and shame, until the next morning, when her childhood friend Tom, a Brazilian living in America since he was ten, called to check up on her. An experienced divorcé, he had lots of empathy and a few good tips to offer. Grateful for the support, they repeated the phone calls for a few months into 2016.

 

Anyhow… today is today. And today she is feeling cheerful.

She is listening to a YouTube link Tom has sent her. It’s a lecture on love, sex and dating by Andy Stanley, who provokes the listener with the challenge “Are you the person the person you’re looking for is looking for?”

Andy believes that after a breakup, people should take a year off dating and spend it on becoming a better character instead. That way, one will later be able to both expect and welcome into their life a better partner.

Hmmm, wow, brilliant, Anna thinks to herself, I’m gonna try and do just that!

 

Her teens Kristiina and Joey are spending the first separation days with their dad, before they come to stay for a week on Christmas Eve. How must they be feeling???

Joey had wanted to move in with Anna from night one, but she simply couldn’t let him. No way!

Had to go through the dark inferno of the first nights alone, all by myself. You don’t want your kids to see that…! 😭😭😭

Mr. Ex helped her with the move, financially and otherwise. Besides agreeing with all of her suggestions – demands! For example, that the teens live every other week with each parent, so both will keep a close bond and take their share of the responsibility.

Who wouldn’t want that privilege, right?

They are actually going to have their first Christmas party as a broken-up couple together 💔, hoping to make the new beginning a little less tough on the teens.

Don’t you see?

Although the day has come when there are no options left but to face the music, dealing with the marriage-turned-bad with brutal honesty, Anna believes it’s vital to think of the kids and try to make the whole mess as easy as humanly possible for them.

She’s trying her best!

 

Aye, aye! I remember feeling I was about to become a bitter wife.

Like, you know those fifty-year-old women you see working behind the cash register sometimes? The ones with thin, stiff lips who look angrily at you, the customer, and you have no idea why? They just look so sour.

Whenever Anna sees them, she thinks of two things.

OMG, I’m NOT going to become one of them – they exude so much anger!

And when she’s feeling more merciful, perhaps something like, Who has hurt them? Their man?? Cancer?

Poor things.

 

But…

Big sigh.

What now?? What’s to become of me now? Hmmm…

 

I know. I know!!

 

Life has given me tons of lemons, but just you wait, Mr. Ex!

Wait and see how much lemonade I’m about to make! I’ll let you have a taste of it first. Maybe you’ll miss me?

Or drown in it for all I care…

 

Anna rides that stupid emotional roller coaster.

No… That’s bitter. – and bitter can’t be the taste she’s after now.

No, no.

No!

Long, long sigh.

 

OK. Then what?

Think, Anna, think.

No. Feel it in your gut!

She looks deep into her soul where a very nice vision pops up.

 

Instead of resentment………… My first ingredient:

Lots of sugar for me… 😊 and for my future Mr. Boyfriend. 😊 — Anna smiles now, more satisfied.

I may be vulnerable, but I am strong!

I feel fearful, oh damn, so very afraid!

(Relieved, too!)

Angry, yes.

Sad, definitely.

But bitter?!

I’m actually sweet. A very loving person! — she protests — Humpf.

If you really, really know me and you care to see… you can’t help but feel it.

 

(Hmmmm… I don’t think Mr. Ex agrees… Haha! Well, fuck it, who cares?)

 

Anna’s been working hard on seeing her cup half full – at least during the long days she’s been super busy organizing her new place, as she adores hard work and easily dives into new projects.

Now, sitting down on the brand new couch, she’s thinking that she’s had enough negativity, enough tears. She’s just had enough. She desires a new, hopeful beginning. Anna does not want to end up alone and miserable.

Is that even realistic??

Yes, she must be brave. She needs to go to work, earn a living, pay her bills. The teens need her! She just has to survive this hurricane with dignity and joy – and not too many tears.

Yes, that’s it.

So………………

It is thus that in that spirit of stubborness, she makes up her mind. Sisu!

You know what? I’ve succeded in being a positive person even in the midst of life’s many problems. I’m not going to go bad now!

