There is a saying that if you are dating a writer, prepare yourself to be used as a writing material afterwards. I could not agree more. I wrote about almost all lovers of mine. All of those stories are buried on a forgotten blog I used to maintain years ago. I wrote them in Bosnian and I shared them with people selectively.
I was dating my ex-husband for 20 days when he asked me to marry him. I was crazily in love, so I said ‘yes’ instantly. At the moment we received the official papers stating we are not longer married due to the ‘irreconcilable differences’ we had been separated for two years already. In the beginning of our relationship I felt pure love for this man. I wanted everything with him, but before anything I needed us to be completely honest and transparent to each other. So, what did I do? I gave him the link to my blog (that Bosnian one which I kept safe from many) to read my stories about my ex lovers, sex, emotions and other contemplation. Each story was about a different experience and told from a different angle, but all of them had one thing in common: each was based on real people and real moments shared with them.
Being completely naive at 24, I was not aware of possibility that this act could have a negative impact on our relationship. I thought honesty is the highest level of bonding and understanding between two people who chose to spend the rest of their lives together. But apparently I was wrong. He was cold to me for few days without explaining the reason. I felt puzzled. I gave a thought to everything that was happening recently and I could not find the reason for his odd behavior. We had a giant pink elephant in the room and we ignored it. Eventually, this situation escalated to a fight from which I learned the cause of his strange behavior towards me. He pointed to my action of ‘sharing is caring’, and he was almost ready to end our relationship. But as he said, he gave a thought to everything and came up with the conclusion that I am a lunatic, otherwise I would never present my past love affairs written in such detail to him. He also added that he loves me despite everything and that nothing can change that. But he was wrong- life could, and did eventually.
Funny thing is, I never wrote any story about him, because I loved him. Neither did I ever write about another man who proposed to me twice before my ex-husband. He was my first love, a friend and an inspiration. He is a man I am very proud of. But I never told him that. He has a new life, a wife and a new profession across the ocean, but I trust he still has the same sense of humor and melancholy as back then when he first introduced me to Džamonja’s short stories. He told me that he found this writer who reminds him of me; it’s a male version of you, Goldie! – he said. He could not be more right.
If you are wondering what happened to us afterwards, you will not be surprised by reading the same answer: life happened. Life is the only thing that is happening around the globe.
So, dating a writer is a challenge. You might become their writing material. But only and exclusively after they are over you. Because white sheets of paper are the cemetery for our lost loves, abandoned dreams and hopes, and fears overcome.