Okay, okay. I will kill the suspense.

No, let's hang on to it for a little while. I don't really need to tell this story. It's not important. There's only one important part. But I want to write it all down so that in 10 years when I read it back I will remember the whole trip, not just the crushing blow. So let's start at the beginning and make it quick. We'll get there.

I started my trip last Monday of course. Got up at 4 am. Stood outside in the freezing cold at 5 am waiting for my taxi. The taxi driver was nice, knew that I was going for the airport bus when I told him the address. And we talked a bit on the way. It wasn't a long trip. I was at the SAS Radisson hotel in good time. Eventually the Aarhus-Billund bus came. I got on board and stared out into the darkness for the whole ride.

Got to Billund Airport. Not a really huge airport. Bigger than Tirstrup Airport though, where I had dropped off Skye last christmas. And this time I was on my own. Nothing to worry about though. I had some pieces of paper with useful information written down, including a little step-by-step guide that Skye had told me. So I knew pretty much what I had to do. And at the self check-in there was a nice airport lady who helped me check in and told me where to go after that. I went through the security scan and found my gate. Then I walked back and got myself a class of highly expensive airport coca cola. Went to the bath room. And then it was time to board the plane.

I wasn't really nervous about flying. It was a little more cramped than I had thought though. I had expected there to be two seats in a row but there was three. Next time I'm taking business class. But luckily there was only one other person in my row so we had an empty seat between us and I had lots of personal space. Good thing.

And when the plane started speeding up... wow. The take off. It was so cool. The feeling of sort of pressure and leaving the ground. It was almost orgasmic. What a rush. I loved flying. Seeing the clouds underneath. Eating breakfast with a sunset in the distance. Spectacular.

It wasn't a long flight. The wings had to be de-iced first but after that it was 50 minutes or so. It was over before it begun. And then I was in the Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam. A huge airport. And apparently I somehow managed to exit at the wrong gate. At least a different gate than the one Skye though I would be coming from. So I couldn't find her at first. I walked around a little and started to worry that maybe I was lost forever. But luckily I decided to check the "other" arrivals place. And I guess that was where I was supposed to arrive because Skye was there waiting for me. So that was a relief. Not being alone anymore. And seeing Skye again.

There was still more travelling to do though. Train first. Things were going okay. I was being fairly talkative I think. It's always hard for me. And eventually the tiredness really started to catch up with me. Hard to concentrate on anything else. We got to the Boxmeer station and had to wait for an hour for the bus to Het Heijderbos. That's the parc where we were going. A Centerparc. Eventually the bus came. Although it was more of a taxi-bus. It took a while before we realized that was the one we had to take. The bus ride itself was short though. We got to the parc. Went to the check-in building and got our keys to our vacation house. Went through the parc and found our house. A beautiful parc. Our house was by the water. With ducks constantly swimming around. Even at night you would sometimes hear loud quacking.

We got inside and got settled down. A nice place. Smaller than the bungalow we stayed in the last time I was in the Netherlands. But very nice nonetheless. The bed room was right up to the living room, there wasn't even a door between the two roms. It was almost like one big room, with the kitchen as a little alcove in the corner. And a nice view out on the river with the ducks gliding by.

We were both very tired at this point. We were sitting and watching the TV I think. Trying to decide whether we should go lie down and take a nap or if we should be brave and stay awake and just go to bed early that night. I think it must have been around six o'clock. Seven maybe. I can't remember. Eventually we decided to go to bed though and get a little rest. Then we could go shopping in the food store later and get provisions. We got in bed. And that's when it happened. I can't even remember exactly what lead to it. We were lying in the bed. Skye was feeling bad. Homesick I thought. She was crying. Or looking like she was going to cry but was holding it back. It didn't really surprise me. The same happened last time I was in the Netherlands. I knew she'd be homesick and missing her dog and we were having to get used to each other again and everything. But I guess this was different. She told me she couldn't go on anymore. I don't remember all the words now. I don't remember. But basically.. she dumped me. Well, we broke up. That's a nicer way of saying it I guess. Yes. So there you have it. Not exactly what I had been expecting. We had probably been in our vacation house for an hour or something? There I was in a strange country, with five days to go. And this happening.

