Ilinca hasn’t come yet.
.
I need to get ready for the party. It’s Marina’s birthday. I am going to wear one of her tight black dresses. It’s also impossibly short, but the girls tell me I look good in it.
We are expecting around ten people, law students from Marina’s college.
.
It was late. The subway was almost empty. There was only one couple, sitting in front of me, a little to the right. I tried very hard not to look at them, but the more I tried, the more my eyes would go in their direction.
They were quiet and beautiful. The boy was squeezing her hand in his, and she had her head on his shoulder. They were not looking at each other, but I could feel, from the distance, that they lived in their own space, a space populated only by their love, inaccessible from outside.
They were quiet, and their facial expressions seemed frozen in a permanent smile. People are rarely smiling in this mournful town. People here fight to survive, to go through the day, to push other people out of their way. But these two, they didn’t need to push anybody because they had a whole world that they owned.
That is what I want. That is it: the happiness of him calmly holding my hand, on the subway.
.
I have a horrible headache this morning. Actually, it’s almost noon already. I woke up late because I went to sleep late. The guests only left at three in the morning. Dan had to leave soon after midnight, but I couldn’t go to sleep while everyone else was still there. I just sat on the bed, back against the cold wall, and covered myself with the blankets. Marina was still dancing with George, hanging on his neck, while Ilinca was sulking on the balcony, smoking and drinking. I never saw her without a drink in her hand all night. She likes George. I am sure, though, that Marina was just using him to make Andru jealous.
I should get out of bed to make coffee now. I think Marina has a test or something today. She needs to wake up.
I don’t know what happened between Marina and Andru, though. They seemed to be fine earlier, before the party. Their relationship is original, let’s say. They seem to connect in hate and hurt rather than in love. They always find ways to humiliate each other. Marina says that there is love, and there also is a demonic presence between them. Their love is possessed and in dire need of an exorcism. But the church does not do those anymore, does it?
I do not have any experience, so who am I to say anything? Still, love is supposed to enlighten us, to make us better, more deserving, right? Why does it sometimes seem to only wake the demons? These people are not ready for love. They don’t deserve it.
I don’t know why I am thinking about that so much when I have my own little story to think about. Yes, I do. I was a movie star last night. At least in Dan’s eyes. At least, that’s what he said to me. The girls did put a lot of effort into my makeup and hair. I felt like an actress, in her stage costume, with her acting mask on. The usual stiff and self-aware Ana was gone for the night, and I was free to be someone else. Maybe someone more like Marina. That’s all I ever wanted. To be in love with myself. To seem in love with myself. To think that I was smart and beautiful, and everybody loves me. The magic worked for a few hours.
When Dan showed up, I had already sipped my social awkwardness out with two glasses of vermouth. Ilinca had told me that her colleague George had a brother, one year older, an engineering student. He is nothing like George, though. He was wearing a grey corduroy jacket with a blue-white shirt and perfectly ironed, dark-wash jeans while all the other boys had graphic tees on and dirty, faded jeans. He looked directly at me from the doorway as soon as he entered, and I never felt his eyes off me for one moment, all night.
I was sitting on Marina’s bed, at the back of the room, sipping my drink, and trying to look aloof and interesting. He danced and talked only with me. When he was leaving, he pulled my hand and led me outside, in front of the building. It was chilly, and the trees were whispering mysteries to everyone who would listen. There was no gravity. Only his hand pulled me close to the ground. We kissed. With my head on his chest and his arms around me, my skin and my bones turned transparent and light, and even his hold could no longer keep me on the ground. I could understand the language of the leaves, and I could see through everything.
He is perfect. It must be him.
.
Thinking about Dan. Missing him. Trying to forget about him.
I wished I didn’t have to spend this winter vacation at my mother’s. But I had promised her. It’s also good to get some distance from Dan to think about us. I wonder if he is going to write to me as he promised. I wonder if this separation is going to drive me mad. Loneliness is a place for reflection, and too much reflection makes home for enormous sadness.
I have many doubts about Dan, and I don’t know what to do. I am thinking too much about him, blowing it all up bigger than life in my mind. I can’t stop thinking of him, though. He makes the world beam.
In the meantime, I am trying to enjoy being here just with Mama. I have no responsibilities, so I can relax fully, watching sitcoms and eating apple pie.
It always feels cold, though, in this apartment. How is it possible that it never gets heated enough? We keep the gas stove on all day and the space heaters on full blast. It’s the walls that are not insulated and the too thin, cheap carpets. I need to help Mama redecorate: some colorful curtains, maybe new color on these walls that have never been painted since she moved in, not long after I was born. I don’t think there is even one piece of furniture that changed place since I was a child. Not that there is much furniture at all. Even the little there is looks disgustingly old and brittle. I don’t think she has ever lived here. Not really.
.
Yesterday, Dan came to pick me up from the train station. I had missed him so much. I could go through any torture, endure any amount of pain, if at the end of it, the path would take me to the place where he would be waiting.
It was a beautiful evening. After leaving my luggage at the dorm, we went out for a walk. We reached Union Square, where we sat on a bench, keeping each other warm. There weren’t many people around. The streetlights turned on when we started to kiss.
