vi var alla unga, mer eller mindre begåvade och vi var vackra


IDA #1 I always knew I was gonna fall in love with you

Ok, forget about the cheesy title for this post. But really, I always knew that one day, I would fall in love with him and here I am. I have a heart that is very likely to betray me by always getting, should we say, a little bit too involved with the bad ass guys, the player guys, the ones that leave you staring into space at night and wonder what went wrong this time? The bad guys that are always so sweet in the beginning, and you think “wonderful, oh, he makes me so happy, he is sweet and oh oh oh how I love his kisses and the random textmessages where he claims that he misses me” and you have some sex with him and you hold hands sometimes and you get drunk together and when he touches your back “just to see where the most sensitive parts are” you close your eyes and you once again feel at home and you can feel your inside relax and even though a little voice in your head is telling you not to, you let yourself let go. And then the weeks pass and…. well, you find yourself in the same old position again. Listening to sad songs, staring into space. Missing his every footstep on the floor, how he breathes on your ear, how you watch the sun rise with him, how the sweat is pooling in your bellybuttons one sunday morning/afternoon when you stay in some bed somewhere under a way too warm duvet the whole day and laugh and kiss and have sex and bite each other in the shoulder. Yeah, anyway, those guys are the ones that really speak to my heart. And yeah, anyway, I find myself in a way too familiar position. And I am like, oh my god, bloody fucking heart, why cant you fucking stop it. Please stop it. Stop feeling it. It makes me so goddamn tired.

Home-made cure for forgetting:
Drink 15-pesos-tequila until you black out
Have sex with his friend (no judging here please, all is fair in love and war right?)
Smoke and stare into space and listen to every song that reminds you of him
Drink the vodka in your fridge (mixing it with something is for pussies, drink it pure for the best “I hate myself-feeling”) and cry and curse your heart and the way it seems to work against you not with you
Have sex with the friend again

Do not:
Ask him to meet you 7 times and get the answer “no” all the time without getting the hint

God, I look at this and I feel so pathetic. I feel like a 14-year old. I feel like bloody Bridget Jones minus the happy ending. I feel like that but its pretty fair because I always knew I was gonna fall in love with him, because I know my heart, and because I know what makes it pound faster, and yeah, yeah, he was all of that from the beginning to the relatively bitter end.

This is a new blog so I guess that the first post is like a presentation. My first post pretty much pictures me as a sobbing alcoholic promiscuous person with a faiblesse for getting my heart broken by bad guys with spirits made of stone. Hi, my name is Ida.


  1. Min älskare läste och hoppas att det känns bättre.

  2. Jag kände att jag behövde återkomma till den här lite just nu. Tyvärr