| Here
I am, standing in front of myself. Looking
at the mirror. Obviously, nothing has changed.
I am still the same 27-year-old girl with
"red hair and huge green eyes"
-- as they use to describe me. What am I
now? Still warm and excited by her touch,
still naked as she left me in the wet bed,
afraid of what I have done, of what will
happen.
It happened suddenly.
There I was, standing in front of my favorite
bookstore window looking at the new books.
Actually I was waiting for Marko. In the
four years that we have been together, he's
never arrived on time. I hate to be late,
moreover I prefer to arrive early and feel
like a host. Suddenly, in the bookstore
window glass somebody passes, very handsome,
very interesting. There was something in
the slow and gracious walking, so I had
to turn and see. I wasn't sure of the person's
gender.
After a few slow steps
the person stopped, turned to me and asked
the time. When I heard the voice, when I
saw the lips, big and red like they had
been kissed and eaten moments before, I
knew. It was my first girlfriend. It was
something in her, something so strange,
so wonderful, maybe the lack of gender.
I got so confused, thoughts
were running quickly: "Will I see her
ever again. I have to talk with her. Just
talk. So beautiful. So gentle." With
trembling hands I opened my bag and looked
for my watch, which I never have on my wrist.
I barely found it. "Ten past six."
My voice was unsure, broken after a long
silence. She smiled with her big and beautiful
lips. "Thanks." And she just turned
and entered the bookstore. I was alone again.
The past moments confused me. In the distance
I recognized Marko's walk. When he arrived
I spontaneously got cold and cruel; every
sentence he said and every move he made
annoyed me. After a short drink, I made
an excuse and ran home, to be alone. I couldn't
stop thinking about her. I believed that
if I thought about her so madly, maybe she
would think of me too. Maybe I could in
some mysterious way cause her to meet me
again.
I don't know if it was
her or me. But a few days ago we met again
at the exhibition of a common friend, Boris,
as I find out later. When Marko and I entered
the Students' Cultural Center, I got nervous.
Not nervous in the usual way as |
 |
I
am when I go out, this was different. Five
minutes later, when I saw her standing in
front of an installation taken by her thoughts,
I knew the reason for my nervousness. My
face blushed, but I was lucky because the
light was soft.
"You have to come
to my party after the exhibition. It's in
Buda cafe", Boris told us. As I knew
that Marko disliked Boris because he was
an artist and gay (which is in Marko's head
always connected), I was pretty sure that
he didn't want to go to the party. So I
just had to get rid of Marko, and hope that
she would be at the afterparty too. It wasn't
easy to get away from Marko, because I had
avoided him since that day in front of the
bookstore. And he got angry, but I didn't
care, I really didn't care anymore. He left
before the exhibition was over.
I was finally alone,
and I could look at the installation in
peace, and pay attention to her. When I
looked for her, she and Boris were standing
together looking at me, obviously talking
about me. He invited me to come with the
move of a hand. I moved close to them very
slowly. My knees were trembling. My heart
was pounding. "You finally got rid
of your rude boyfriend. I want to introduce
you to Marija. She is a very good friend
of mine." Finally I saw those lips
again, and they suddenly said: "We
have already met, do you remember?"
She looked at me with her dark eyes and
held out her hand. "Yes." I took
her hand and felt very long fingers, a warm
hand. Hot hands. Mine are always cold.
At the afterparty we
remained together. We talked and danced.
And she told me that she is a lesbian. That
she finished a long-term relationship a
few months ago. Nothing else. For the whole
evening she didn't make any move I could
recognize as a pass at me. I was waiting.
But nothing happened, that evening. At the
end we exchanged telephone numbers.
Then two terrible days
passed. Marko wanted desperately to be with
me. I didn't want to see him. She didn't
call. I was sick with desire. I was desperate.
I didn't know if I should call first. What
to say, how to make a move. I would pick
up the telephone to call her, then put it
down. I did that a million times. Then,
the third day she ended my agony. She called
me and she came over.
And here am I, after
a long night spent with her, bathing in
her kisses, melting in her touch, having
more climaxes than I have ever had before.
So spontaneous. So gentle. So wonderful.
Girl from my dreams. Still warm and excited
by her touch. I am happy, I am different.
But I am still the same person, am I, Mirror?
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