Page 72 of The Happiness Blueprint
Saga: Who? Alex?! This is good news, little sister.
Me: There is something I can’t get my head around.
Saga: It’s simple. You like Alex. Alex is single. Happy days.
Me: Yes, but if he were single all this time, and if he liked me, surely he should have made it known?
Saga: You were dating Tom... This would have stopped him from making any advances. Also, your attitude when thinking he was married may have factored in.
Me: So my relationship was a token like the ring? It had similar repellent action?
This makes a lot of sense. Saga can always explain so I understand. We both had tokens that prevented us from seeing the attraction. How was I supposed to know that the ring wasn’t his, and how was he supposed to know that I wasn’t enjoying my time with Tom? That is the problem with tokens: they don’t tell the full story.
That evening, I remember Google’s advice to think of how I want my life rather than who I want to be. I write the list that Google asked me to compile.
I want to experience both Swedish and English life.
I want to work with properties. But not with their font-speaking buyers, the actual properties. Drawing them, visualizing them, making them change.
I want to make a positive impact in my nephew’s life. Both in terms of my presence and in terms of achievements that could make him proud of me.
I want my family and my friends in my life. Alice is dying to see me, and I decide to stay in touch with Hanna when I go.
I want to have Alex in my life but not in a WhatsApp group or as a friend. No, Alex I have no boundaries for. Even though we are taking things slowly, I know that I’ll be wanting him next to me, in front of me, behind me, on top of me and under me.
The first two points stand there without a solution. I can’t addfind similar job to YourMovebecause replying to questions and dealing with technical glitches is not working with properties. It also wouldn’t be the career that inspires my nephew—because it’s not what I really want. I can’t hide the fact that I would like to be an architect. The measurements, seeing a vision come to life. Learning about carpentry has only strengthened this. I would have less customer interaction and less driving, which would be a benefit to my mental health. And here I curse Google. It’s all good to write lists and focus on what I want until who I am stops it all.
I am Klara Nilsson. I am diabetic and Autistic. I have dreams and aspirations. But I can’t even pass an IELTS test to make them happen.
ALEX
Personal Calendar
• NEW TASK:Find a way to make this work
• NEW TASK:See previous
• NEW TASK:Because this could be fucking everything
A week passes in a strange blur of me and Klara together. Within seconds of us arriving for work everyone knows. Don’t mind. She used to walk a yard away from me, and now her arm constantly brushes the side of my body. It’s like I’m her center point, and I love it. When she moves away her eyes stay on me. Revel in the odd sense of constant well-being.
“You are like a werewolf that has imprinted,” I tell her.
“I didn’t realize you watch teenage vampire shows. Also, not sure werewolf is that flattering of a comparison.” But I can tell that she is taking my comment in a good way.
Think of the past months. All the time we—I—wasted. And not just the time since I stepped into the home office on the farm and saw her for the first time, the time before that. The years before I knew that I’ve spent settling, floating, accepting life to be average.
Dump some fruit in a bowl I just bought. Went all out and got a scented candle as well. Vanilla, which makes me think of Calle. And place mats for the table. Oh, and a flower in a ceramic pot. Just in case she likes to see any of those things in someone’s home. Most important buy is the kitchen scale, which I’m carefully putting portions of pasta onto now, making a mental note of carbs per hundred grams. Want to get cooking for Klara right. This is our first date, after all, unless you count sharing a sandwich in the van.
Mamma has left a voice note, and I listen as I wait.
“Alex, love, it’s Mamma. But I guess you saw that on the screen already. Hi. Would you say to wear black tomorrow? Or would some color be acceptable? I know it’s not a funeral, but I can’t imagine color in a place like that, can you? Will you be wearing your suit? I’ve ironed Pappa’s, which is charcoal, if you remember? Anyway. I’ll probably call Dan and ask him if you don’t get this message.”
Write back to her, finishing with a red heart.Wear what feels comfortable. Not too tight, something you can breathe in and not suffocate. You’ll be fine.Trying to be a support for my parents now, as they’ve been for me. Feels good to resume a role I can fill.
A reminder pops up.Dinner at Alex’shas been edited from7to7:20with the noteCan’t find parking.
I reply:I’ll be right down.
