. She walked beside Him. Beside Him. Isn't that a demeaning enough word for someone who loves? She thought. She was a young, unremarkable-looking girl. Dominika. A terrible name. Who in their right mind names a child Dominika? "Dominika, from the word dominicus—devoted to God." Oh my…devoted to service, or what? She thought with irony, which was immediately reflected in the smile on her face. She raised a hand to her face, tucked her unruly hair behind her ear, and looked at Him. Him. Handsome, because what else could you call a tall, brunette with gorgeous, sapphire eyes, a radiant smile, and broad shoulders she loved to snuggle into. He wore red Hugo Boss especially for her, because he knew she loved that scent. Him. That same ironic smile appeared on her lips again. It appeared as unexpectedly as his hand on her shoulder.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, and she blinked in disbelief. It was the first time anyone had asked her that question, a question she considered a sign of intense interest in someone. And it was Mr. Beautiful who asked the question that held so much weight for her—another mocking thought in two minutes. She tipped her head back and burst into a forced laugh that embarrassed him, and his eyes automatically seemed to ask: what's going on?
"I'm thinking about you. Why are you, handsome, successful, with a wonderful sense of humor, intelligent, walking NEXT to me now? It's good that it's NEXT to me; I'm certainly aware that you didn't choose me "all." "
That's why... You're different from all those empty girls, adjusting their three layers of makeup at the sight of me. Because I have you NEXT to me, because NEXT to you terrifies me—and I like that fear—and forces me to make the effort that will allow me to, as you put it, "choose all of you." "—he replied, resting his chin on her head, inhaling the citrus scent of her hair. She pulled away from him and asked, in a tone he loved so much, because he knew she believed him, but simply wanted confirmation that touched her tough, strong-minded—in his opinion, this inner strength was slightly feigned—personality:
"Really?"
"Yes, honey. You know what? They opened a new coffee shop two streets over, and I understand we'll go there now, because you still love coffee, don't you?" His sweet smile always made her want to kiss him, hug him, and squeeze him so tightly that everyone would know he was hers.
They walked hand in hand, laughing at the anecdotes he told, and she, changing the tone of her voice, repeated them again. Passersby looked at them with the tenderness one would give to a small, innocent, and delightful child, unaware of the cruelties of this world. Yes—when they were together, the world seemed beautiful, as happy as they were.
"The tunnel…" she said quietly as they reached the dark entrance to the underground city tunnel.
"Did you say something, Dominika?" he asked.
"No, nothing..." she replied just as quietly, and grabbed his hand tightly.
"Ouch, that hurts. I know, I know, I'm so loved that you don't want to let go of me, but please, not so hard.
" "I'm sorry..."
The minute they spent in that tunnel felt like an hour. She didn't like tunnels. She was afraid of them. A ray of light from the streetlamp illuminated her face, and then he noticed that she was terribly pale.
"Is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" he asked, concerned.
"It's because of that tunnel..." she replied.
"You never said you were claustrophobic.
" "Because I don't. Let's sit on that bench, okay?
" "Of course. Will you come?" The concern in his voice brought a tender smile to her face. When they sat down on one of those uncomfortable, rusty metal city pseudo-benches, Dominika began to speak quietly.
"I don't like tunnels." I was always afraid of them. I'm a child..." Tears welled up in her eyes. "
Teddy bear, you're not a child anymore. I don't think of you that way. To me, you're very mature for your age. You're not silly like your peers, you know that.
" "I know. Let me finish. Please don't interrupt me. I'm a child. A child who has to go through a long, dark tunnel, holding their beloved teddy bear, which has been with them since birth. It was precious to them. When the child reaches the end of the tunnel, they see light... It's beautiful, even miraculous, compared to the darkness within the tunnel. A darkness that was becoming boring and seemed to tire and confine the child. Light. Once the child is outside the tunnel, they realize they don't have their beloved teddy bear. Their first reaction is to cry, desperately searching for the toy around them. It's nowhere to be found. Parents comfort the child, telling them they're big now and don't need a teddy bear. They promise to buy the child, for example, a dog, thinking that the dog will show the child a different joy, teach them something new. Blinded by naivety, the child humbly agrees. Over time, they forget about the teddy bear. Only when the child is no longer a child, when they have grown up, does they begin to notice the absence of the teddy bear – a symbol of bliss, peace, and childhood happiness. But the teddy bear is gone… You see, Łukasz (she didn't like to use his name often; it was practically sacred to her), every time I enter a new stage of my life – a dark tunnel – I lose something irretrievably – my beloved teddy bears. I lost my faith, but I've become accustomed to its absence; I cope on my own. I think it even taught me independence, because in difficult moments, I don't fall to my knees and beg God for help, for guidance, like others do… I cope on my own. But now I still have love, which is you, and hope…” Tears flowed down her cheeks.
