soulmates

I didn't believe in soulmates for a very very long time. I didn't believe in the soulmate definition Disney shows and Fantasy Romance books portrayed. I didn't believe that there's someone you're just meant to be with, that there's someone on this earth made just for you, that will always love you unconditionlly no matter what. Still don't believe in that soulmate definition.
What I do believe in: there'll be people out there who understand you without you having to say a word. There's no explanation needed for anything. There won't be any judging, there might be a "I don't agree with what you did or think or want.", but there'll still be a "I'll support you if you think what you're doing is best for you, even if I don't agree with it." A soulmate isn't a person that was specifically made for you, who completes you or perfectly matches your jagged pieces. A soulmate is the person that makes you feel comfortable telling them every little detail they definitely wouldn't need to know, who comforts you when you're at your lowest and doesn't allow you to crawl into that pitch black hole of sadness, who lifts you even higher when you thought you couldn't reach more, who can tell you "I envy you for what you've accomplished. And I'm so goddamn proud of you." and you know what they mean. You feel what they mean. A soulmate is someone you don't even have to look at to know how they'd respond to that thought or how they'd answer that question, but you want to anyways.

My soulmate approached me one afternoon in the bus, asking whether that had been me in the library. I said yes, and from then on, things only got better. We'd fall asleep taking about the universe and how weird boobs are, her fingers in my hair and smiles on our faces. We can't finish a movie because we both love talking and every sentence said spirals into a conversation about anything and everything and we stop the film because we don't want to miss a scene but at the end we still don't know what it was about and I feel like I've learnt a whole new universe of things. My all-time-favourite picture of me was taken by her in my garden, my favourite conversations were between us two in the bus, not even half finished streams of conciousness when she had to get off. We always say we should keep a list of topics we want to talk about but haven't found the time to yet because the universe is full of things and questions and riddles and we want to solve them all. We wanted to solve the Da Vinci mystery when we were twelve, we wanted to travel the world together when we were thirteen, we wanted to go on every adventure we could possibly have. I wouldn't want anybody else by my side at my lowest, neither at my highest. I never had to explain myself to her. She just understands, she gets me with just a single glance, a single half-smile across the room. We can have conversations simply by excanging one look. There's never been awkward silence between us. We can sit in silence for hours but we don't for the most part because there's just so much to say, so much to tell.

To me, she always seemed like the better version of myself; our brains seem to work so much alike it's almost scary, and still, she amazes me with every word, every thought, every action. We think so similarly about things and still she opens my horizon with every conversation, every sentence even. She's so much stronger and braver and better than I am and I adore her. I love her so much I think it'd tear me apart sometimes. I've never had that kind of love for anybody else. I strongly believe that love is, for the most part, a choice and not an emotion, but she's never given me a choice. I never had the chance not to love her. I have a lot of difficulty describing what I feel for her because like I said, I've never had that kind of love before. She's special. She makes me feel so much and so strongly and deeply about so many things.

In the now five years I've known her I've learnt so much about myself due to her. I've learnt so much about loving people conditionally and unconditionally and about how to find a healthy balance between those two things, I've learnt how to evaluate whether a relationship or parts of a relationship are toxic or not and how to step back from these things, look at them and change them. I've learnt how to deal with my own and other people's hurt in so much more healthy ways and when I say this girl changed me in a way I could never have imagined, I'm not telling a single lie. No one has ever had me that determined to keep my promises, to tell the truth, to be a good friend and sometimes even a good person. No one has ever made me love them in this way I can't find words for - and I usually find words for everything. I won't stop talking, but the amount of times she made me shut up and listen already are many more than anybody else in my life will be able to.
What to take from this: love isn't always romantic. You can love platonically as much as romantically. The biggest loves I think I'll ever love aren't romantic - they're platonic. Another thing to take from this: soulmates aren't that person made just for you. Pretty sure those don't exist. Soulmates are the people you'd not only trust with your life but also with all of your heart. Soulmates don't have to be a romantic partner.
One more thing: If you find a person that breaks your heart with all the love you have for them, keep them.

about growing up and growing old

I have two big fears: growing up and growing old.

Let me explain: I'm afraid of growing up because I don't want to lose the childlike sense of wonder I've somehow managed to preserve the past 16 years, I don't want to take responsibility for anything or anybody else than myself, I don't want to have less time to do the things I enjoy because I've got to take care of my responsibilities. I am afraid that one day I can't turn on the TV any more to watch my favourite childhood show and enjoy it. I am incredibly afraid that my mind and heart will change and that I'll think of what I'm doing now as childish and stupid, that I won't value the friendships I've made during my childhood as much as I did now because we were just kids, we didn't know what friendship really meant. I am afraid I will grow out of these friendships, curse myself for spending so much money and time on train journeys to people, grow out of going to the supermarket in our free period and trying to find the most stupid thing they'd sell and laughing way too hard about one of us buying a five litre bottle of water and drinking it within the next three hours, of 11pm calls about TV-shows, of running through our school and laughing about everything and nothing. I am afraid that one day, these memories won't matter to me any more.

