Three weeks have passed since my dinner with L…as expected, I hadn’t heard anything from her. I also didn’t try to contact her. Slowly I tried to forget her, let anything that I might have felt for her go. I tried to move on, going back to my routines, my work, losing myself in the details of living my everyday life, let time pass and do its eroding work.
But then yesterday I received a SMS from L…” Hi…How are you? I like to meet you again, if you want…Your story was hard. It made me sad, scared, angry. But it was true.”
I sent her back a message, that I like to see her again too. I have also decided that I want to give her the story that I have written, my story. So she can understand, if she wants to read it, if she cares to. I take my pen and write on a note “Dear L...you awoke in me the inspiration to write this. After I met you, I was able to write, or better, tell you this story. Once that happened, the story started telling itself to me, revealing itself. So in a sense you are the reason it exists. You made it possible and for that I am happy and grateful.”
YOU ARE READING
Not yet fifty and single again - J
ContoA man finding his way in a story about love, violence, loss and murder. Descriptive, funny, sad, disturbing and frightening yet revealing thoughts many may recognize.
