Altogether unusual

The end of love

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The jumping on and off the planes continued for other two months. Europe became my own private rink. Sliding here and sliding there, always packing my ass to go somewhere. On the bright side, I got to see a lot of beautiful places and got quite known in my field. On the down side, I had a weight with me always. I had tried to get rid of that stupid book, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to read it ether, so I just packed it with me whenever I went. But the power of it is omnious. As much as I have managed to keep thoughts of Jonathan away so far, this book made me crazy. Remember how I said he smelled like books? Every time I get a sniff of that book, I think of him. And it is worse than smelling any other book because this is his. What Eve had said scared me out of my mind. The way she put it, I would go back searching for him if I were to read the book. The big problem is I don't want to go back. As much as I loved him, it doesn't seem like a healthy love to me. I didn't like who I was when I was with him. I like me now. Even if I know I cannot keep this up forever, I cannot have a relationship now either.

Having done what he did helped me stay away from him. Finding an explanation... well it would throw me in his arms again. I cannot be that person anymore, and I am afraid I couldn't be any other way with him. I feel so weak. Why can't I hold my own with this guy? It's been more than a year since I last saw him. And still, every time I think about our time together, I feel faint.

I always forgave, I put everything behind. Fighting with someone was never my thing. And the time I got with him made any quarrel impossible. Come to think of it, it wasn't his entire fault we ended up like this. I wasn't able to fight for my own, and I lost. He couldn't see me, the real me, and he lost.

However, every time I start to think that I am alone, I remember I have my art, my passion. Yes, the monsters are chasing, yes I am always on the run and practically have no friends, but I am ok. And as time passes by, I am happier with this situation. Maybe not happy. I don't like this word, but I definitely feel joy much more than sorrow. And every day is easier. I remember him, and I miss him, but I am better without. Eventually he will be gone from inside me. I am my own person. I don't need him to define me.

During this long time, here and there, I finally got to have myself tattooed again. I have wanted this for a long time, but I needed to find the right person to do it. I found him, Kostas, in Hungary. I liked his technique when we first worked together. When he told me how he acquired it, I made my decision. One evening he invited me to have a beer in a local pub in Pesta. He told me then how he had been working and learning from several tribes the ancient art of tattooing.

"You know, Clarisse, I am afraid that the tattoo art becomes more and more superfluous" He told me after he took a sip of his beer.

"What do you mean exactly?"

"I'm just thinking about how everybody who wants to be cool has a tattoo today..."

"...creating a large market for the laser removal centres everywhere." I replied laughing.

"Yeah, that too. I always liked to think a tattoo is forever. And with the risk of losing clients, I stress the importance of a good tattoo, of a good place to do it, things like that. For the so-called primitive cultures the tattoo has a deep symbolism: it connects them with God, it tells the story of a family long line, of a high position in the tribe, it shows the courageous acts in battle. It is never a mark of fashion, but an important thing imbedded in their skin, for people to know. Like a story within a story. "