EMANUEL, 34 years old
The object I’ve chosen for the casting is a painting.
The story behind this item:
Meticulous details have been lost from memory because the following events took place in 2017, and I personally was not in a stable period of my life.
I met a person at a party who also happened to be a co-worker’s flatmate. It sounds like Hollywood romance or something out of “Friends”, but it won’t end as nicely.
We both felt a spark the night of the party and, like any normal human, of course, we started talking – what actually means endless texting on a social media platform, in this case Facebook Messenger.
From November or the beginning of December, when that party took place, we wrote a lot of messages to each other, as she was working from home being at the beginning of her career as an architect and at the same time she was also painting – and I as an IT-ist working 12-hour night shifts.
The way we were talking to each other seemed fun and very passionate, there were no limits in communication, and “sexting” was part of our dialogue.
Now, I have to share something with you. At that time I was doing an advanced and intensive form of therapy because mentally I wasn’t in a very good point, and I was also hiding it because I felt it like a male weakness, so please don’t forget this aspect.
In the months that followed, we scheduled meetings at various events or locations- hers were more on the cultural side – theater, jazz concerts, cafes and tea houses and- I came with proposals for large-scale parties, nightclubs, home cooking, cinema. It seemed that we were compatible, but for various reasons the carnal side had not taken place, as we were not in a relationship, not even an open relationship, and strangely, this was because of some disappointments she had experienced. But it’s not up to me to share them with you. So our label was somewhere on the spectrum of we have priority over others, there are no limitations, everyone does what they want.
It’s not the healthiest way to start a relationship with someone, but, as absurd as it seems, we both resisted into this commitment because it offered us a form of freedom that turned out to be a bitter illusion.
One day in February, she sent me a picture of two bloody hands and I really resonated with that picture, because it was a couple holding hands, covered in blood.
After we passed over the carnal side, which had already become a problem because there was a lot of sexual tension created between us, especially on her part, she gave me a gift- a painting that I had chosen, and she only told me that it was inspired by that picture, and I, as a fool, didn’t ask her about its meaning.
Around April, after some different opinions that kept gathering, we started ghosting each other. On one hand I couldn’t deal with her incisive reactions, on the other hand she accused me of treating her like a trophy. So we broke up, but without declaring it. Strange. I know. Don’t forget that I was still doing therapy.
Some time later she was still writing to me and maintaining a limited dialogue. I asked if she wanted the painting back, and the answer I got was “No”, that I could keep it, because that painting strictly represents me and what I need in life, as just a woman who has been through difficult things just like I did, would be able to handle a relationship with me and hold on to me, and no other woman would deserve me.
Of course I was moved to tears because I had already made progress with the therapy and that was a moment of catharsis.