guy's mind

For three years I have been in love
with one and the same woman
who I would love to be my life partner

With whom I want to share joys and sorrows
triumph and tragedy

Every day with her in my life
I picture a blessing beyond my wildest dreams

I love her more than any words and
any vows and any poetry could ever capture


This is how I feel right now; and how I've felt for a long time. Everybody tells me I should move on and leave the past behind me.

What must I do in order to change?

There is no other word that better describes how I currently feel. I did not sleep last night. My thoughts concentrate on one single person: Rachelle.

I have not heard from her. That's why.

I re-read what I wrote to her. Never ever would I write the same again. Why did I choose the words I chose? What was I thinking!

Empathy is the catchword here. I believe men are equipped with only a small fracture of what women have. (Maybe this is why we love them so much?!)

I've repeatedly noticed that I sometimes don't manage to cope with other people's feelings very well, and every so often unintentionally hurt people. Even though it seems that I especially hurt people who I love so much!

In order to compensate for what still has huge potential for development within me I have read books and articles about empathy. Psychological articles. Even articles and web sites that deal with insight and disorders related to psychiatry. 'Emotional Intelligence' by Daniel Goleman is currently on my nightstand. I hoped that reading all these findings provided by experts would help me develop this important ability.

Know what, folks? It ain't no help.

Showing other people my feelings and that I care about them a lot, is something I can only practice in real life. Neither the best book, the most recent article, the most helpful web site, or even the most affectionate pointers from friends work for me. I need to truly live it. And run the risk of making mistakes. Mistakes that I hopefully won't repeat.

After two days of despair I start to have deep regrets again. If only I had done this and that; if only I had written it another way; if only I had revealed more about myself ...

The list is endless.

Only one single word
Reams of books about
A thousand definitions
A million meanings

Five letters only
Capable of changing all
Change one's life
Change one's reality

The opposite
Is often preferred
For personal interest
Not to hurt one

Every so often, though
Truth may cause less harm
But bring clarity
And stable fundamentals

Not only in the vernacular
Is honesty
The best policy

Several readers have asked me about Rachelle's first reaction to my question. I choose not to post her exact words on this blog. Nonetheless, here's a summary of her message:
- she does not live in my neighborhood
- she lived with her sister for a few weeks (who lives in my town)
- she has just graduated with her bachelor's degree
- she is currently doing an internship with a bank
- she hopes I'm motivated for my classes :-)

So far, so good. I intend not to interpret her message. After all, it is difficult for me to guess what she meant by the words she chose.

I wish I had more empathy. I wish I knew whether she will eventually be impressed by the efforts I take, or will take.

Taking a look at her actions; I would definitely consider myself the luckiest guy in the world already if, for instance, she wrote "I like you" on a coaster to me. Seriously.

The question remains; how could I ever know? At what point should I ever stop courting her? If I did have an answer to this question, I would certainly take any effort necessary to win her heart. This is for sure.

For now, my dear bloggers; I'm simply going to wait for another response.

or 35 meters, 27 centimeters, 5 millimeters.

This the combined length of 421 cigarettes I would have smoked if I was still a smoker.

I still have not experienced any withdrawals. Nor have I been tempted to light up when I was with smoking friends. Should I worry?!

This evening I went to the movies with my sister, Zarah. It was good for her. To distract her attention from her ex boyfriend. As all of you know, he recently broke up with her. He did. For resons I can only speculate about.

Zarah has been very sad since he broke the news. Probably as sad as she had never been because of a broken relationship. Understandably. Every now and then she talked about marrying him one day. With kids. And a lovely home.

This afternoon they had a long conversation about their future. Or better, their separate futures. He repordetly added that he was not sure yet. Not sure whether he truly wanted to leave her.

Zarah told me that he amounted the odds to be 80/20. Thus, the probability he would definitively leave her is 80%.

His statement made me think about emotions again: Is it possible to express feelings as mathematical values or probabilities? If so, is it wise to do so?