Her words moved him so deeply; he felt he was the most important person in her life. Second, she never told Him about losing her faith. They didn't talk about religion.
"Honey, I won't leave you. I'm a teddy bear strapped to you, do you understand? I love you—my love is a harness. I love! I love! I love you!"
They hugged each other and promised to be together forever.
That teenage vow bound them together forever.
After a few years, they got married (a civil wedding, because of her beliefs, which he respected), busied themselves with work, saved up money to buy a house, a car, and traveled abroad. They still managed to enjoy each other, just like when they were teenagers, walking down the street toward the tunnel…
Like in every marriage, they too had their arguments and disagreements, but they always found a compromise.
This idyll didn't last long, however. On their sixth wedding anniversary, over a gala dinner, as was customary on such a day, Łukasz said,
"I have to tell you something very important.
" "Me too, honey," she replied joyfully.
"Tell me."
"No, you first.
" "Okay. I've been carrying this news with me for months. I don't know if this is the right time, but I have to tell you because I can't pretend anymore. I'm suffocating in this relationship. I don't feel fully fulfilled. We're young, and I feel so tired, like I'm seventy. Your love is making me fade. It's so… overwhelming. And I… I don't love you anymore. I'm leaving. Goodbye." He grabbed his briefcase and left the restaurant. He left her alone, shocked, with expensive mascara smeared on her cheeks…
"I'm pregnant…" she repeated quietly, swallowing her tears.
For a long time, she didn't leave the house. She had everything: a house, a car, expensive clothes and cosmetics, her own company, ambitions, plans, people who respected her and valued her opinion… her love for Him and His child inside her. "Baby!" she screamed, and hope resurfaced in her mind that all was not lost.
She dressed elegantly yet solemnly to arouse his desire, applied makeup and combed her hair; she ran out of the house, leaving the door open—she didn't care about her material possessions now. He mattered. Only He. She went to his studio apartment, which he had bought while they were still living together so she could work in peace.
She knocked on the door, and when he opened it, smiling radiantly, she entered his apartment without asking for his permission.
"Dominiko, listen, I don't want to hurt you again with my words. Remember the story that old man told us in Spain? Love is like sand in your hands. The more you clench your fist, the faster the sand spills out, but in an open palm it remains intact. You squeezed your hand too tightly. The sand flew out. I'm sorry, but this is truly the end, finally understand that. This isn't the kind of love I wanted. And neither did you. It didn't work out for us..." He said calmly and sat down in the armchair, and with a feeling of immense humiliation, she ran from his apartment. She ran like an animal blinded by light, oblivious to the obstacles...
She opened her eyes and saw the face of a middle-aged man above her, dressed in a white coat and with a stethoscope around his neck. "
You're in the hospital. You were hit by a car. I'm sorry, but you lost your child in the accident." Apart from the bruises, you're fine. You'll be out in about a week. His voice was as indifferent as if he were talking about an egg that had fallen from someone's hands and broken. It was nothing.
The doctor was right – she was released after a week. With a bag containing her personal belongings, she left the hospital. She decided to walk home. She thought about everything that had happened. About her entire life. She felt that childish naivety again…
I lost faith – my first lost teddy bear… Love left me – but the harness came undone and another teddy bear fell out, and now I've lost the child who was my only hope – my last teddy bear…
I don't even have friends who could give me "vicarious" joy again… Because can I call people who are only there for me when things are good friends?
In the rush of thoughts, she didn't even notice she was walking through a dark, dirty tunnel. She was roused from her reverie by the clatter of cosmetic scissors, which had fallen from her bag, hitting the concrete floor. She leaned down to pick them up and in that instant decided her life had no meaning. She took the scissors and slowly, with great precision, began to slit her veins.
* * *
She saw a light creeping into the darkness surrounding her. A great light that made her feel safe, innocent, and blissful. She thought this must be Heaven. Maybe God was giving her a chance?
She squeezed her hand tightly and felt something soft inside. She looked down. In her hand was the teddy bear again…
Brak komentarzy:
Prześlij komentarz