The last few days have been surreal. Alas (btw, that's one of my favourite words), it was not surreal in a good way. What I witnessed last week was something I never thought I would see. I'm exhausted and very, very sad, but still content with the situation now, compared to how it was just a few days ago, when it was completely black. I think I've put my faith in the right persons. And we didn't have any choices, really. I love my family, all of you are most important to me.
The passage of text above is obscure for everyone not involved, and shall remain so. And for once, it's for completely understandable reasons. You could argue, why say something at all when you can't tell the whole story, and this is one of the main problem with this kind of diary. I still think I'd like to say something about the way I feel, but I just HAVE to leave out the whole background story. It doesn't fit here.
Anyway, I left Vasa today. My grandfather (on my father's side) took me and Carolina to the train station. I don't know him that well for various reasons and I have a hard time accepting his cold, bourgeouis manners (so unlike my mother, my grandmother and other grandfather, who's dead, AND my father). He's completely absorbed with science. “Well respected man“, indeed, in an almost cartoonish way. I don't have the proper terms to describe him. Anyway, he treats me and my sister differently, not in a big way, but still, it's these subtile things. Like the gentleman he is, he carries her bags, but not mine, he hugs her, not me and he holds the coat for her, but not for me. So on the station, when we said goodbye, and he hugged her, I decided to try and see if his stiff manners allowed for a manly hug. I'm not sure of the answer. It was kind of half-hearted on my part, too.
One of my guilty pleasures when travelling is spending money on food in a way you wouldn't do at home. Six euros for a coffee and a small sandwhich is plausible according to the following philosophy: When you're travelling, you're having a hard time. Don't make it harder by refusing yourself delicious delicacies (or something else you could possibly want). So I'm sitting there alone in my seat, looking at my still quite new and definitely special Docs, controlling the iPod, thinking about the dark events, sipping at the plain but expensive coffee, chewing on the ordinary but expensive sandwhich and I feel that one can truly make things a little less painful.
written by Mattias