Saturday, July 25, 2009

"Do you remember High School?"

He entered the room. She sat on the bed, taking off her earrings.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a strange look on his face.

“What does it seem like? Taking off my earrings. Honey, in case you didn’t notice, I do this every evening.” She said slightly amused.

She put the jewelry carefully in its case and put it back on the chest. When she turned around she found her husband sitting on the bed where she just sat some moments ago. He looks a bit sad or nostalgic; an absent stare on his polished black shoes. They just came back from the theater where they met some good old friends of them. It had been a pleasant evening and everybody seemed to enjoy the company of the other. So what was wrong with him?

“Darling… everything alright?” She approached him but he didn’t seem to hear her. She sat next to him and he lifts his eyes and looked to her waiting and at the same time worried face. Seeing this he was surprised and immediately smiled to comfort her. He laid his arm around her shoulder.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He mumbled into her hair. She smiled and squeezed his thigh. “Thank you, you do too.” And they both sat there for a moment or two like this lost in their thoughts. When she raised her head she saw again that strange sad look but this time in his eyes. “Will you tell me what worries you?” she asked very slowly and soft.

“Do you remember High School?” That was all he said. High School? Of course she remembered High School; she was a popular Cheerleader back then and she was grateful to be one because she paid college through a Cheerleader scholarship. She didn’t know something about her husband’s time at High School, he always avoided the topic and never spoke about it, not even when they first met in College. So what makes him think about High School right now and why does it sadden him that much? She answered with a short “Yes, of course” and waited for him to carry on.

He took his arm from her shoulder and folded his hands in his lap. “Right now, me too.” She waited. “I saw a guy tonight who used to be with me at High School. He was the one working at the cloak room.” She remembered the man; a tired grumpy unhappy looking man who seemed to have more than just that one job. She questioned herself what could have happened between her husband and that man back then. He went on “I never told you something about my High School time, did I?” –“No, as far as I can remember, you always avoided that topic.” It was quiet for another moment and then he said “High School was hell on earth for me. You can’t imagine what I went through back then. I was a geeky freak; everybody made fun out of me and did ugly things to me. It was the worst I’ve ever seen. And that man from the cloak room was one of my meanest enemies. He was our quarterback; the most popular guy at our High School. Till today I don’t know what his problem was but I was a shield for everything that went wrong in his life. I was laughed at or beaten up, glued to the toilet and much more. He was great while I was smaller than an ant. And tonight, I saw him, just like I was back then.” Here he paused. His wife sitting next to him had a tear in her eye, laid her head against his shoulder and rubbed his back. She couldn’t believe that this though great successful man beside her used to be a shy boy who acted as shield for other people’s emotions. He went on “Back then I used to think that one day, when I see him again, then it’ll be my turn to laugh at him, that he will be for once the smaller one. But seeing him the way he was tonight… I hadn’t had the feeling to laugh or whatever, I just felt pity and sorry for him. I don’t know what had happened to him but… I don’t know.” He stopped. She knew that all the memories from that time came up and that he couldn’t continue. She left him to think, held him in her arms. After some minutes he stood up. “You know, I forgave him and all the others long time ago. I thought that I will never ever see one of them again in my life. It was a bit of a shock seeing that once so popular man there taking my coat and calling me ‘sir’. I think I need to get over it; not everyone has the chance to be popular for a lifetime. I’m glad how I ended up and grateful for having you by my side. I should have told you my High School story way earlier, but I couldn’t. I tried to forget it and close the wounds. But now, once I remembered… yes, it did hurt, but I feel a bit more released.” He smiled and she knew that the worst was over. She smiled back and went to him to hug him.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

The Man with the Hat

I never felt like this before. I did not even think that a hat could drive me nuts and this for real now. You can’t imagine in which difficulties I found myself because of your hat. Yes, YOUR hat. The strange thing is that I can’t figure out which way I’m heading right now. I’m, somehow, confused and feel as if I’m turning in a circle and this all because of you.

I tell myself and my friends that I just want to get to know you because I think that you are so cool and amazing in your very own way. Actually that’s really true; I want to know you and be friends with you because you seem to me to be so interesting and someone with whom I can discuss and have intelligent conversations. It’s all true, but… there seems to be something else too. Why does, every time I only think I spotted you, my heart skips a beat? Why do I turn red like a tomato and suddenly feel so hot when I see a hat like yours? Or why does an old car suddenly makes me want to follow it or gets me so excited that I can’t sit still any longer? Why?

It’s a very strange feeling. I know that I’m not in love, that is for sure, but I always feel as if I have a zillion of butterflies in my tummy as soon as I see you or remember myself of you. Somehow you are exactly what I feel attracted to although you are 7 years older than me and that should, in my age definitely, be a barricade. You are a man, a real adult ‘I-can-do-whatever-I-want-to’-man and I’m not yet ready to be a woman; a girl experimenting with the fact of being an adult, a woman. You came into my life by complete coincidence or perhaps destiny; a crossroad where you drove past my car, you looked to me and I looked to you, same as my friend sitting beside me. From that very moment on I wanted to get to know you. I was fascinated and so curious that I had to find you once again and I did. And again you looked to us and we to you and in your face someone could see your brain working, trying to find out if we were the same girls you saw right now but at another crossroad.

I actually thought that you were taller and younger, but this doesn’t even matter now. 4 days in a row where I saw you passing me by, standing close to me, being far away or just sitting somewhere nearby and you took your photographs. I felt your presence with every hair on my body because I had such crazy Goosebumps that I knew you were close although I couldn’t see you. It’s weird. But at the same time such a good feeling. I don’t want to fall in love because you are so much older than me, you smoke and drink and perhaps take other stuff. Because you are as short as I am (at least it seems to me) and have long dark blonde hair and blue-grey-green eyes and 2 tattoos and 2 piercings. Because you are so good-looking and wear things other guys wouldn’t dare to wear and drive such an old stylish car nobody else drives. Because you do what you want and are a gentleman and are so charming and cute. Because you are an artist (a real good one) and see the beauty in everything and know how to skate and to beat box. No! I’m not even supposed to think about it. On top of this is that I’m for sure not what you’re looking for, I just can’t be what you want to have as girlfriend, or as fiancée or as future wife. No! You need someone who is more like you instead of someone like me who wants someone like you. You are old enough to have at least one child and a wife, so you shouldn’t bother with me, the puppy.

And still, since I first saw you my goal is it to get to know you and be friends with you. I want to know how you got to be so much into the art and if “Das Parfum” from P. Süsskind is your favorite book just because your last name is the name of the protagonist? Those and many other questions I would like to ask you and have some answers. But for now, I just need to wait till I see you again.

<3 .ladybird