We said a bye to each other through an email. I didn’t trust him – well, I didn’t because he was a liar. I might believe in everything you say until it starts not making sense. Because I am a woman, so I remember details. All details. Your bday, your breakfast, your dreams, your family problems, your favorite song or if you drink tea with sugar.
So that’s how it ended, and I forgot, not too hearth-broken, not too upset, with no regrets.
The last day in Chicago, I pulled over; waiting for a friend to come back since she forgot her camera in a gift bag with a tiny Kafka book. The last one in my collection – I mean: Kafka collection. And here he is, passing by on a blue bike, in a red outfit – I can see him in a rear-view mirror. My heart was pumping so fast - maybe it was because I didn’t want him to see me, maybe because a thought crossed my mind to open the door when he gets next to me and knock him on his knees, kick him and say here, you bitch. Anyway, no… ehm, yes, anyway, I just looked out of the window and saw a little body dressed in red, shrinking into an unclear picture.
Then I realize I stopped missing him. Not that red dot, not j. and his dog, not… I do not miss a boy that I believed was perfect for me, as I was for him. I still think of him sometimes, of course.
Pictures are so amazing! I have never seen you so sexy. Are you in love? Updates! She emails, and it makes me think: am I? Am I in love? Is that why?
Why I don’t miss you? Why I am not heartbroken? Why nothing makes sense and I am so comfortably lost in sigma algebras and extended real lines?
I am thinking of all my déjà-vu-s. The boys that were like one. And then the boys I felt right about. Like this one.
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