This is not a diary any more

Category: La sélection

The Bridge

When he holds me, I can feel his whole body slightly shiver. When he touches me with his hand, I get a strange feeling: as if some kind of energy is streaming into me. As if that point of physical contact is charged with some… presence. Never tried Reiki but imagine it’s something like that? […]

On the Second Day of Christmas

We go ice-skating with the kids. Pia remembers A from last summer when the four of us went to Bernardinai park together – they totally clicked. A looked after her on the playground as me and him were catching up on the bench, watching them from a distance. The children went hysterical in the car, making up […]

On the First Day of Christmas

He stands outside my house with a chic black bag. This is for you. Danish candy. Do you like liquorice? We hug giggling like kids. At the restaurant, he asks me: Wanna do this?


Pick up — Oysters and champagne dinner  — Smoke watching rooftops of churches and castles in the Old Town — Talk of war and who really built the Egyptian pyramids — Drive with radio on – why do they keep singing about the same thing on and on? — My legs in the clear foamless water […]


Your name doesn’t suit you at all. I’ve sensed this my whole life. And then I remembered! He used to call me Marla. Here’s why:  

Friday Night Mother – Daughter Chat

I’m going out to see a friend, mother. So you’ve dated him or his brother? Errr, dating wouldn’t be the word of my choice… but both. Ok.

Everything Is Second Best Now

Always thought that as soon as I knew what I wanted, life would become clear-cut. I know what I want now, crystal clear.

Outside the Doors

Do you notice how men stand in queue to talk to you? They come up one after another. No, there aren’t that many. Of course, there’s an old lover who’s always there.

There Are No Right Decisions, Just Decisions

I began to think perhaps you are my destiny. Precisely because you are everything I look down on. I have learnt that people whom I find extremely, disturbingly unlike me are the ones to teach me the hardest lesson. The one I need the most?


I am revisiting places. The hardest part is digesting the fact which has just been thrown in my face in a manner that couldn’t possibly be more obvious – and therefore it is horrid – that I am in the same place I’ve been a decade ago. 


Hello. I’ve finished my phone call outside the business centre when he passed by. Looked a bit more slouchy and the dark hair had silverish highlights in places. There was still that Gypsy playfulness about the face, just like 10 years ago.

Looking for One, Finding Another

I open my eyes and slowly return from a sticky dream. In moments like these, I feel like a sick person on meds sensing he’s almost recovered – sleep is my drug, my sea. I can never get enough. Yet I take a look at the ceiling and it strikes me: I jump out of bed […]


I thought I was mean and you were naive. But you played us all. You played each and every one of us before leaving this town. He pressed his fingertips to his temples while lingering above the tea cup, still surprised at the revelation. I sat there comfortably, looked at him and smiled. I thought you knew.  

On the Way

I think I have told you everything there is to tell another person, and yet it still feels like a vast Universe untold, and I am desperate I will never have a chance, or time; that I will die, and nobody will let you know why I don’t reply to emails.

On Genius, Transformed

Last night, I dreamed Genius again. I’d dream him all those years since I dramatically moved to Vilnius, as someone once put it. Because it was the autumn I moved here that I met him, and it was 11 years ago.