In your arms

November 02, 2023 - Carina's house

It's finally Friday! Thank you everyone and have a nice weekend!

November 02, 2023 – Carina's house

I just finished the night shift, which was quite hectic and did not allow me to rest that much. Also because in the meantime, in the rare breaks we had, Andy and I resorted to all our patience to listen to Vic, who is currently in crisis with respect to her relationship with Jackson: if "running" and "being serious" have been characteristics in all of Vic's relationships to date, with Jackson she feels the need to tread lightly, perhaps because of the unflattering gossip about him, perhaps because of their major differences, in practically everything, but this forces her to weigh every event, even the most trivial, analyzing it under a dramatically paranoid magnifying glass. And it also means that very often she drags her two best friends, myself and Andy, into these mental whirlwinds of hers, of which there is never any end in sight.

In essence, then, I find myself in zombie-like guises under Carina's house. I try to remind myself over and over again that I am here because I love her, because it is her birthday, and because I want to give her this mundane but special surprise. On the other side of the scale are my tiredness, my lack of romance, in fact, I would call it more an allergy to sweetness, especially the "commanded" kind, and the fact that the battery of my mental energy is inversely proportional to that of my paranoia, which often produces bad moods. So for the last time, I tell myself again that it is not a problem if to make this thought to Carina I have to buzz to HER house, instead of, trivially, going back to OUR house. And I tell myself again that it is not a problem if I have not yet gotten any kind of response to her "I need to think about it on my own", when I proposed that we could live together. After taking one last deep breath, then, I intercom and have to wait a few minutes, and another peal, for Carina to open the door. I climb the stairs two by two, trying not to fantasize about the reasons: it's only 09 a.m., it's true, and she often likes to sleep, it's true, but how often does she wake up at 08 just to do pilates? And how often does she wake up at the slightest noise? I put aside the doubts that eat away at my brain like the worm eats the apple and put on my best smile. I have a sacher cake in one hand, one of her favorites, and three sunflowers in the other. When I land on her landing the door is still closed, but it opens wide shortly after: I offer her my best smile and full of enthusiasm I exclaim...

M < happy birthday, my love!> Carina steps back, almost as if my enthusiasm had run over her like a train. She is still sleepy and still wearing her nightgown: she was obviously asleep.

M < sorry if I woke you up..> I say, taking one more step toward her, but she does not flinch from the doorway.

C < Maya..> she finally says, open-mouthed. She runs her hands through her hair and looks at me, really, surprised. < what are you doing here?> she asks and I spread my arms as wide as I can.

M < it's your birthday...!> I exclaim decisively, before feeling myself deflate like a punctured balloon. < sorry, I thought you'd be pleased..>

C < I am pleased! Very...!> she hastens to say, but I don't find her at all reassuring.

M < but...?> I ask uncertainly. Carina sighs and does not have time to say anything that a figure of a woman appears behind her. My eyes study the situation in disbelief: she is barefoot, with bare legs and her bottom half exposed. Luckily she has a T-shirt on, but right now I don't see how that would reassure me.

< tout va bien?> I don't even understand what language this girl is speaking, but my tear-filled eyes settle on Carina.

M < Carina...> I say dejectedly.