I remember last year’s academy awards: In front of the conjugal bed, half dressed, already late for school (I was teaching then), and Reese Witherspoon was holding back tears and accepting a little gold statue.
Few minutes later, when I finally managed to turn the television off, feeling sleek and cool in my fresh clothes and Omnia BVLGARY floating around like fairy dust, the biometric door tinkered and slid, the cats bid me farewell, and I knocked on the neighbour’s door.
And he was there.
His face always lights up when he sees me in these hours.
I sat down by his table.
[There’s always that moment of measuring between us, wondering what one was going to say to the next. Whether or not it was safe enough to say anything at all.]
If things went well between us, just for this moment, we can both manage through the rest of the day fine.
Come to think about it, he committed himself to be there every morning, just for the five minutes of exchanged kindly words and pleasantries.
I have to give him that much.
…what’ve you been doing all night?…
…did you sleep well?…
…are you going to be alright?…
…what’re are you going to be doing today?……have you eaten anything?…
…can we have lunch together today?…
…have a nice day, you……(a careful kiss on the lips, a calculated embrace)…
…I love you…
I'm always, always grateful that I got out of this one in one piece.