I don’t want to.

A bitter 39-year-old divorced woman?

Hell, nooo!

After all, if life gives you lemons… whatever! Make lemonade. Yay!

Healthy lemonade, with just the right amount of sweetness.

© 2017 rf

 

 

Obs. Day 3 since moving out of her ex-husband’s home. New beginnings!
.

Prologue – Trump Him, Dump Him?

This is a book. Its prologue, the beginning. 🙂

 

Saturday, 28 January 2017.

 

Day 405

I’m a guest at Jasmine’s place for the celebration of the Chinese New Year – the Year of the Rooster. “Also known as the Year of the Cock,” she comments, making us, the mixed crowd that is mingling in her living room, giggle mischievously.

Jasmine (32), is a Chinese expatriate with a PhD, and I find her quite cute, funny and smart.

Single, she tells me she’s never even had a boyfriend, but is currently looking for her husband-to-be/one-true-love, all in one package.

While he doesn’t come her way, she occupies her life with hard work, loads of international friends, dance courses and culinary explorations.

I, on the other hand, have already enjoyed the bliss and all the sorrows of a longish-lived marriage to my teenage sweetheart. From the age of seventeen, when we started dating, until the Year of the Monkey, when I turned 39 and we cut our monkey business short.

Twenty-two years with the same man. Gosh! Is it selfish of me to want more while some of my friends haven’t had it at all, yet? 

Truth be told, I’m feeling afraid. Disturbingly petrified at the thought of ending up alone.

And worse.

I’ve been feeling so lonely.

 

Helping myself at the buffet table, what a relief to bump into Tony, a handsome friend I’ve made in Kamppi through the MeetUp app, just as I have Jasmine.

“Long time no see, Tony…!”

“Oh, hi Anna! How are you doing?” he responds in his cool, typical Finnish manner.

We’re glad to have found an acquaintance to keep company at the party. Sitting side by side, we small-talk. Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah.

“Oh, Anna, btw, my knee is much better now, so I’m going back to the dating game,” Tony updates me.

More about that knee in a future chapter. As well as my thoughts on Jasmine not having had a bf yet at her age! What are these two thinking??

“How have your dates been, Annita?”

“Hmm, that’s good!” I comment. “I’m glad for your, uh, knee…” — then answering his question — “Oh, me? Ah, you know me and all my dating ventures… The last one was the worst ever! Yuk!”

“Really, how so?”

I’ve been very, very sad lately, but not feeling like ruining the evening, I evoke a light, superficial mood to converse in.

“OK, this guy online has some good profile photos. Climbing, walking on a wire… So I figure, Hmm. He sure is the confident type! And not bad looking, either.”

I’m recollecting the details. A German living in England, he claims he’s looking for people to go jogging with…

“His third pic is priceless…” — storytelling fires me up — “He’s naked. In the snow! Running in a competition with nothing but a small red Xmas gift box tied with a golden bow around his private parts and a Santa hat on his head.”

Sports? That’s innocent enough, right?

“Haha!” — we laugh at the image — “Impulsively, I send him a message.”

Hi. Happy 2017, runner!

And if you ever visit Helsinki, maybe we could go jogging together?

Hey Anna, Happy New Year! I’m here in Helsinki on business.

 

An active online dater himself, Tony’s into my story now. In fact, every time our group of friends meets, the subject will resurface as surely as the Finnish morning sun.

“Cool, Annita. Jogging on a date could potentially turn out to be an interesting first?”

“Exactly!” — pleased he gets my point — “However… I’m just being friendly with the guy…”

Alas, I know my heart’s simply not ready to meet anyone new. What’s going on with Christian?? I miss him like hell. I feel devastated, lost and alone. Yet, I can’t tell Tony that. Dignity at all costs! Just hide it, Anna.

Like most Latin Americans, I’m waving with my hands now, blabbing excitedly — “OK, listen to this, Friday evening comes and unfortunately, it’s way too easy to spot my date: it’s freezing outside, yet the guy is wearing…”  — drum rolls —  “…Shorts, a bright orange running jacket, and best of all, a flashlight on his forehead!”