And here's why I'm afraid of growing old: every time I get out of my bed and hear my spine crack, I can't help but think about a time it will do so every third morning, then every other morning, then every morning and then one day I won't be able to get out of my bed on my own. I am afraid that my body will fail me, that my fingers will forget how to write, to braid hair, to fold paper dragons. I am afraid that one day I won't be able to remember how the dress looked my mother wore to her wedding, or how much bigger my father's hands were compared to mine, that I won't be able to recall my sister's eye colour, the way my best friend smiled, what my grandma's voice sounded like, that I'll forget the name of the girl I'd have given my life for – I am so afraid that not only my body, but my mind will fail me. My biggest nightmare is needing someone to take care of me, to remind me of my sisters name, my address, the year it is, who I am.
Time passing scares me so much. One day, I'll forget what the name of the boy in my drama club was, I'll forget what I wore the day that the person I liked hugged me weirdly, I'll forget the names of the sisters of the girl in my English class, how the teacher looked we always ranted about. One day, I won't be the same person I am now, and that frightens me more than anything.

 

((These photos were taken at the Clock Museum in Putbus, Rügen. If you're ever on the island, I'd definitely recommend going there! It's pure magic, and the lady who owns it is great and super lovely!!))

names and stories

I share my name with grand women. I share my name with great women, with brave women, with women who didn't give up to fight to get what they deserve. I share my name with rulers, with wise and kind women, with women who, somewhere on this planet, unrecognized, do things to make this earth a better place, without caring whether they will ever be thanked for it or not. I share my name with queens, writers, poets, actresses, politicians, artists, fighters - I share my name with women who did great things and who will do great things.

I recently realized that what I want is indeed the world - and I won't settle for less. I want the world, I want to see everything, know everything, love everything and I won't rest before I've achieved all of that. I want to read and travel and take photos and enjoy the beauty of this world. I want to help people, inspire them, change them. I want to be able to be a role model, I want to be strong and smart and kind. I want to make lives better, I want to gift love and be loved.

I share my name with five empresses, with forty-one queens, with six saints - I am more than just a little girl. I am a fighter, I am a warrior, and I will take what I deserve. This is why I file my nails sharp. This is why I paint them the colour of my enemy's blood I never got the chance to get my hands dirty on; because "girls are too fragile to fight". Because so many girls, real or not, didn't get their adventure, didn't get their Wonderland, their Neverland, their memories and fairies and thieves and pirates and stars. Neither did I.

(also: I am now officially on Bloglovin! Follow my blog with Bloglovin )

cathedrals

I'm not religious, wasn't raised that way, never believed in a god and probably never will. I sometimes envy the people that are capable of believing with all their heart. I'm pretty sure I've read somewhere religious people are happier than non-believers. I have a thing about churches; the atmosphere, the quiet inside of them calms me down no matter how excited or giddy or upset I was beforehand. I don't know whether it's the architecture, the stained glass windows, the smell of cold, old stone and wooden benches or how everyone else is behaving in a church that makes me feel the way I do. Maybe it's a bit of all of these things.

I have a thing about saints, too. Well, about one saint. I'm madly in love with Jeanne d'Arc. That might be because I carry her name, too - well, at least the German version. I remember when I was in first or second grade we had a box of little things in our classroom and when it was someone's birthday, that kid was allowed to pick a thing from that box. There was a lot of stuff in there, small books, boxes of coloured pencils, spinning tops, little toy cars and probably heaps of things I can't remember. One of the books was a square little paperback with a pretty cover called "Johanna von Orléans" - Jeanne d'Arc. Tiny me saw that book the first time it was someone's birthday and wanted to read it. I wanted to know the story of the girl in the armour, I wanted to know why she was kneeling on the floor with a sword in her hand, I wanted to know why the back of the book showed her tied to a pole, flames leaking from the pile of wood beneath her. I was intrigued by that book, by that girl that had my name. 

Now, here's the catch: my birtday is at the very end of the school year. Every time the box was taken out of the drawer I hoped that the kid who's birtday it was wouldn't choose that book. Every time they choose something else my hope grew. At the end of the school year the box was almost empty, and when it finally finally was my turn I didn't have to contemplate at all. I knew what I wanted. I'm not too sure now that so many years have passed but I think I've read it within a few days. I cried when Jeanne d'Arc was sentenced to death and I made place in my tiny heart for the girl who gave everything for what she believed in. In eigth grade we had to choose a région of France for a presentation we had to do in French class. I chose Centre-Val de Loire - capital of that région is Orléans.

When we went to France last October, we stopped in Reims to see the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Reims. We had been in the bus for at least 12 hours at that point, all of us tired and grumpy. The second I stepped into Notre-Dame de Reims, my mind was still. The windows at the other side of the nave were beautiful and while I tried getting a good picture of them I got closer and closer to them. Right beneath the window was a statue of Jeanne d'Arc. One of the heros of my childhood. The girl who fought. In my mind, I started a conversation with her. I told her about how she inspired me, about how she fascinated me ever since I was a tiny six- or seven-year-old. I stood there long enough for the others to catch up and then a bit.

We visited Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris too. Again, I was in awe - the stained glass windows, the atmosphere, the weight of history on every stone, every arch ... we wandered around, looked at the statues, at the ornaments, at a kind of beauty that was older than we could imagine. When we got to Jeanne d'Arc, I couldn't go another step. In my head, I thanked her for everything she'd meant to me. I lit a candle for her and stood infront of the statue long enough to get parted from the group. I was lost for a few minutes but eventually found the others again. In my thoughts, I was still talking to Jeanne.