Dating : An 8-year long love story

It was a brisk morning in February. The air was fresh, ice-cold, and a bit windy. I was walking by the riverbank in Cracow, feeling weightless, and enjoying the sun. It was all so perfect. I was very much in love and also decided that cultural studies are definitely not my thing. Haven’t told anyone then, I was savoring my decision, but I was so sure it’s all going to work out somehow.

As I walked past the bridge, I decided to take a casual stroll through Kazimierz, possibly the prettiest district in the city of Cracow. Always loved the tall, old buildings, narrow streets, and little cafes on every corner. Especially in the morning, when most of the city was asleep. I walked with my head high, trying not to trip on the bumpy brick road — I tend to look up at buildings because that’s where the little architectural gems are, near the roof or the highest windows. Gazing upwards I began daydreaming. ‘How my life will work out when I tell my parents I don’t want to finish my studies. At least not these. I will have to find a job, an apartment, start my life. Yes, that’s what I will do.’ And then, my thoughts shifted to an apartment in this district, with long, old wooden windows and a white kitchen. The sun gently shedding light on the cupboards, table, floor, and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Meanwhile, I am there, in a white, fluffy robe, opening the oven and checking if the first batch of my croissants is done. It was quiet and the whole kitchen smelled like heaven — black coffee mixed with hot, sweet buttery smells. ‘Yes, this is the life I want to live’ — I thought to myself, then snapped out of it as my left leg tripped on a brick and my mind instantly came back to reality. I remember smiling the whole time walking back to my dorm, cherishing my daydream.

Years have passed, I moved cities, changed studies and jobs (several times), moved on from a very long relationship, made new friends, gained weight, lost it again, drank countless bottles of wine, etc. However, the daydream I had in Cracow still followed me to this very day.

I had procrastinated for almost 8 years. I never had the courage to stop and fulfill this dream because I was terrified it won’t work out. That I will spoil it. As long as it was only in my imagination, it was perfect and I could go back to it whenever I wanted to. And I did very frequently, to be honest. It worked as a snuggle toy works with kids — gave me hope and ensured I was feeling secure somehow.

Three days ago I decided it’s time. 2020 is fucked up enough, I need a distraction and something I can be truly proud of this year. Not that I haven’t done anything else because work-wise it has been a hell of a year for me, but you know — I needed to fulfill a basically lifelong dream of mine. Which, interestingly enough, did not include having a partner. (I still am amazed at how my mind works, I am a commitment junky and this pretty daydream didn’t contain anyone but me. Huh. Self-love, is that you?)

And so I threw away my enormous fear of failure and started preparations. Croissants are not an easy thing to do, it takes appr. 3 days, a LOT of patience, focus, and time. Surprisingly, I did not drink wine while making them. Nevertheless, if we don’t count the amount of stress I felt during the whole process, I quite enjoyed it. Enjoyed folding the layers of dough with butter, rolling it several times (although I still don’t own a proper rolling pin, in my experience, a bottle of wine works quite as well), cutting it into pretty triangles, and rolling them up to their proper shape. It was pretty fun. The croissants are not perfect, but the smell and sunlight, coffee, and everything were just as I imagined it would be. It all fell into place. I did it and I am so, so happy!

So, I guess the moral of the story is, some things are worth waiting for. Procrastinating is not necessarily a bad thing — sometimes it might be the universe telling you to take your time so you can cherish the outcome. Especially if it’s a crunchy, golden, leafy croissant. The longest love story of my life and — quite frankly — the most rewarding one yet.