Rachelle has sent me a response. And I replied to her note.

I tried to be affectionate. Distant enough, at the same time. Show her that I am interested in what she does, what she likes, what bothers her. Yet at the same time it seemed important to me not to 'pester' her. I'm not sure if it was right what I did. Whether she will be put off.

After I had sent my reply I got to think about courting.

How much effort is a guy supposed to make? Where do you draw the line between courting and annoying a woman?

Given that a woman is looking for her fairy tale prince, as one of the blog readers previously outlined; how can an actual human male ever fulfill her most romantic dreams?

is all I can say for now.

To those of you who have followed my thread 'universeofwomen.' (Which, by the way, obtained its name from the fact that I often feel women must be from a different universe.)

Yesterday evening, I did it. As many of the bloggers previously suggested to me, I sent a note to Rachelle. And I asked her.

On re-reading it this morning, I feel it will not suffice. Not affectionate enough. Not distant enough. And still, for now I have to wait. Simply knowing that she will eventually read it stirs my emotions. She will read something that I wrote.

Everybody dreams. My dream is to win her heart. If only I knew how to.

I would like to fly over her house in a helicopter, showering her home with roses.

But for now, I would like to just receive a nice and delighted response.

what a morning to start off the day.

My sister, Zarah, called me early and sadly told me that her boyfriend had broken up with her. The two of them had been together for more than three years. They had shared their second apartment. But not anymore. She did not tell me why he wanted to seperate from her.

I can only surmise that he left her because of the 'stiff culture' (his own words) her family allegedly lives and that she grew up in. This is what he repeatedly complained about (even to me!).

Whether my sister, my family, including me, truly live in a 'stiff culture'; or whether his people's culture perhaps is ignorant, impoverished, or impertinent -- I believe to draw the line on this issue is a matter of personal judgment.

Ironically, today's weather precisely reflects how she must feel:

I was a tad nervous when I arrived at the orthopedist this afternoon.

He first explained to me how the Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) technology works. Interestingly, this tomography has produced numerous images of my left knee at different layers. This allows the physicians to compare the structure and texture of my knee to a healthy one. And; guess what? It looks completely like a healthy knee.

So the answer to the title question previously posed definitely is: in. In the grasp of the Swiss armed forces, I am a man capable to join, and they will train me to be a true and real soldier. Who would've thought.

In Switzerland, it is mandatory for every man to join the Swiss armed forces at the age of 19. That's because my country considers itself to be a neutral state and therefore features a militia only. (Please do not ask me to explain whether it's possible to be neutral; and to explain what a neutral behavior and attitude are.)

A service in the Swiss armed forces includes your recruitment, your training, and several refresher courses. If you are physically or mentally not capable of joining the armed forces, you will have to pay a surrogate tax. This is what it says in our constitution. So far so good.

At 2.00 pm this afternoon I have an appointment with an orthopedist because of my 'knee problem.' (The quotes indicate where this is going.)

Before I went to my recruitment several months ago, my GP wrote a medical certificate for me that said it was unadvised to have me in the army. He wrote that he feared for my knee's condition to worsen during a straeneous time with the army. The colonels at the recruitment centers later expressed a different view on the issue.

I have appealed this decision and need to supply further evidence. This is where the orthopedic specialist comes in.

But do I really want to cop out? Lately, I've secretly felt an inner wish to join. To be with all the other guys. To struggle. Phsically and mentally. To be a man. To fulfill my duty.

Would my joining the army truly effect my maleness? Is it solely my stereotyped thinking? And how do the girls think about it? Is this what can make a man butch and brawny?

Numerous bloggers have asked me by e-mail how I quit smoking and begged me to share my experience in more detail.

Most smokers don't go cold turkey without any aid, or without even thinking about it for more than just a moment. Those who quit without any preparation will usually take up smoking again within minutes, hours, or days. That's because they experience withdrawals.