It was strange, though, that a few times, I caught myself thinking how I could describe in my journal exactly the way that moment felt. It was a fleeting thought because I don’t need to think so much when I’m in his arms. Love is so good to me. I can’t stop smiling.
.
We made love last night. It was beautiful. We had the room to ourselves for the entire weekend, and we spent three days together, like an old married couple. It was odd in a way. All the time, I felt like I was not completely there. I felt double, watching everything from the corner of the room, looking at myself with a critical eye. I was not bad.
.
Something strange happened today. I don’t think I mentioned Ra before. I met him three weeks ago, on the subway, on my way home from school. It was unusual. I had found a seat and happily got my book out to read. I was reading Marin Sorescu’s Iona. Lost in trying to decipher some metaphors and trying hard not to laugh out loud, I didn’t know when he came in and stood right in front of me, holding onto the high bars (the ones that I never can reach without stretching all my bones). I lifted my eyes from the book when I realized that he was obstructing my light. He didn’t look friendly, with his unshaved face and black coat, so I didn’t say a thing.
“That is a very good book,” he said instead. “You’re too young to understand it.”
I told him that at my age, I am not too young for any book. I thought he was thirty or something. His hair is almost entirely grey, but he’s actually only twenty-six.
We had quite a talk that evening on the subway. I talked more. He listens well. He told me that his name is Ramon, but everyone calls him Ra. He’s an art historian (specializes in Egyptology) and a painter. He designs sets for a theatre.
I feel a connection with him. Maybe because he’s really easy to talk to. I don�
��t need to think or make myself up. I have been seeing him quite a bit since we met. He gave me tickets to the theatre. I have also been to his studio a few times. It’s a fascinating place down there, inside the dark entrails of the stage.
Anyway, today I was supposed to meet him at the Bluebell Café at noon, but I forgot about it. I was chatting with Ilinca and I lost track of time. It was already two when I remembered about it. I don’t know what made me rush to the café that late. It took me a half hour to get there, and I found him still waiting. “I needed your company,” he said. “You make me smile.”
I hope this is not getting weird. I know he has a girlfriend who is out of the country for a year on a scholarship or something of that sort. The truth is that I enjoy his company, too. I can tell him things. I wouldn’t want to lose him.
We spent the afternoon in the park, watching passers-by and fantasizing about their lives. We had decided some of them were coming from a different plane of existence and were going to a secret gathering to discuss taking over our world, and we were the only ones with the ability to tell the humans from the aliens. It was an out-of-this-world afternoon, in many ways.
.
I am alone in the room, writing under the light of a lilac-scented candle. Life is very interesting, isn’t it? It is not boring at all. Not at this moment. Not for me.
I have been to the theatre with Dan. I cried. I always cry at the theatre. The experience is overwhelming there, in the big dimly lit hall, where all sense of reality is consciously altered to allow a masterfully controlled dream state. I could spend my whole life in one of those stalls, in the theatre, as long as they keep the play going. Dan, of course, made jokes about my tears.
I am feeling so good about life right now. I love Dan so much.
After the play, we went to his place. He’s very proud of the apartment he shares with George, which is new, spacious, and has beautiful, large windows. I prefer downtown places, with cramped rooms but detailed architecture and hundreds of years of history growing wild around them.
We listened to rock ballads and kissed until my lips started bleeding. I’ve never felt so much love.
I have to say, though, that sometimes I talk to him and I feel like I’m hitting a wall. The words bounce back to me, untouched, flat, not understood. Maybe I’m just looking for flaws. I don’t know. I know that he makes me happy. He makes me sing and dance by myself in front of the mirror. I don’t need to eat, to drink, or to sleep. Thinking of him is enough to keep me alive.
.
I bought Dan a blue wool sweater for his birthday. It will look beautiful on him.
We still don’t have any plans for today, though. He doesn’t want to celebrate in any way. I don’t understand. All I hope is that we can spend a nice evening together. We spoke on the phone yesterday, but we didn’t decide anything. He has a meeting with his professor to discuss a paper he’s working on. I am waiting for him to call. I have been waiting since morning, and waiting is not my strong suit.
I have scented candles, a bottle of champagne, and a small chocolate and strawberry cake. I am going to cut into that soon if he doesn’t call. I can eat it with the girls. After all, only women know how to really appreciate a good chocolate cake.
It is already five in the afternoon, and he hasn’t called yet. I don’t understand what’s going on. I suppose he might be still in that meeting, but it’s hard to believe. Why hasn’t he called yet? I am getting anxious. I was thinking he would be here by now. Marina and Ilinca offered to leave and spend the night somewhere else, so that we have the room all to ourselves. We still have the whole night ahead of us, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to enjoy it anymore, even if he shows up. I don’t know what he did all day. He did not try to contact me at all. I’ll be the last person to wish him happy birthday.
Should I call his house and just to talk to his brother? No. He was supposed to call me. Maybe he will call. Any minute now.
