Rainbow Child

Don’t have them, don’t understand the concept. I’ve spent this weekend with his little sister and it was great. We went out drinking, eating, we ended up at a klezmer music concert (great music, btw!) and, all in all, we had a great time together, just as it happened with his twin sister in Paris.

But the more I think about this brother-sister relationship, the more I don’t understand it. I know it’s some sort of parent-child thing, only cooler, but it still puzzles me. I am an only child and I was raised like one: I got to eat the whole bar of chocolate, I got to play with all the toys, I was grounded for every stupid thing I did. I have no idea what it means to share a room with someone, to take someone’s side out of brotherly care etc. I don’t know what it means to worry about someone who is travelling by plane and I have no idea how it feels to spend time with your siblings after months of being apart.

Yes, I have a family and, yes, I care about *almost* all of its members but except for my parents I don’t feel like there is any special bond connecting me to them. I have learned to accept them the way they are but I still judge them from time to time (not out loud, though) and we see each other for Christmas, Easter and a couple of times during the summer holiday. No big love between us, no real bonds.

I don’t regret not having siblings – hell, I’m glad I’m alone, spoiled and egotistic but sometimes I would like to know how it feels to care for someone not because you are great friends or because they are your parents but because you’ve shared so many things together, so many memories, because they were grounded because of you or because they wanted to save you, because you were fighting over the same bar of chocolate.

Siblings – strange creatures

A casual talk with Martha´s mum:

i: “Argh, I can´t believe he doesn´t know how to do that! He´s a man, he should know how to do such practical things! If not, why should you have a man around the house?”
Mm: “Just to have babies.”
i: “And if you don´t want to have babies?”
Mm: “Well…”

Tomorrow we’re leaving for Athens. See you in a week!

We moved in together. It officially happened when I came back to Bucharest but he still hasn’t brought over his furniture cause he doesn’t have where to put it yet. We’re working on that. Unofficially, we’ve been living together since day one. I was still pissed because my relatives were killing me with their stupid questions about me being single when he moved in. It wasn’t subtle at all: I almost kicked him in the groin when I saw his toothbrush in my bathroom. He was allowed to sleep over but he wasn’t allowed to leave things behind. At least for the first two weeks he wasn’t. Then he simply moved in.

I thought Mum would have something to say about this but it seems that she has stronger opinions when it comes to tattoos than me living with a guy I’ve just started dating After visiting my parents twice they are now convinced that he’s more than a nice guy (although Mum thinks he’s a bit… work-shy) and that I’m on good hands. Or at least that’s the part of the story they should know.

Truth is that he is a nice guy. He’s even more nice than I deserve (it’s always been like that!) but he has his share of flaws. It’s always ugly and messy when we fight but then which fights aren’t like that? I usually shout and feel like throwing things at him and he is trying to calm me down and then he comes up with all these silly excuses for being so stupid. Of course I’m never wrong!

And officially we’ve been together for half a year now. Oh, I know it’s not much at all but it’s still something for me. Living together for six months with someone is really something. Of course we spent the “anniversary” apart because we were having one of our fights! He went out for some beers with his friend, I went out for a lemonade with one of my friends. We’re such a modern couple

Why are we still together? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s such a nice guy. Or maybe because we can stand each other (which is a HUGE achievement for me). Whatever the reason is, I have to admit it’s cool to have someone to share stuff with. And go places with. And boss around. And cook for. And read with. And… and… and…

I have no idea why I’ve stopped baking bread. I guess that at one point I was doing it too often and it got boring. Today, after 3 months of horrible bought bread, I decided it was time to bake again.

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