Ugh.

It shows how much the internet matters to us that we were both worrying about diaryland. Hah. Skye was saying that now you would all hate her. And I was wondering how to write about all this. Almost feeling an obligation to stay together because of expectations and because of all the great support we've gotten from you guys. Yeah. But it's silly of course. It's our lives. We have to deal with this. And I know no one would hate Skye. I'd have to kick your asses if you did. She is still the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. Even though that moment was one of the worst moments in my life. But that's how it goes I guess. I wasn't angry with her or anything. I understand her reasons. She has waited for years for me. And even though I have gotten better I still have so many problems to deal with. I am not easy to be with. And I understand that she couldn't go on anymore. We didn't see each other at all last year. That's not good for a relationship. And I can go on about the hospital business and depression getting in the way of us meeting in the summer, but it doesn't change the fact that... I'm not really able to have a real relationship yet. And eventually something has to break.

We're still going to be friends. If I had been a normal guy I'm sure we'd be together. It's just the circumstances. We still care about each other a lot. She is still the most important person in my life. I never want to lose her. I don't know if I'll ever love anyone like I love her. Maybe reality hasn't completely sunk in yet but there's still some part of me that hopes that in 10 years I will have dealt with all my problems, I will have become a normal person. And Skye will have divorced that jackass who wasn't half as good as me. And then we'll hook up and get the future we wanted. But who knows what will happen. Being her friend is still a special thing. Maybe that is all I can ask for. I am not easy to love. I don't know if I will ever have another girlfriend. It took me ages to even start to believe that anyone could love me. I don't remember if I actually wrote it here or if it was just something I said to Skye, but one of the reasons why it took a while before I started writing about her here in my diary was the fear that I would eventually have to say "oh remember that great girl who actually loved me? Well she came to her senses and she doesn't love me anymore". I couldn't bear the thought of saying that someone loved me when I didn't believe anyone could really. It didn't go down quite like that I guess. I know she loved me. I don't know if anyone else can. Or will. It doesn't matter right now anyway. I am not capable of having a real relationship. I have my problems to work on, I must focus on them. I must make myself better then maybe some day in the future it will be different and I can find love. Or maybe I'll die alone. You never know. Right now I just need my strength to carry on here, alone. I want to give up. I do. What is the point? I can't be loved. I can't accomplish anything. I must give up and let myself fade away, give in to immediate pleasure. Not feel the pain of the moment, not care about wasting the future. That is what I want. Those are the thoughts. I have to resist that. Fight it. I went to work this morning. I wanted to stay in bed. Stay in bed for a long time. But I got going. And it went okay. And I must go tomorrow too. And I must do the things on my to-do list. Make things better. Keep going. And then maybe at some point things will be okay.

Anyway. That is the thing. I am alone now. That is the thing.

You can stop reading now, but for the purpose of preserving history I'll go on with the vacation story.

We were both feeling bad of course. We talked. Eventually I think we went to the market dome. The food store. Did some shopping. Came back. Talked. Both feeling very bad. I was swinging between numbness and pain. I'm not easy to be with. I don't know how to talk. Being close is hard. And now it was like all the reasons to try to do these things were gone. It's so hard, I only came to the Netherlands for us, for our sake, for our love. Now it wasn't there. Why was I there? I was tired and depressed. Not good company. And Skye needs company. We are the same in some ways. But we are different in others too. That is one of the reasons why it was too hard for her to go on too I'm sure. And she needs to talk, she needs people, her dog. I am a loner, I can't talk. And when I get depressed I draw into myself even further. So we were pretty much looking at a very hard five days of feeling bad. Skye wanted to go home. I wanted to go home. I couldn't go home. Skye could though. I told her she didn't have to stay. I knew she'd feel a lot better at home. I knew I would be making her feel bad with my depression. I knew I would feel bad too, being close to someone is hard enough already and with this situation even harder. So we were discussing the positibility of her going home and me staying in the parc until I could go home. She wasn't sure though. It's a strange thing to do of course. I'm sure most people would say it's crazy. She stayed another day. We tried to go out. We went to the jungle dome. A neat place with water and wooden boards and walkways between pillars and lots of fun for the family. But with too many people for my liking. And I was still too sad to appreciate anything. It became pretty obvious that we weren't going to have a good time. So she went back home on Wednesday morning. We went to the check-in house. Returned one of the keys. I walked her to the bus. And she went off. And then I was alone. All alone. In the Netherlands. In the parc. In my head.

