I’m walking through the city centre and I’m indignant. It’s in the middle of November and there are already New Year’s decorations everywhere. That’s killing the holiday spirit! Why such a rush?
I used to love holidays but this year I would like to go away from all this. I have to pretend every day and in this time of year people expect everyone to smile all the time and be even happier than on the ordinary days. I’m tired of pretending.
I get a text message. It’s you, of course. “Is there something wrong? You’re late.” I know I’m late, you didn’t have to tell me that. “I’m almost there.” I don’t want you to worry or suspect anything. I’ll be there in a few minutes.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. How long have you been here?” I kiss you. You wanted to go out tonight for a drink in our favourite bar. I’m not in the mood but I couldn’t find any excuse so here I am…
“No, it’s ok. I’ve been here a couple of minutes before I sent you the message.” The waitress comes and I order a glass of wine. You already have your drink.
“Whiskey? What’s the occasion?” You usually drink beer and this whiskey on the table is making me nervous.
You get straight to the point. “We have to talk.” Are my nightmares coming true? Are you leaving me? I don’t care about anything but I can’t bear the thought of life without you. You’ve been my rock for the past seven years and I don’t want to lose you. I should have thought about this before…
“What’s wrong?” I can’t look you in your eyes. The waitress brings me my wine. “Can I get another glass of wine please?” It seems to me I’ll need a whole bottle.
“Is there something wrong with this one? I brought you the one you ordered.” She seems a bit scared.
“No, everything's alright. I think I’ll need another glass of wine, that’s all.” I try to smile and she’s comforted as she walks away. I drink all the wine and look at you. For the first time since I came here.
“I know what’s going on. I know you’re depressed again. I know you, and I can see when something’s wrong with you.” The waitress brings me the new glass of wine and I want to drink it and order a whole bottle. But it’s not a good idea to get drunk. Why did you invite me out if you wanted to talk about this? Are you leaving me and you don’t want me to make a scene? And you know I won’t make one in public?
“I invited you out because I think that it would be easier to talk about this in public. I don’t know why and it seems like a set up but I want to help you.” Are you reading my mind?
“Are you leaving me?” That’s all I can get out of my mouth. You’re laughing. What the hell is wrong with you? What’s so funny here?
“I’m not leaving you. I love you and I’m here for you. I want to help you.” You hug me and I know it’s true. You’re here for me. How could I think that you would leave me if I would tell you that it’s happening all over again?
“I love you!” I really do. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what’s going on.” I start crying.
“I know, its ok. I’m not angry. We’ll get through this together.” I believe you.