Now, here's how to:

I truly believe that you can only become a non-smoker (or ex-smoker), if you suddenly don't feel like smoking anymore. If you suddenly believe that not smoking makes more sense. And if suddenly, you feel an inner desire to kill the addiction within you. Not just for days, but for ever. That's my view.

This method by Allen Carr was also used by renowned politicians, actors, scientists, and other celebrities in order to successfully quit smoking. Ashton Kutcher, Anthony Hopkins, Barbara Branden, Ellen DeGeneres, Johnny Cash, Richard Branson, and Ruby Wax; to mention only a few of them. In addition, numerous companies have offered it to their employees.

His method is available as a seminar or a book. I did the book and it's helped me perfectly.

The book is called EasyWay, it's available in numerous languages, and it costs only like two packs of cigarettes. This is what the books look like in English and German. Click on the book to get amazon's reviews and details on it.

I know. The title sounds as if some snake oil salesman had written it. But it's not.

I've been with my parents since Friday evening.

Yesterday, my dad turned 55. He threw a hilarious birthday party and had several friends over for a barbecue. Everybody was having a great time. By coincidence, there was not a single smoker among the guests. This is what striked me; but it didn't annoy me not to smoke. I was just feeling good.

Early this morning, I went for a run in the woods near my parents' house. Suddenly, there was this cute little squirrel that hopped across the treck. I stopped running, and it seemed as if the squirrel had been surprised to see a human being. We looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and then it turned its back to me. Holding a yellowish brown acorn between its front paws, it disappeared again, calmly as it had appeared.

I was thinking: Isn't nature just wonderful? And, why do some people not care about it?

I wish I'd had my celly with me to take a picture of it. But then, it would not be the same. I've realized that this is why I love to go running in the woods, it's because of what nature has to offer.
I hope to meet a squirrel again.

Je fais des choses inexplicables, jour après jour
Je fais du douleur à mes proches, sans cesse
J’ai envie de faire de la vie des autres un enfer, sans raison
Je me sens coupable en ne regrettant rien
Il y a tant de tristesse, tant de joie ; les deux, en même temps

Pourquoi sont-ils ainsi, les choses ?
Pourquoi me sens-je comme je me sens ?
Butterfly Effect, l’appelle-t-on en Anglais
La théorie que toutes les actions tiennent des résultats immédiats
La théorie que l’on ne peut rien changer, en rétrospective

Si j’avais – ou si j’étais
Si j’avais m’inscrit à une autre université
Si j’étais une autre personne
Saurais-je plus content, plus heureux en cet instant précis ?
Evidemment : en les deux cas, rien ne peut plus être changé

Tous ces événements qui me gênent et que j’aimerais bien faire inexistants
Peut-être, peut-il être qu’ils ne reflètent que la vie ?
Une vie pleine des expériences, riche en des sentiments divers ?
Une vie dont je rêvait, toute ma vie ?
Or, il semble que les regrets déprécient les moments précieux de la vie

J’éspère à y trouver des réponses
Mais, des réponses, pour expliquer encore tout ?
Mais, pourquoi expliquer tout ?
Ne pourquoi pas se réjouir des moments nouveux ?
Se réjouir de ce qui est encore à arriver, laissant le passé derrière soi ?

Regretter, ça ne sert à rien ;
car les regrets feront de la vie und vie insignificante, sans importance

Rachelle, or rather her look-alike, has not been home the past few days. Thus, I don't know yet whether it's her who lives next door to me.

Whether what I saw was real. Or, whether I cannot distinguish daydreams from brutal reality anymore. Whether I can lay eyes on Rachelle again. Or, whether she's truly past.

All I can do, is wait. And I will. I'm going to have two entire weeks to find out for myself as my room mate is away for civil defense. Nobody will tell me that I'm crazy and to 'cut the crap.' It's going to be two weeks of finding out about my mental health, too. Even though imagination is human, I guess.

Please, keep your fingers crossed for me.

