From never to now

‘Mama,’ – she whispers silently.

‘Yes, my love,’ – I whisper back.

‘What if you and London boy get married?’

(Can this girl read my mind?!)

We are both silent for a moment.

‘That would be very nice, don’t you think?’ – I ask her.

More silence.

‘But don’t worry. London boy will never marry me. He will never ever marry anybody.’

The guy has told me this from the start. And we are talking here about almost 5 years of me hearing this. He’ll never marry. He’ll never have a girlfriend. He’ll never have another relationship.

And yet… he’d come to visit me. At last!

I remember all the times he said he would, I know exactly where I was every time he said it: walking down the street, waiting at the doctor’s, coming home after a walk, lying next to him. It just never happened.

But then one day I found myself hanging at the airport, checking the arrivals screen. I was looking at the faces of passersby, searching for the one. And boy, was I happy to see him. He was impossible to miss! Amongst the crowds of men and women, wrapped up in scarves and coats, all dressed in dark, he was strolling in the brightest of reds, his jumper unzipped, his headphones on. I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t expect anything less than this from London boy. Sure, as we went outside to look for a taxi he quickly put on his winter coat (it was a cold night at the end of March), but the pieces of red kept peeking through, brightening the dark night.

He didn’t stay long here. Mind you, had he stayed 2 months, I’d probably be saying the same. However, for me – it was an event of the century.

Moments are stuck in my head, and I’m sure I will cherish them for long: climbing the steep hill and having my legs shake afterwards; walking side by side, exploring the city; grabbing lunch at a burrito bar; chatting about life; cooking and savoring; holding on to each other for the airport goodbye.

And another thing I won’t forget – London boy reading a bedtime story for my daughter. I asked. He agreed. Except instead of an English book he chose to read the language he did not know. Me, being me, had no patience to listen to the mispronounced words. I kept running from the bathroom and telling him how to say words right. My daughter kept telling me to go back to the bathroom and leave them alone. They were having the best of times with giggles and chuckles, roars and shrieks of laughter.

They didn’t get an awful amount of time to spend together. But when they did, the time was awesome.

Me? I was left with ‘I’ll see you in the summer’. And for the time being that’s enough.

Beauty in the unknown

‘How’s your love life?’ – a friend asked me.

‘What is that?’ – I asked back with a straight face.

If that means loneliness and emptiness and a strong attraction to nobody, then it’s going really great!

Does it bother me, though? Not really. I think this is what ‘growing up’ means. I don’t have a man in my life, but I have my daughter. And I love her to infinity and back infinite times. So why would I worry about something that I don’t have when I have the most and the best?

These are the good old truths that sometimes get forgotten. And I am not sure the book I just finished reading had something to do with me growing up. I won’t mention the name of it (if it’s meant to be, you will find out for yourself), I’ll just say it was about time beings. Mountains, waves, people – we are all time beings. All different, all same.

I like order. I like knowing. I like to be ready. Give me the answer so I can plan my moves. Tell me you love me, so I know my feelings don’t go unanswered.

And that’s the tricky part. Knowing makes it real. Knowing does not allow other possibilities. Knowing gives only one truth.

Not knowing, on the other hand, gives an infinity of possibilities. Not only yes or no, but literally anything in between. And why did I always think it was so terrible not to have the answer? Why was I always happiest with only one truth?

The world is beautiful and it’s full of the  unknown. Not knowing something means that it can be a ‘million of anythings’. Do I like having only one choice? No. If it’s one, it’s not even a choice, it’s a given. I want to believe that good can be bad, but it can also be better. I want to think that bad can be the best in a parallel universe. I wanna have a rainbow of possibilities.

Is there a man that loves me? Yes. No. Maybe. Will I always be single? For sure. Never. For a little while longer.

The beauty of not knowing is life. Knowing, not knowing – all different, all same.