“We expect more from others because we would be willing to do that much.”
I started thinking how differently I had imagined this summer to be. How many things I had planned and organized and how abruptly all those plans had changed. There, during my finals in June, I had believed once more that we were back again to where we started, and that because of him I had to bring back on the surface the cruel part of myself in order to endure what I was going to face: another lonely summer, along with my music and my books, my constant “partners in crime” ever since I was very young. And of course my friends. Although at this particular moment, I didn’t want to think of them because I knew, with every little detail, what they were going to tell me, once they found out about my new, yet old, relationship status. Jim would tell me that I had said and done enough about that matter, and that I should not waste the best years of my life on someone who failed to appreciate even the half of what I’d given to him! My friend would also advise me to go on with my life far away from him, since that would be a much better life. On the other hand, Mandy would say that she was taken by surprise once more and that I was too kind and gentle for not being able to see how that immature and egocentric person simply cared about having fun, and not about the needs and feelings of the people around him. She wouldn’t use all those ass-something and douche-like words, like Jim would, but her judging look would say more than what her mouth would reveal.
And that’s, more or less, how things turned out with my best friends, after the end of the finals and our return to the nightlife of the city, which was signified by a ten-hour meet-up for coffee, dinner and a handful of cocktails later on, with Jim on one side reasoning and cursing, and Mandy on the other expressing her sympathy, yet her displeasure, that things had come back to the same denominator.
I had so naturally accepted the new, yet old, situation, that I didn’t even bother to feel sad, cry or try to change the reality I was living in. By now, I was used to the abandonment and the immaturity of that person, that I decided not to spend my precious time, not even a single minute of it on… That might be the last peaceful and carefree summer, since the next year would find me juggling with my master thesis, my job and my dream vacation to Crete. This was in fact the reason why I had carefully put all of those recent events away in a tiny box, in the darkest corner of my mind, and I went for a few days to relax to my family’s beach house. If only I’d known at the time… His return was so fast as his latest disappearance. I was taken so much by surprise that I couldn’t possibly think of a single reason that had led him back to me. All I could think was that he was definitely a clinical case! I mean, how much complexity could a person contain in his character? And how much more complexity could I deal with?
I had started thinking whether everything he had said and done were simply samples of his insecurity. Quite recently though, I had come to the conclusion that I was the insecure one, since, only few months away from my twenty-second birthday, I had a handful of one-night-stands to recall and only one serious relationship. If I could actually claim that what I had with him was indeed a relationship. Of course the problem was that I couldn’t just throw away four years of our lives, neither could start flirting as I used in the past. It was just like I had forgotten the whole game of flirtation and love. My relationships and my life in general had turned me into such a drama queen that I was feeling way older than I really was. But I knew that life was very short so I didn’t want to let it pass right through me. Drama, empty words and no actions were not my cup of tea. I wanted to do something more with my life, become someone better than the average. I wanted to achieve greatness! But how could I do so, when my partner was holding me back instead of pushing me to overcome my limits?
So here I was now, sitting in my room after an exhausting and extremely hot day at work, listening to my close friend Effie, talking about the prospects of one more reunion with him, and telling myself like a mantra a few lines of Divine Comedy’s introduction. So were to me occasion of good hope, the variegated skin of that wild beast.
That was our last chance to achieve something more than what we already had. Our last chance for something similar to what Elisabeth and Mr. Darcy, Eleanor and Edward, and all those classic characters had lived. I could not give any more excuses to him! It may sound romantic and childish, but I wanted as well my life’s Dante, who would write for his Beatrice a divine comedy. Or at least, a divine tragedy!
© Victoria Moschou. All Rights Reserved 2016-2017.