This is the amount of nicotine I did not absorb since I quit smoking. What's more, I

- did not smoke in 16 days, 2 hrs, 17 secs
- did not smoke 273 cigarettes
- did not inhale 1.91 g tar
- did not spend CHF 46.41 on cigarettes
- gained 18 hrs, 12 mins of 'smokefree time'


pretty cool, huh? Kudos to Allen.

after I woke up this morning
everything seems similar

same people
same business
same routine

day after day

can't we stop the world
I need to get off
- a short moment -

change habits
improve life
heal wounds

same, as always
but, no way

maintenance work
at running motor

Do women really want their partner to be perfect; both

butch and beautiful
harsh and sensitive
rational and intuitive
a predator and a confidant
incorruptible and adaptive

Superman meets Albert Schweitzer
spends all day dashing into fray
while making world safe for democracy
at night, playing Bach cantatas
while curing cancer

Rachelle is also about my needs. And about me.

In hindsight, I feel that there would have been several occasions where I could have shown my real self to her. Or at least just talk to her. I mean, I once sat next to her for nearly two hrs. And some say I was even invited to a soccer tournament by one of her friends. If true, how more stupid could I be? To be more 'present' might have made her curious about who I am.

My room mate once told me that I repeatedly behaved like a small narcissist. The story line of Echo and Narcissus includes:

[Narcissus] dixerat: 'ecquis adest?' et 'adest' responderat Echo. [...]
voce 'veni!' magna clamat: vocat illa vocantem.
respicit et rursus nullo veniente 'quid' inquit'
me fugis?' et totidem, quot dixit, verba recepit. [...]

'huc coeamus' ait, nullique libentius umquam
responsura sono 'coeamus' rettulit Echo [...]

ille fugit fugiensque 'manus conplexibus aufer!
ante' ait 'emoriar, quam sit tibi copia nostri';
rettulit illa nihil nisi 'sit tibi copia nostri!'

Narcissus did not want to bond with Echo. He simply was not interested in her. He only was interested in himself.

In contrast to these verses of Ovid's Metamorphoses, I am not pleased with what I did. I am certain I like the person she is. I am certain I would let her be part of my feelings. And, I am certain I would let her touch my inner self. I would jump at the chance in a second life. But in this life, it seems time to move on.

The moment I'm writing this, I'm on my way for my shared apt. I spent nearly two weeks with my parents, primarily to recharge my batteries and to bring my thoughts into order. (And oh yeah, to install a brandy new comp. for my parents and arrange everything the way they like it.)

I have outlined in previous posts what issues had bothered me before I left my college town. The time with my parents has allowed me to look at them from a distance. It enabled me to draw conclusions for my future actions and the way I look at things now.

First of all, it does not bother me whether the girl who has moved in my neighborhood really is the girl I thought she was. Let's call her Rachelle, to give her a more human face in this blog. I could write books about Rachelle, even though I don't really know her. All I know is that she has a tremendously strong impact on me. In a way, I feel as if she was able to control me. And this has repeatedly frightened me.

When she declined to go out for a cup of coffee with me, I was hurt. When I found out that she was in a relationship, I was hurt. When she waited several days to say thanks for a small Christmas present, I was hurt. Maybe I was not hurt, but much more disappointed. Disappointed of myself. Disappointed that I wasn't able to make her feel attracted to me. Disappointed not to be dating her.

For me, she's beautiful, brilliant, caring, ambitious, and nice -- all in one. She's the every-guy's-dream-blondy-Barbie meets Jeanne d'Arc.

But we didn't match. That's just life. It was simply not meant to be. It's not my fault. But it's not hers, either. There are other guys who have more to offer. Much more. More brains. More money. Better looks. More and better of everything. Who would blame her for wanting to do better?

The idea of her living in my neighborhood freightened me beacause I had been inclined never to see her again. I did not want to. I worked hard to keep her in my past, not letting her be part of my present, or future, in particular. I cried. I cried. I had to find other women I could be interested in. And I have. Not the same. Not equal in any capacity. But they are nice, too. And most of all, they care for me.

