Κι αν ρωτήσεις πώς περνάω … (And if you ask me how I am doing
θα σου πω δυο ψέματα I will tell you two lies
ένα πως δε σ' αγαπάω One that I do not love you
κι ένα πως σε ξέχασα (*) And the other that I’ve forgotten
you)…
(*) Dyo
Psemata (δυο ψέματα): Antonis Remos
- Do
you still remember?
- Of course
I do. Some things just cannot be erased from our memories, can they?
- I
guess not.
- And
those words were so true.
-
Against my will. I’m so sorry.
- What
for?
He looked at me as if to say the most important and
revealing thing in his life, but said nothing. That was the opportunity of a
lifetime and if missed there would never be another one. He lowered his eyes.
I shook my head, frustrated. Feeling completely
distressed I walked off to the seashore. I needed some “me-time” and to breath some fresh air freely and all by myself.
I felt too small facing the immense and menacing
vastness of the ocean. The conflict in my mind was as scary as was everything
around me. I was not sure if I was feeling anger or the urge to hug him and ended
everything that separated us from each other, but that absence of positive
attitude made me refrain from doing anything, so I decided I should not keep
false expectations. Maybe that story had gone too far and ended after all, in
spite of my poorly nourished hope.
I closed my eyes and inhaled the saline and iodate air
of the ocean roaring in front of me. That filled my lungs and my spirit with such
a good sensation, I could almost go back to my past and bring good memories to
feed my aching soul.
I acknowledged that being alive was reason enough to
be grateful regardless of all the things I had gone through. I had my gorgeous daughter
and she was even more precious to me than my own life. I realized I had sowed quite
a good amount of profitable seeds and I should be happy with what I had reaped.
I took another deep breath and turned around. It was
time to go back and take care of my own life…
***
The night was nice and fresh. The door to the balcony
was open so to allow the breeze to blow through the house. I sat at the piano
and started singing the same song that moved me so much. That time I was
redeemed. That sorrow that filled my soul was an old comrade, but did not have
the same effect on me anymore. I could look at it from a distance and move forward,
although the scar would still be there to remind me of my past.
She sat by my
side and followed me on the harmony and vocals.
…” They
say that love can move a mountain
They say love can break your heart
They say love can make you forget
Things that happened in the past
For I've tasted your love and
I
need to taste some more
So
wave goodbye to heaven for me
I've
thrown it all away
Just
to spend one more night with you”…
(*)
(*) One more night with
you: Ged McMahon
-
This is quite a sad thing, isn’t it?
- It
is indeed. But I don’t want to complain. It’s not fair.
- She lay her head on my shoulder, while I was
touching the keyboard so lightly it felt like a respectful caress. I sensed the
anguish coming up to my throat and I could not sing or talk anymore. Two tears
rolled down my face while my body shuddered as if convulsing.
She embraced me and, with her head in my chest, wept
with me in the centre of the living room which seemed as immense as the ocean
outside.
***
A gentle breeze was blowing from the sea, bringing
that familiar air into my nostrils. It was early spring and I felt lazy in the
comfort of the deck chair. I stretched my legs and closed my eyes. The
afternoon sun was shining bright, warm enough to be enjoyed at its full. I felt
like photosynthesising. My baby daughter was sleeping soundly in the pushchair
at my side, duly sheltered from the sun and the wind.
It seemed a dark cloud covered the sun for a moment. I
opened my eyes and noticed I there was a
silhouette of a man between me and the sun.
- I’m
sorry.
-
What?
- I
didn’t want to disturb, but the baby woke up and was a little uneasy so I
thought it would be a good idea to check if she was OK. It seemed to me that
you’ve fallen asleep. Do you want me to bring you anything?
The baby was just looking at me with her big green
eyes, but without any sound. I must have fallen asleep for a while and did not
hear her waking up, which was not usual. Either I was very tired or too relaxed
not to notice something like that.
- Ah…
no, thanks. I’m alright.
I got up and looked for the baby water bottle in the
backpack. The water was warm, for being exposed to the direct sun.
-
Thinking better, I will need a bottle of fresh water, please. This is beyond
the acceptable temperature.
-
I’ll ask the waitress to bring one. Would you like a cup of coffee too?
- Good
idea. I guess I’ll need one. Thanks.
I wondered the reason why he was so nice to me, beyond
what was expected by a normal customer. It was pleasant, of course, but I was
not used to that kind of things.
The waitress brought the water and two cups of coffee
and laid them down on the table. I looked at her, astounded, but I soon
realized why so. The manager came and sat with me, showing some assumed familiarity
and said.
- I
hope I’m not being too pushy if I sit here with you for a while.
- Of
course not. Feel at ease.
- I
really love this time of the day. It’s so calm and peaceful and I simply love
this light and the colours. It feels like the world stops turning for a moment
just so we can savour a strong and aromatic coffee.
I looked at him overwhelmed not only by the light
poetry of what he said, but also by the way he expressed himself so freely, fluently
and confidently.
He smiled.
-
What? Did I say anything wrong?
- No.
Not really. On the contrary. It was very well said.
- So?
- I
was not expecting it from you… just that…
He pretended not to feel amused by having me surprised
and sipped his coffee, very calmly and looking at the sea lazily stretching its
arms out over the white and fine sand. I pretended to be checking the girl but
noticed he laughed quietly.
- May
I ask you a question?
He laughed.
- You
can, but I might not answer.
Wise guy. He was using my speech.
- Why
do you treat me like that?
-
Like what?
-
Being so kind and showing this gentle familiarity without being pushy or too intimate.
I am just a customer.
-
Perhaps not. I’m a man used to living alone and I can make out a similar fellow
when I see one. You’re always here alone with your baby girl but never among
friends. Don’t you feel lonely?
- Not
really. I guess I have always been like this, introverted and busy with my own
things instead of being among lots of people.
- I
understand. Don’t you miss being with someone?
I ran away from the question.
- Oh.
I have someone and she is adorable.
He chuckled.
-
Well, I do. Although I have always been a man of short-time affairs, I miss
being with someone sometimes.
-
Funny. We have never talked about this before.
- I
know. It’s a proof of some trust isn’t it?
- I
believe so. And would you tell me why have you only had short-term affairs?
- I
think I take too long to have faith in people. I’ve been through some
situations and lost confidence and trust in most…
The sentence was left unfinished leaving space for
imagination and questioning.
- I
think I’m also like that. We are so similar.
- I
see. What a pair!
He raised the cup and said, smiling:
- A
toast to the loners!
- A
toast to the loners!
I had not noticed before that there was music playing
from the loudspeakers on top of the porch. The song was an old one which was
very familiar to me. I felt like singing the chorus.
Κι αν ρωτήσεις πώς περνάω (Ki an ro̱tí̱seis pó̱s pernáo̱) (And if you ask me how I am doing
θα σου πω δυο ψέματα (ha sou po̱ dyo psémata) I will tell you two lies
ένα πως δε σ' αγαπάω (éna po̱s de s ' agapáo̱) One that I do not love you
κι ένα πως σε ξέχασα (*) (ki éna po̱s se xéchasa) And the other that I’ve forgotten you)
(**)
Dyo Psemata (δυο ψέματα): Antonis Remos
- Do
you know this song?
- I
surely do but I’d never expect to hear it right here. It’s an old Greek song…
- Do
you know the meaning of the lyrics?
- As
a matter of fact, I do. It’s such a sad song, in my opinion.
He looked at me, serious. Then he said something that
caught me in surprise.
- It
is, indeed. But I would never want a thing like that to happen to us.
***