It wasn't so bad. I mean it was horrible, but at least I could just... do my thing. Be alone. The first thing I did was take a 2 hour bath. I don't have a bath tub at home. If there were two good things on that vacation then it was the bath tub and the flying. I soaked for two hours. Emptying my mind. It made me want to go swimming. It also made me want to drown. I was alone and depressed. A bath tub seems like a good place to kill yourself. Drowning. A toaster in the water. Something. I had those thoughts. I did. But at least I have come a long way since January 1999. I couldn't kill myself. I don't know if I really wanted. I still get those thoughts. But I can't. And I won't. So I just relaxed and sank into the tub.Letting the water fill my ears. Like a crocodile in the river, only the vital breating parts over water.

And then two days alone. Watching TV and reading the book I had brought. That was pretty much all I did. Long, boring, lonely day. Missing Skye. But also conflicted emotions. Sleeping alone. It was so dark. The curtains were so heavy, there was literally no light at all coming in. I couldn't tell the difference between having my eyes closed and having them opened. Every once in a while a duck would quack loudly for a while. It sounded like laughter. Mocking me. Very alone. And I cried. For the first time really. No, I think I cried when we were sitting on the couch talking, before she left. But otherwise I had pretty much kept my composure. I was so far away from home, so far away from feeling safe. I couldn't allow myself to break down. I had to stay strong. But I cried alone in the dark. That's a pretty natural thing when something like this happens I guess.

I went out to the food store a couple of times. Other than that I stayed inside. Channel surfing on the TV. They had two Canal+ channels. Movie channels. So I watched some movies. Stupid ones. Old School. The Ring was on too but I decided not to watch it. I had a feeling that it would creep me out a lot and I would be all alone in a strange country in the deepest darkest night with laughing ducks and suicide on my mind. I will find a better time to watch it sometime.

On Thursday I called Skye with a phone card we had bought. My cell phone didn't work in the Netherlands. Skye had agreed to come back on Friday and help me with the travelling. Nice of her. Her parents thought it was stupid. I guess they were right. But I don't care. It's not like they will be my in-laws now. They can think I'm stupid. I am stupid. But travelling alone in the Netherlands wasn't something I was feeling much up to. I did take the bus taxi from the parc to the Boxmeer train station. And I took the train from there to Nijmegen. Then Skye met me there. And we took another couple of trains to Schiphol. We were there around 1 o'clock. My plane was leaving at 7.30. So 6½ hours of waiting for me. Skye showed me to the check-in machines and then she left again. There was no reason for her to wait around for 6 hours of course. Especially not now. I asked if I could have a hug before she left. A little one, she said. So we hugged a little. I went through the check-in area and was on my own again. In a huge airport. I walked around for a while, seeing where everything was. Eventually I settled down in one of the halls. Watching the planes outside. Reading my book. My mother later suggested that I could have tried to get on an earlier flight, maybe I should have. But I didn't feel like complicating things. Waiting wasn't so bad. Did some shopping. Spent my last euro coins on paprika Pringles. I don't get why we don't have the paprika flavour in Denmark. Stupid. But at least I could smuggle a couple with me home. I had dinner in McDonalds. Crappy french fries. I can't believe you have to pay extra for a tiny pack of ketchup. But there you go. Time snailed by. Eventually my flight time came closer. I went throught a couple of security and passport checks. My boarding pass said gate C11. I looked at the monitors and it said B17. And the plane was 15 minutes delayed. I went to the B gates. I was almost heading down the corridor when I checked the B gate monitor. Didn't say anything about any flights to Billund. Odd, I thought. I went to the C gate area and looked at the monitor there. Now my flight was at C10. No worries. Went down the corridor to gate C10 and asked the guy at the desk there if it was the right place. He said it was. Finally. Things were going smoothly. I sad down and waited. A lady sat down next to me. She had a dog. Like a pitbull terrier or something? I'm not sure what it's called. It had a lot of loose neck skin or so. It was pretty small and very quiet though. I think it was just a puppy. And they had been travelling all day too.