Why should I be frightened to meet Rachelle? Why should I feel upset/angry about the idea of her living in my neighborhood? I'm afraid of showing her that she somehow is able to emotionally control me. But I have realized that some things in life, we simply cannot control. Rachelle is one such thing in my life.

I have told girls that I wasn't interested in them. But always, always did I feel flattered when they showed me that they liked me. Based on the image I have, I suppose Rachelle would be flattered as well.

Therefore, it's not the end of the world, whether she lives close to me or not -- whether I will ever see her again or not. I need not be afraid of these intense feelings -- whether they will stay with me for ever or not.

If I ever saw her again, I wouldn't be frightened. I would try to treat her like any special woman. She seems special to me; so what? Why wouldn't she be able to deal with this? And after all, I am sure she would not even know.

There was this home party I went to on Sat evening. To begin with, I hadn't had a drink of alcohol in weeks as I had been on medication. Boy oh boy, by the time I arrived at the party the majority of the other guests were boozed already. (Before I arrived the host had held a diner which I didn't want to attend.)

Before I left my parents' home, my dad had told me to be careful not to smoke again. He knows from his own experience that cigarettes and alcohol often go hand in hand: After he had quit smoking years ago, he was regularly tempted to light up when drinking wine or a beer.

I expected the evening to be a challenge for me; looking at other smokers, looking at how pleasurably they would take one drag after the other, looking at how coolly they would exhale clouds of smoke. But it was not.

I felt at ease with smokers around me. I didn't envy them. I did not at all. I didn't know why.

I was truly happy not to smoke anymore. I didn't have to spend the entire evening on the porch, freezing my butt off. My breath didn't smell. I didn't endanger my health. In addition to numerous other reasons.

But most astonishing of all, I didn't find any reason why I should smoke, why I should envy other smokers, and why I should feel restricted for not allowing myself a smoke. In contrast, I allow myself not to be hooked anymore. I've killed the nicotine monster in me.

After only 11 days, is it appropriate to feel like a non-smoker? Probably not. It's "one day at a time," as the slogan of A.A. goes. In terms of my non-smoking-project it means that I may have overcome my physical addiction to nicotine, and that I don't usually feel an urge to smoke anymore. However, I will always have to be careful not to engraft another nicotine monster in me, as Allen Carr names the addiction.

I'm certain I'll watch out for it. Before it's too late again. Simply because the price is too big.

My parents are unathletic. It's taken me an extra effort to go out for a run these last days.
But I did. And it feels great. And I still don't smoke.
Hopefully, I will never ever start again.

Here's some pictures I'd like to share with you. Looking at other people who do sports is constantly a great motivation for me to take care of my health. I don't know why. But it is :-)

As my regular GP has been on vacation, I went to see his substitute this afternoon. I was dealing with a swollen salivary gland that had swollen to the size of a pea. For weeks I had put off seeing a doctor, until I decided to take action today.

Dr. A. did his very best when he cut out that fleshy pea. It took some help of his wife, and even my hands to lash the threads, and after a one-hour visit I was prepared to go home again. Until tomorrow. And oh, until next week for a final check.

The swollen gland Dr. A. cut out was put into a Formalin tube and sent in for a thorough analysis. I'm excited to find what exactly had caused this.

After more than three days without a cigarette: I feel how the taste in my mouth is returning :-) Honestly, my body feels much better already and I still haven't experienced any withdrawals. No sweaty hands, no headaches, no sleepless nights, no nothing.

Here's some material related to my non-smoking project that I like a lot:

.

Besides not lighting up in a few days, there are no important news at this time. It seems as if my neighbor girl hasn't been home lately. For the next days I won't be able to 'keep an eye on her' (does this sound like a stalker?) anyway, as I'm visiting my parents. I do hope I will find out if it's her; living just next door to me. We'll see.