Sunday, 4 October 2015

In the future, in the past, going nowhere, much too fast

Perfect, clement weather. A whiff of late summer in early October (day-time high of +23C, not much short of October heat record for Warsaw of +24.5C, set on 5 October 1983). Spent most of the day outdoors, lazily or actively, yet in the great companion. Reflective mood has kept me company while I was basking in the autumn sun anyway…

Today is the sixth anniversary of my mother’s best friend’s death. 4 October in 2009 also fell on Sunday. She passed away late in the evening, thus losing a battle against cancer she had fought for months ahead of the sad day. Back in the early years of blogging I followed the principle to keep the private stuff away from the PES. I do not regret abiding by the self-imposed rules at that time, yet regret not putting in words my feelings at that time and confining only to succinct coverage of the funeral. Our families used to be friends over the period of my childhood and teenage years. Ciocia Magda used to be one of my nearest and dearest, closer and more trusted than most relatives. Piece of life, hundreds of memories turned into ashes, yet alive as reminiscences of her survivors.

Today also falls the third anniversary of most crucial conversations I had with three people which three days later were compiled into the timeless Guardian Angel conversation, the post on PES I most frequently revert to. With hindsight, as three years passed by, I am immensely grateful to myself for picking up courage to face up to all the bitter feelings overwhelming me at that moment. Freeing the thoughts, putting them into order, confronting them with I had been told by wiser fellows sobering me up have helped reach the turning point in breaking free from that hapless affection.

Getting over that miserable infatuation took me good six months. For the last year of working at the Employer’s, my professional relationship with Her was correct. While seeing Her for the last time on 31 July 2014, on my last day of work, I did not resent Her for what we had been through. Yet She was the only person deliberately I cut off. I have met or spoken to all my immediate co-workers; all, except Her. Oddly enough though before I had been in much closer relationships with girls / women than in that dead-end something I would not call a relationship, I still feel She was a piece of my life. She has not left a wound, yet a scar remains.

The Soulmate (a work-mate at the Employer’s today a friend) while we met last month told me She had probably broken up with that guy. “A pity, She will turn 32 soon, She will find it only harder to find a decent boyfriend, this is not the state of affairs I would wish on Her”, I replied. I sincerely wish Her all the best, yet I felt a twitch of twofold nature: I felt this could be chance to start over and to be honest with you, I smirked at thought She got the well-deserved punishment (for what?). I was curious whether Soulmate mentioned this to chin me up (I am not the only one who has it uphill with the opposite sex) or to gently hint starting over. Two weeks later I outspokenly told the Soulmate I actually had not been indifferent to the news she had passed to me, yet…

Let’s face the truth. Lighting never strikes in the same place twice, as the saying goes. You could argue, we are both three years older, more mature, wiser, our lives have moved on, we have experienced more. We are both three years older, but She still is four years older than me. We have no common source of income, I earn more than twice as much as in 2012 and for some reason She and her ex-boyfriend are no longer together – if anyone thinks these developments make a fundamental difference – shame on you! We could forget who hurt who in the past and discover each other as if we just met, but we would not erase what set us apart from each other. I have my pride. Being second-best does not make sense!

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