Phoenix

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Phoenix Page 2

by Eleanor Moon


  I gave a “read me” into his hands: I was too honest and asked every little detail I wanted to know. He perfectly knew I was still in love with him. He is the only guy who can perplex me without words. I’m a free-spoken person, who hardly gets embarrassed, and I fall in love only with those who are able to throw me into confusion. And I told him this. And we can put a thick to failure number two. The biggest one.

  Around ten, an old man came to our table offering some flowers from a little basket. I saw him touching his wallet. I couldn’t utter a word only nonverbally give a sign not to buy me anything. Despite of this, my soul was screaming to get a flower, an iris, one of my favourite beauties in the flora. The man looked at us sadly. I felt sad, too. It was long ago when I got a flower without any holidays. What happened to us?

  Nevertheless, we had a good time chatting. Actually, I didn’t pay attention to him. My thoughts were louder than his words.

  Afterwards we went on a short walk to the river-side. I tried to keep the distance until we arrived to the parking place, where the car next to his reversed. Making use of the time, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. I made a mistake: that was the greatest failure all night! A kiss tells more than a hundred words. And my lips were shaking...

  ♠♠♠♠

  Chapter 7. Final destination

  Once we were together four years ago. Then our relationship lasted relatively long, still, it was powerful, energetic and harmonic. We were too young to decide what to do in the future. The situation was almost the same, only the life-period was different. I went to college, he stayed at home. We didn’t manage to live up to a relationship in which the distance between us was 300 kilometres. But the main problem was not really the geographical proximity, but the remoteness between us in an emotional sense.

  Oh, my Goodness, the same feeling came back when the half-empty glass of gin-tonic was more interested than his story. A decisive second has come: I got over him. My irony, the greatest weapon of all times to defeat your enemy with one movement of your eyebrow, came back. I could laugh out loud on my own joke. To be honest, the whole year of depression seemed to be a bitter joke. Now I should call it semi-suffering. It wasn’t worth the time.

  How come that I stepped twice into the same river? Luckily I see the parallel. This time, I hope, I will never go back to him. I will hear the alarm when his approaching me. It doesn’t matter that my lips were shaking when he kissed me. It doesn’t matter how he is looking at me. If I won’t see him anymore, I won’t be depressed. Actually, I can see the differences between us, which aren’t magnetic anymore.

  I fell in love with the smell of trees in bloom this spring. I adore the lightness of the breeze. I enjoy the coffee with my colleagues on the Main Square. The sunshine gave my old smile back. Only the nice memories are flowing on the surface after a year.

  A relationship like this should be seen as a puzzle: you receive the tiny little pieces in bulk in a box. You open it. Releasing after the first wave of fear, you realize, the task is not as difficult as it looks like, and you’re begin to bring order into the chaos. Piece by piece the parts of the whole are starting to get the circular line of the picture. Putting those parts together, the picture is more vivid than you imagined. Then you should frame it, and hang it on the wall to remind you the effort, time and energy put into solving the task. As the time goes by, the story of puzzling becomes shorter and less interesting.

 


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