5:1

I would like to start by saying the things I write here happened in my life or in the lives of people I know. They are not necessarily recent but I’ve decided to write and share them due to the fact that I remember them and I once more live certain moments from the past. I will always ask the permission to the people I write about, I won’t make their names public and I will stay to the interesting stuff from which I can learn something. Maybe you can also learn something from them.

I have always said feelings make you weaker, coward and easy to be manipulated. At least in my case and the women I know. I strictly refer to women. We live in a world where the number of women is 5 times bigger than the number of men. So, a man may have a wife, a lover, a mistress, a secretary and …. To make the count… What could the 5th woman be? A lady or ….maybe a miss.

Today I’ll speak about a good friend of mine, for many years, maybe since forever. We haven’t met very often lately but we try to talk as much as possible. There is no definition for “best friend” as far as I can see. I have more than one friend whom I can consider “best”, so I couldn’t make a specific classification. But, I know for sure that their pain is my pain … And it hurts like hell. I hope that things happen the same for them. I don’t deny that we had our argues, bad ones, with swearing and stuff. I was wrong, they were wrong … But we passed the test of time and finally there were “a few”…

Suffering is part of us. It is a feeling added to our filling. Willingly or not, we all feel it … sooner or later. Sometimes it happens because we are the ones who do things wrong, other times because others do it for us. There are also times when blame is shared … not equally I might add. Anyway … too much introduction and I already feel my blood boiling …

Long time ago:

“There is something wrong with this girl…”

“You are absurd, mean and you act like a director.”

“This is also my opinion, you over do it with your evil mind.”

“Yes Oana…stop it! She is just being naive…”

I’ve been judged by a very rough board because I dared to talk badly about a kind person. Shame on me. I don’t think at myself as a saint. Not even close. And I am not ashamed to face this… But I want to think that some things are done in time … And in my opinion, it matters to whom you do these things, the way you do it. Anyway… I don’t even know how long it’s been. A lot, I guess. Being out of the country I detached myself from my crazy and charismatic group of friends. It’s not like I didn’t want to know anything about them but I haven’t asked for information. I minded my own business, my problems and I forgot the rest … But … one day, I had the great opportunity to be with her, my friend. Away from everyone and everything. It was just the two of us on the streets of a European capital. Most of the time I was the one talking, telling stories and asking for opinions. She judged me roughly, too rough sometimes, I would say! (I know you’ll read about it and I would like you to think of this :p). Don’t get me wrong. She wants the best for me, but because she does a lot of research, she reads a lot; she’s become a kind of psychiatrist for me. We took a lot of pictures then … I’ve visited museums although I hate it, I did it for her. We ate good food; we walked holding hands and laughed our hearts out. We got out every night. Just the two of us. Ne used to dress up and go to the “hottest” places. Mini skirt, high heels, red lip stick, holding our bags… Next! Last night we were so tired but we still got out. We went to a bar to have an Expresso Martini. Just that… instead of drinking one, we drank three … And when we got a little bit drunk …there was a moment of sincerity:

“You were right.”

“Haha… About what?!.. That we should order another round, isn’t it?!”

“I didn’t mean that…”

“Do you want to have something else…? I feel so sorry that tomorrow you have to leave….”

“Me too … Honestly … I wish I could stay longer …especially that…”

“Especially that…?”

“That you were right …”

“You are crazy. What was I right about?”

“About her …”

“Who is her…?!”

I looked at her eyes and I could only see tears and pain. After 5 months the pain was the same. I accidentally broke the glass I was handling. I started crying … I didn’t know whether to hold her hand and suffer like she was, or leave her be … because she hadn’t listened to me. She believed in something unreal and she hoped that everything was just a childish thing … Is there anything childish nowadays in a woman?! Could it be possible for something like this to exist…?!

I don’t remember how many Expresso Martini we ordered … she broke my soul … It hurt me as if the pain was mine … All because she is part of me, she is my person …

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