God, I hate waiting! I am starting to hate Dan. Why is he putting me through this?! If he really loved me, wouldn’t he want to spend his birthday only with me? Wouldn’t he hate to be away from me on this day? I cannot understand him at all. Why would he want to hurt me like this? He knows I am here, doing nothing but waiting for him. Where could he be?
It is already seven. I am going insane. I’ll call his apartment. He’s probably not there. But maybe he has been expecting me to call him all day long.
Okay. I called. He is not at home, of course. He has been lying to me. All this time. He must be spending his birthday with somebody else. His brother told me that he was not sure about his whereabouts, but he thought he was out with friends celebrating. Of course. While I wait glued to the phone all day. He’s out, celebrating. I’m such a fool.
My perfect love story is just a fake. Nothing was true, nothing was real. He never loved me. How could he? I’m so stupid. All the times that he canceled dates, all the weekends that he spent “studying,” all the phone calls he never placed, all the invitations he turned down.
I don’t want to hate him. I cannot hate anybody. Ever. I hate myself. Only myself. This is fair. I deserve all of it. I am the stupid one. I am the crazy one who thought that this was anything more than just a fling.
I was so happy! Why did this have to happen?
Please call. Please call!
I don’t know what to do. I miss him so much. I just wanted to see his eyes. His beautiful eyes that do not want to see me.
I can’t think anymore. I feel like getting drunk and forgetting. Forever. I wished I could just go to sleep and never wake up. I don’t know who would ever miss me. I am sorry. I know I cannot do that to Mama. But this life is too hard for me. I am not equipped for this. I cannot fight anymore. What can I do? I just wanted a little love. I thought I had found it. How wrong I was! Now I see. I’m just not worthy. I feel like breaking something. I want to scream.
I need to sleep and forget. Tomorrow might be another day.
.
Dan just left. He spent the whole day with me. I am tired and happy. I want to be happy.
He tried to explain everything. After the meeting with his professor, he felt sick. He has migraines that have been bothering him for years. He was planning to come by to see me, but he went home first to rest and he slept through the night. George didn’t even notice him go in.
Why did I doubt him? He has been very tired lately. He is studying hard for these exams. It’s important that he does well in his studies. His parents didn’t go to college, and they have high expectations of the boys. Dan is very intelligent, even if he doesn’t give himself credit for it. I don’t feel good when he tells me that I am too smart for him. Am I supposed to feel good? I just feel that he is dividing us, not giving us a chance. It’s not a compliment that I am dying to hear. I’d rather be told how incredibly beautiful I am.
I was smoking at the window when he came. I was all cried out. I never heard him come in. He came quietly from behind, put his arms around my waist and his head on mine. It was a gesture I knew from other lives. My knees felt weak, but he supported my weight, kept me there standing, not uttering a word, as if transmitting a subtle vibration through all the points where our bodies met. We were both shaking.
“It is so good to finally be with you,” he said in his low, sleepy voice. “I can’t stand being separated from your skin. It’s painful. What have you done to me, you little witch?”
I slept in his arms. I dreamed no dreams.
.
This is more than I can take. Ilinca just came and told me that she has seen Dan around the park somewhere with some girl. Breathe.
Ilinca says she has never seen her before. She is blonde, not very tall, but slender and pretty, apparently. If Ilinca finds her pretty, she must be a goddamned beauty. They were holding hands, it seems, my Dan and another girl.
I am an unmovable stone. My hands do not belong to me. My legs do not exist. I am all earth, ground, and rock, as I lie down here.
&nb
sp; I need to call Ra. As soon as I come back from the dead. I am going to climb in bed now and sleep.
.
I am on the brink of an implosion. My head and all my insides are burning.
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you about this before. I know I should have. But I have such a strange relationship with Viviana. We have been together, on and off, for almost two years now.”
Two years?! Two years! He has been lying to me all the time!
“When I met you, it was after another one of our fights.”
Oh, no, they are fighting. So sad.
He put his arms around my neck and my shoulders and held me almost forcefully close to his chest. It felt good there, and I allowed myself to cry.
“I’m so sorry. I am so sorry,” he went on and on. “I never wanted to hurt you. I would rather die than hurt you. I just love you too much. I know I should have told you everything from the start, but I couldn’t overcome the terror of thinking that you might leave me. I could not stay away from you after the first moment we met. I have been dreaming about you every night. You remember that day when you gave me the scarf you were wearing? I sleep with it on my pillow to feel you close to me. I need you close. You don’t have to love me. You can hate me for what I am doing to you now, but please just let me be around you. I will just need to breathe your perfume once in a while. I cannot live without seeing your smile. Please. I never thought I would love two women like this. But I cannot help it. I need you so much. Do whatever you want to me, just don’t shut me out of your life completely. Don’t punish me like that.”
His words—they are forever iron-branded on my mind. His words are here with me, squirming inside my head and my stomach, never to be erased, regenerating from their own broken pieces. I never forget anything he tells me. All the words uttered with that mouth and probably never felt by that treacherous soul are my most precious possessions. I will take them with me everywhere I ever go.
Spell of Blindness Page 4