It’s November and Saturday and plus 6 Celsius and it rains all day. At noon I need to put on the light to see what I’m reading. In afternoon before making my dinner I take a walk, sensibly dressed under my pink umbrella.
I imagined it would be nicely to publish a poetry collection before I leave this cold and wet place, but… what a depressing reading really, too much of bad and useless writing and on top a reminder of an old love story. Nevertheless, it began to work today, so I feel a bit optimistic. And it feels good to take a walk in the rain under my pink umbrella.
I swore back then to never love so madly again. But whatever… Nowadays I have my long distance calls in which I fumble with my halting English…. once I told my new lover “Every time I look at your photo I want to kiss you…” And I’m so glad I must use English when I say things like that, because I would never ever say it in Swedish without immediately say to myself, “have you lost your mind?”
… and that’s what friends are thinking, and they ask me -”couldn’t you have found a Swedish man? A man in your own country?” No, I couldn’t….
As I was never looking for love, not now and not before. I lived before pretty much as I do today – like in a desolated desert – I went on my walks alone and had my dinners alone and watch TV alone in the evenings… and no one ever asked for me, like I was invisible or something…
…and so surprisingly one day a man who not only lived in Sweden but furthermore in my staircase picked me up.
And in spite he wasn’t an unknown stranger, it showed he was nothing but a conman treated me cruel… now he is only a vulnerable memory and some lines in a planned poetry collection.
Every meeting with another person change your world. Some experiences you certainly could have lived without. But back then my heart lay fallow until he brought back life and passion into it. Now I walk alone again in the rain but under my pink umbrella.
But in spite how it romantically colours light, it’s a completely mundane umbrella, made for average people and bought at IKEA, much more common-sense you can’t get! If my new love is nothing but a dream leading nowhere because of distance and practicable obstacles, I have at least this time found a man dreaming the same dream as I do.
And if I’m mistaken once more and my new love only is an aged and lonely lady’s silly dream, I succeed at least occasionally write some pretty good stuff about it. Much more worried friends cannot ask for on my behalf, that’s frankly my opinion. For what is – I’ll ask you – a human who has lost all her dreams? I’ll tell you – a living dead having a life with no thrill and no shimmer. Completely uninspired!
So here I go, taking a walk under my pink umbrella….