“Huh? For a date?!” Tony and I are rolling in the aisles.

“So there I am, looking at my date and feeling, Oh no! Here we go again. Another bad first impression for my nice collection. Seriously, a flashlight guy?!”  

“Skit!!” — I swear in Swedish — “Haha. But, in the spirit of not judging a child by its dirty face and runny nose, let me give this champ a chance…

“Then, the guy opens his mouth and his English sounds so natively American. Bollocks!”

“But Anna, you speak American English!”

“Yeah, but I love men who speak British English!” — Classy, sexy, dreamy — “And I’m expecting a cute German accent! But OK, OK, whatever. Off we go.

“We’re jogging, and from the start I’m fighting to keep up with the long-legged marathon runner, so breathing hard, I go, ‘Please-could-you-do-most-of-the-talking-as-I-can’t-run-this-fast-and-chat-at-the-same-time-puff-puff?’”

“And then?” Tony wants to cross the finishing line of my account.

“Yes, he agrees to do all the talking.”

“Cool!”

“No!! Unfortunately! ‘Cause the only topic my date talks about is Donald Trump. Can you believe it? Run, trump, trump, jog, trump, trump, stomp, trump, trump, trump, trump.

“He doesn’t ask me one single question about my life. He shares nothing about his. All I get is 4k of frumpy trumping!” — I protest.

Tony laughs hard.

“And since I’m struggling to match his pace, panting like a pug, I can’t really try to change the subject — mentally reprimanding myself for not being in the habit of training harder.

“What a relief to be approaching the end of the track. Phew, we’re finally there. And I’m exhausted and bored.”

“So you dump him and drag yourself back home??” — Tony is curious.

“Not quite yet. The moment we stop running, the American leans down and quickly steals a kiss, to my astonishment. ‘Now let’s go up to my hotel room, shall we?’ he says confidently.”

“Really? I envy the guy’s flirting skills!” — Tony seems to be enjoying the story— “He thought Trump talk would have turned you on?! Hahaha. What a loser. Haha…”

“Hey, cut him some slack, will you? Our jogging took place on Trump’s inauguration day, after all.” — We’re nodding empathically now (and I hate calling anyone a loser!)…

“Oh, that explains it. But, Anna, you’re so naive! The guy has a pic of his gift-wrapped cock and you can’t guess what his gift to you is meant to be?”

“No!! Forgive me!😁”

I laugh to refrain from crying.

“Btw, was he for or against Trump?”

“He was against him,” I answer, noticing a girl sitting close by staring at me with a very amused expression.

“Sorry, but I can’t help but eavesdrop on your story. It is hilarious!” she says.

We introduce ourselves and feeling a little self-conscious, I add, “Nah. Most of my dates have been nice. Some people out there are quite OK………

Sigh…

“I did meet my boyfriend on Tinder last year after all, remember, Tony?” — not able or willing to refer to him as my ex yet.

No, no, no!

“What about you, Niina? Are you single and on the lookout?”

“Yeah, do you also go online dating?” Tony takes part in my inquiry.

“Yes. Yeah.” — Niina says dismissively — “But, do tell me, how did you react when the guy kissed you and invited you up to his room after the political foreplay?”

“I told him to go………… trump himself, of course!” — not exactly in those words.

As many of my other friends have before, Tony pushes an idea, “Hey, Anna, you have to write a book about all your funny online dates. A separate chapter for every one! You’ve just gotta.”

“Yes!” — Niina encourages me, too — “And hey, if you do, let me know. I’d want to read that!”

“No, seriously,” they keep at it, “That would the perfect project for your Year of the Cock…”

Haha. Cocky stories?

 

So, OK… here am I.

Let’s do this!

Will my dear reader kindly help me rewind this story to Xmas of 2015, when this specific tale begins?

A little over a year ago… A time for sorrowful endings… and mercifully, also for hopeful new beginnings.

Please keep your fingers crossed, and without any further ado, permit to introduce you to the real Anna. Not this silly, temporarily poker-faced lost case, but the real me. And maybe, just maybe you’ll see.

© 2017 rf

Obs. Day 405 since moving out.