Love is Not Bullshit

31 I Change

Julian's email wasn't the cherry on top of my cake, it was more like the base of my cake, the plain, hard first layer that holds up the rest. I don't know if it was exactly what I needed, hadn't he responded I would have still gone on my with my same life but it gave me a boost. It reminded me that I was still me and that change was only natural; if it were to happen I wasn't to shy away from it but embrace it. 

I read his words slowly, trying to imagine when he'd written them - was it during the night when the rest of his house was quiet? Or did he walk to one of the cute cafés we used to go to on Friday afternoons and sat somewhere to type out his message? Or maybe he wrote it during one of his breaks when the café he worked at was less busy and he had a moment to step outside. 

I liked picturing him typing on his phone, in my head he always had the same soft hair, the same clothes I remembered him wearing. But I knew from his Instagram profile that he'd gotten a haircut and probably new clothes I'd never seen. I wondered what else about him had changed. I wanted to ask about his therapist, what she was like, what kind of things she asked, what they talked about during their sessions. I didn't though, I held back from asking the personal questions, I'd save those for later. We'd only just started talking and I didn't want to risk estranging him. 

I did ask him different things though, I mostly went to him with my worries and my fears. He'd always been there to listen to me and although I loved my new friends they didn't know me yet like he did and it would take time to get to the same level of confidence and understanding. I wrote to him a lot about Olivia and Charlie and Sophie, snippets of reflections, things they said, arguments they had where I mostly remained on the sidelines. 

I read his replies during lectures or in the library or on my way home. I read them whenever, I read them as soon as they arrive. I devour them like my favourite snack. Then when I go home I re-read them and formulate a reply, usually something that tries to be funny (I'm not sure if I try too hard to be funny) while continuing with the somewhat serious conversations we're having. I like how seriously he takes my rants, how he writes about my friends here as if he knew them personally and could delineate a profile for them based on the snippets and bits I've given to him.

One day I got really worried that these new friends were too intellectual, too studious for me. 

Before coming to university I barely read the news and now I found myself following newspapers and activists on social media in an effort to catch up. Eva thought that this was good, these new friendships were challenging me to learn new things, to become more involved in the world around me. And while I realised this too, I was worried that I'd chosen the wrong people to be my friends, what did I have in common with these smart, book-loving people that spoke eloquently and confidently. 

I wrote this to Julian, in a long, confusing email. I asked him whether he thought this was just a polished exterior university students wore and then as relationships evolved we would also talk about more trivial matters. 

What does it mean to get to know someone's true/real self anyways? Do you show this self to everyone or is it a privilege only a few lucky ones have? 

I think these questions mostly troubled me because I was afraid that with these new friends I wasn't being my true self. I mean, what was my true self anyway? Maybe we have as many selves as the people we know, but then how do you differentiate between the self you truly are and the selves that are just imitations? 

I don't like the idea of having many different sides that we choose to exhibit based on the people we are with. Of course I understand that I am a slightly different person depending on the people I'm interacting with - family, university professors, friends... But I can't stand to think that these would be big differences, I want people to be able to take a marker and draw a shape and say: this is Nora, this is the person I know, this is what she has proven to be over and over.