I got on the plane and sat down. Guess who sat down next to me? The lady with the dog. Funny coincidence. And again we were only two people in that row. The lady sat next to me though. And put her dog on the aisle seat. She had to put the bag with the dog down on the floor though, one of the stewardesses told her it had to go under the seat in front of her. Poor pup. It was hot too. When we were being served tea and coffee one of the stewards came and looked at the dog. He was a big hit with everyone. The steward had a bottle of water and he poured some in one of the plastic tea cups they had. Squatted down and let the puppy drink. A stewardess came by and said "did you remember to ask it if it wanted milk or sugar with that?". Fun. The lady was nice too. Talked to me often during the flight.

And the flight went fine. Another rush as we took off. It was a bit more boring though because it was night and you couldn't see much out of the windows. But I was going home, and I was very glad about that. Even more glad when we arrived at Billund. We were delayed but I had enough time to pop into the bath room and then I headed to the bus. Found it right outside. Got on the bus. The bus got going. Finally heading home. More than once during the week I had fantasized about that moment. Sitting in the bus, watching the landscape go by. Knowing I was almost home.

I had a little accident with a bottle of Sprite but other than that the ride went fine. Never have I been so glad to see Aarhus. Never have I been so glad to recognise my surroundings again. I went from the bus stop at the SAS hotel to the city bus stops by the train station downtown. I was going to wait for line 10, but then line 3 came along. So instead of waiting 30 minutes for the 10 I jumped on the 3. It meant I had to walk a bit to get home but I still saved a good deal of time. And never have I been so glad to see Ryhaven again. Familiar houses. Home. I got inside. Talked to my mother. Went online for a little. And then popped to bed.

And that was my trip. A long, long, hard, long trip. Far away in many ways. I'm glad I survived the travelling. It wasn't easy. But it's good for me. Something I learn from. Being on my own in another country is something I learn from too. And I guess the whole experience with Skye is something I'll learn from too. Grow as a person. Or something.

It's been days, but I still feel like I'm swaying back and forth. The rythm of the trains. Or the plane. I had that the last time I was travelling too. Eventually I'll settle down and my feet will stay steady on the ground.

And life goes on. I'm not feeling very strong. Very up to it. I'm feeling alone. And sort of hopeless. What future do I have? But I'll keep going. Keep taking my medication. Who knows, maybe it'll work some time. And I got a letter from the local psychiatry division. Going to a briefing next month. I have to fill in one of those psychological tests again. Cripes. It's the same one I filled in for Charlotte last year. And I'll have to tell the psychs my life story again. This better be the last time. Just fix me, for pete's sake. Just make it all okay.

Ah well. That was long. Sorry to bore you with my life. It's only rock'n'roll. Don't worry about me. I appreciate the sympathy though. I sort of needed that. I'm allowed to feel bad for myself sometimes. Call me stupid, I don't care. Nothing really matters much at the moment. That's not so bad.

The end.

(I can't be bothered to read this through now. If there are any mistakes or things that don't make sense then complain to the home office. I'll edit it later, probably)