variation: love

I went there. Admittedly, I didn't feel like it, but damn, I went. I was invited to the birthday party of one of my friends, from high school. A few old faces and other acquaintances were supposed to show up—in short, nothing new. Besides, even if there were someone new, it probably wouldn't be significantly different from the crowd. And the crowd was subpar. To say I can't stand them is an understatement; I hate them. I can only hate someone I don't know, and I can only hate a face that's already disgusted me in every way.

I see you grinning because you know you're the only one I can tolerate. Ha! I tickled your vanity, but you should know that I hate you too, and your face disgusted me beyond measure. Heh, you're still smiling... you know I wasn't telling the truth. That's why I hate you more than them, for knowing me so well. I'd love to punch you in the fucking teeth. But back to the point.

I was going, so I was going to waste.

You ask who invited me, that I accepted? Of course, the fucking birthday girl! Don't laugh! I hate you for that mocking laugh... You know... When I look at you, the events I told you and the secrets I confided in you flash before my eyes... I hate you for not being able to live without you... you're unique, exceptionally discreet... Fuck!

I'm going to that fucking market square! I hate those pubs in the market square.

You know me, I hate hanging around clubs, listening to shitty music. I'd rather sit here with you and talk. Hey! You know that.

I walk into the club, I see these losers. Smiling faces, beer, cigarettes. I've had enough of them. "Hi," I say to them and sit down in an empty chair. The idiot birthday girl waves at me. I look at her with complete anger... stupid, she must not see, because she's grinning like a clown.

Just like you are now, you idiot!

I smile crookedly and say, "The best." She seems offended, probably thinking I'd just fucking run up and make out with her! I hate that whore the most out of that crew. What she did to me was the height of rudeness. She's sitting next to that prick and grinning at me. When I look at him, my stomach turns. Fuck! For one thing, I'm proud that I've never shaken his hand.

Ha! I remember you liked him very well, don't look so innocent now, I know you're ashamed to admit it. But fuck! It's mostly her fault, and I've officially made up with her, and you know the song. Anyway.

I sit in my chair and listen to these imbeciles. They're all in a great mood, as if their stupidity didn't bother them. I order a beer. Krzysiek—you know him—asks how I'm doing. I tell him I'm still alive and I stay silent. He's talking nonsense, he's already guilty, and it shows. I don't listen to him, I don't answer his questions. I sit there staring at a point on the wall above Marta.

Oh! I'm going to fucking laugh at you... Haha!!! Oh, I can't! If I remember you, how you were hitting on her and she didn't! Hehe. Oh, well, okay.

I sit there and watch. Krzysiek quickly gave up. I got a beer and immediately knocked him out. Before she left, I told the waitress I wanted another one. I sit back. They start reminiscing about school, high school finals, prom, and they start moping about college. I feel like an outcast. I'm the only one in the crowd not in college. Fuck! It's an embarrassing situation, I want to leave, but I just ordered a beer. Finally, she asks a question. Fuck! I have to answer, I say: I'm working and everyone else is giving a damn. They grimaced at the "fuck," but they didn't give up. They asked: how? Where? How much? And I have nothing to show for it, fuck. I'm being honest and clear, so it doesn't seem like I'm ashamed. He interrupted the interrogation. He stood up and said he was going to the "restroom," fuck, maybe he'll even say "to school." The subject changed, and I continued staring at the wall. I'd had enough. I was a little afraid of further questioning, maybe I wanted to run away, but anyway, this whole story was already going sideways. The woman brought me a beer. This time I didn't drink it all at once because it was too cold. Placed in front of me, it became a new focus of my observation. She speaks again. She's bragging about her gifts. Fuck! It's probably out of spite, revenge for me not buying her anything. Is she trying to shake my conscience? Fuck her. When she talks to me, I start drinking my beer and look for the columns. After a moment, I'm giving up. And good. I can't stand her voice.

Why are you surprised? I used to associate her voice with what connected us, now it's associated with what divides us.

He's back. He kissed her, embraced her, like they were fucking in love! Fuck! I can't stand this! I finish my beer, get up, tell her I'm going to the bathroom, and I go. I look, and Beata gets up...

er, you haven't seen her, I've never invited her here. But I've talked about her a lot... you know, my "binoculars into the women's world."

I'm waiting for her. Even though I hate her, I like her, in a similar way to you. She's probably the only one who realizes I hate her, but she likes me too.

Oh! I see you're jealous! I didn't know you could react like that! Hehe! But you should know, she's probably the only woman I wouldn't want to be with. Okay, back to the topic.

I waited. She immediately asked questions. How am I doing? Even though I mentioned it ten minutes ago, she wants to know more. She asks how our friends are doing, whom she hasn't seen since the graduation ceremony. I tell her they're alive, studying, working, and have met women.

And you're already happy! You can guess what happened next, so I won't tell! I went to the bathroom and came back. Hush! You're so mean! Yes! She asked about my fucking women, like there were no one to talk about. I told her I'd been single for a year, I wasn't looking for anything, and I didn't give a damn. Damn! Sometimes you drive me crazy! Okay, that's what I wanted to say. It didn't work;

I said I was still looking, but I'm terrible at it, that I'm a bit bored without Neighbor, that I'm writing some dickhead stuff and reading in my free time now. What I like most about her is that no matter what I say, she always has the same expression on her face: constant depression. It cheers me up; I feel like I'm not alone. We chatted for a while, I went to take a piss, and I promised to wait for her. I don't know why. When we got back, I didn't say a word to her. She was chatting away, and I wasn't listening. When we got to the table, I heard them talking about me. Of course I was pissed, and of course I didn't let it show. I just mumbled that I was coming, threw the beer money on the table, turned on my heel, and left. The street wasn't completely dark yet. I leave, and she follows me. She calls out to me, and I turn around. She's standing in the doorway, looking at me with those pleading eyes of hers. I hate that look, for how fucking natural it is! I ask, "What?" she says, "Do I have to go now?" Oh fuck! She's asked that before, and according to her, it means "I'd really like you to stay," except I have no reason to stay, and besides, the female dog is as phony as a tenner. You never know what she's thinking. I want to turn away without a word, but I say, "I'm going." She looks at me, and I look at her. That look infuriates me. I know she won't turn first, and if I don't move, we'll be standing here until morning. She's stupid, she's got a Tic Tac in her head for a brain, I know her all too well. I raise my hand, turn around, and go.

I'm so proud. Thanks to that, I'm here with you now. You know... I love you. I know you know. I love you, the only one in the world. For listening, for being silent, for always being there. Seven years together. Remember when I first confessed my love to you? It was October. Ha! Today is our anniversary! It was almost exactly a year ago, when I came back from her birthday. Remember? I was lying on you, fucking drunk, absolutely fucking drunk! I was lying there, listening to Manson at full volume, so loud my skull almost split open. Then I realized you were the only one who hadn't abandoned me, that you knew everything about me because I told you everything. You know me, you know my dreams. Only then did I realize it. I embraced you. In that embrace, I held everything that was saddest in me. You hugged me back. You said nothing. Then I whispered, "I love you," and you replied the same, only more quietly. I said, "You're the only one who hasn't cheated on me yet." I said everything then, and you remained silent. I said, "I love you," and you replied the same, only more quietly.

You know... I love you...

I know.