In your arms

April 15, 2023

Here we are with a new chapter!Thank you everyone and see you Friday. PS. I think we are close to the flames... maybe 😉

April 15, 2023

It has been ten days since I last saw Carina, and the emotions stirring inside me are confusing. We talked often, we could not see each other only because our work shifts did not match, also because she had to make up hours after being in Italy for a while. Yet I missed her, I miss her. That shouldn't be the case, should it? My life apparently moves on as usual. At work we regained a harmony that hadn't been there for a long time, thanks to Luke's temporary suspension; we spent Easter together, with my friends' families, as always, and it was a beautiful time. In my spare time I continue to do all the things I like, I go running, I go out with Andy and Vic, the other day we even went to a bakery opening and then laughed like crazy at the idea of feeling a little old. We had two group outings at the pub, I came out of there both nights with a girl, not the same one, who I had sex with. This week I even had a video call with my brother, whom I hadn't heard from in a long time. This is to say that things are not only progressing regularly, but also with a certain serenity and positivity. So why did I do nothing but think about how much I missed Carina? Why could I never fully enjoy the events? Why did I keep turning around expecting to find her next to me, when she was obviously not there?

Generally speaking, the "Carina theme" has died down a bit in the station: no one dares to ask too many questions, because my overreaction probably gave away more than I would have liked. She was invited to spend Easter with us anyway, but she declined, either because she found it inappropriate, being afraid of running into Luke, or because she would have had shift after shift anyway and it was perfectly fine for her to stay home and rest half a day. 

Today, however, is finally the day we get to see each other and I have butterflies in my stomach. I had to push a bit to be able to agree on this "date," and when the word "date" escaped me over the phone, Carina was suffering from selective mutism, except to then send me a barrage of messages saying that it wasn't a real date, that I shouldn't get my hopes up, that she, that I, that blah blah blah.

The time and place of the meeting are a bit atypical perhaps, but it's the best we could agree on. I get off the thankfully relatively quiet night shift and join her at her home, where we will have breakfast together and then she will start her shift for 12 p.m. 

I brought with me a bouquet of wildflowers that I picked up on the way here, but now it seems like a very stupid idea. I shift my weight from one leg to the other not really knowing what to do, but Carina's voice from inside the house reels me in.

C < Maya is open! Come in!!> she shouts. I take a deep breath and go inside. 

The house smells so good, clean and... Carina: I wouldn't know how else to describe it. There is delicate, Brazilian music in the background, belonging to a period of Carina's life I know nothing about, but still making her damn sexy in my eyes, as she moves around the kitchen hips to the beat.

Okay.
Maybe I shouldn't show up at a friend's house, with a bouquet of flowers and think she's sexy.

Maybe it's just not right. 

C < hey! Are you there?> she exclaims, turning her face slightly toward me. 

M < yes, hello! Sorry!> I exclaim awkwardly, taking a few steps toward her. I hold the bouquet of flowers as gracefully as I hold the fire hydrant during work and roll my eyes at myself: I want to be romantic, but my soul is more like a mason than a poet. 

M < where do I put them?> I ask, dying of discomfort internally: if this were a sitcom now they'd bring out signs screaming "cringe." Instead, Carina turns around, slightly waving her posthumously gathered hair, and smiles at me, happy.