Petra The Farewell

 

I read your article "You Are Alone..." after my girlfriend called me saying, "Petra, are you okay? We're worried about you."

Perhaps I teared up like that when I first read the "lifetilt" intro and faced the raw truth. I thought over the weekend and realized that I had indeed achieved what I wanted; I should be satisfied, and I am. So why did I want to extend the program? Because I could cling to you; it was a "bond" between us... a mutual something; you gave, and I gave. According to the rules of the game, always trusting. I felt watched and cared for by you, and that's the best feeling in the world, knowing I am safe. Indeed, you can do this alone too. I know for sure that I will be able to do it alone now and can continue because this lifestyle has become a part of my life. But I am also sure that I couldn't have started it alone. The million questions that arose in me as I truly began to live and move with my body.

I needed you to find out where my true limits were, not the ones I imagined. I think everyone needs someone in the beginning. We often misjudge ourselves, and an outsider sees us better. Maybe I never would have attempted to run 11 km. It felt good. It was one of the most significant experiences during my program. I loved starting with you when we weren't even talking anymore, as we spread out to Heroes' Square, both lost in thought, mentally preparing for the distance ahead. I know I didn't run a Marathon, but it felt like it to me then. I had about 5 minutes before the start to decide if I could overcome my mind and run the whole thing "laughing." Do you know when I decided? When you insisted at home that I bring a pass with me so I could come back. Well, then... I didn't bring a pass; it was decided in 5 minutes that I wouldn't need it, no matter what happened. And back then, I had no idea how long the distance was or what the terrain was like. I knew I could do it...

It was good that you were there, that you paid attention to me, that we didn't have to talk; just a glance was enough. That was a huge experience for me. Or when, around day 14, I felt so bad I thought I was going to die. Remember? When I called you to ask if I could lie down at your place in the afternoon before going home because I was unable to move, I was so weak. You worked, and I just slept, then woke up and went home. I needed to feel safe; even if I didn't constantly bother you, the knowledge that I could count on you if "something went wrong" was very reassuring. And selfishly, towards the middle, I was even glad we started the program because you had become very important to me in the meantime, and I knew you had to be here until it was over. Harsh, isn't it?

And now, don't read more into this than what's real. You know exactly what I mean; I told you on Saturday and before that too. You are important to me because we are very similar, only as a woman, I have an innate and genetically coded stupidity for life and the panic-like, periodically recurring "I am alone and lonely" feeling most characteristic of women. (I wrote this down because if I hadn't, you would have picked out the essence and answered in one sentence.) And you, as a man, with not even minimal empathy, are capable of expressing your opinion more brutally and bluntly than anything else, in the worst possible situation and place (e.g., "what's up, big butt")... and I already hear your words to this: "SOMEONE here can't get over this, I feel." I checked my ascendant: Virgo-Libra. That explains everything.

The point is, when good things come to an end, it’s certainly not easy to process. Every year until I was 10-13, I cried on the last days of the Army camp when I had to go home, even though I knew I would be there again next summer. So why? Because the place doesn't change, but it won't be the same again. I'll be a year older, new faces will come, and new experiences and impulses will reach me. Yet, all of them were super good, but in different ways. And I mourned all of them.

There are moments in life that you wish would never pass... Well, these 70 days were exactly like that. With the sufferings, the tantrums, the struggles and arguments, the fights for photos, the endured reports, the successes... the hundreds of SMS messages asking what to buy instead of almonds, what kind of nuts, and what to do if I only lost 40 dkg, and God knows how many more. With my guilt-free "harassment," because I knew the answer would come within 2 minutes, and I'd be saved. That's probably why I took it badly that you took your hand off me recently. If I think about it, I should have been happy about it, as it's a sign that you trust me, you know I can walk the right path alone. (+ it's a sign that you overcommitted yourself). You know that I always got the best out of myself, performing my best, given my circumstances. I missed you, and I missed our old cooperation; I found this hard to bear recently, which is why I often behaved like a real stupid bitch.

Until Saturday, I refused to acknowledge that the program was ending, that a chapter in my life was closing. Not entirely, of course, as I don't want to change my new lifestyle, but you won't be in it for me to whine and ask questions. Because your mission is over, and as you said on Saturday, you couldn't care less about my emotional outbursts of this kind. You're right, it's none of your business, and especially not after the 10th. I'm sorry for Friday, I just feel the end approaching, and if I could pull it off now, I'd say, "Okay, I'd rather write 30 reports about nothing, with no beginning or end, just so it doesn't pass." Who will scold me or praise me then? I don't know when I became so emotional, but these few months have brought out so many things in me that I had no idea existed. I experience things much more passionately and act more consciously than before... In many cases, I make quick decisions. Well, except when buying clothes, because I can't help but pick out clothes that fit my old figure. 

 ...and of course, I know we don't have to bury things because we don't die, we just transform, but I will miss this connection between us. You're going to be bored by this, but please read it, dammit:

 I had a beautiful red, terribly high-heeled ZARA shoe a few years ago. It wasn't the first; before that, my ankles sprained or my heels blistered in a million crappy shoes. In the aforementioned shoe, I learned how to walk as naturally as possible in a unnaturally high shoe for me. It wasn't easy with it at first either; maybe it blistered my heel 3 times until we got used to each other, but my ankle never sprained, and my foot never hurt in it; it supported me perfectly, as if written in a textbook. That has been the standard ever since. I remember the feeling when I first tried it on in the store. Since then, I only buy shoes if I feel the same way as when that one was on my feet for the first time. What was torture at the beginning became routine with ZARA.

All I want to say is that sometimes it's good to have someone beside us who shows us the right direction or how to do what we've been doing well. There are lucky ones who immediately find what's best for them without any help. And there are those like me, whose feet are broken a million times by some crap before they realize what's good for them. And before you think this letter is a thank-you letter, you're wrong; I just want to say that I'm going to miss it terribly! I know I can do it alone now because I've learned to be conscious and persistent, and after 600,000 SMS messages, I know what to reach for in the store. I could explain more, but you still won't understand what I'm rambling about. But let's still work out together sometimes. Aren't we going to run your planned Citadel sometime?

PS: And you're right, why should I feel lonely when I achieved everything alone, which are all good things in my life? Then maybe that's the wrong word for it. I'm not lonely, it just feels good to know I'm safe in case of danger.

This will be good, I know it so well... I'll shed one last tear, feel sorry for myself for 2 minutes, then move forward because there's nothing to be sad about. By Friday, you can still call me fat, big-assed, or whatever you want, but after that, I won't tolerate it even from you, because the contract isn't binding and because I'm neither fat nor big-assed (anymore). And in return, from Friday on, I will never whine or nag at you again, nor send unnecessary SMS messages. A space will open up in your life, which if you listen to me, you'll keep for yourself, because you'll be completely overstimulated... listen to me!!!

Sorry it was long, with this I've truly closed it, no more sentimentality or outbursts, I promise.

Kiss,

Petra