And yet it’s true.
So, you know the story about the girl, my former girlfriend, someone I wanted to spend my life with. (forums.catholic.com/showthread.php?t=170590 - just so I don’t have to repeat it, but there was also a thread before, or two… two, I think, or three).
So, today I go to university (Warsaw, Poland) to hand the professor an almost-final version of my thesis. The prof isn’t there. I spend some time at university, I go to the library, post some in some forums, check the formalities needed for the thesis etc. Then I check if the prof isn’t there. He isn’t. So I almost go home, but I decide to go and get coffee from the main auditorium. It’s a superfluum: I’m going to my house anyway and I have a coffee machine there and I’ve had a coffee anyway, and I know my getting two coffees from the vending machine is showing off.
But I go and the machine close to the main door, under the stairs isn’t working, so I go to the one at ground floor but farther in the corridors. I open my wallet to take some coins and I see the picture of Merciful Jesus is there, the picture of my sister is on His bosom, but the picture of my ex is not there. I might have hidden it somewhere, but that’s not the point. It’s the occurence.
So then I go and hear some English in the corridor. I think of her. But that would be silly. I go, think I’ll listen where they are from, ask them something. Guess who it was. Yes, she. It was she.
My voice didn’t probably fail me, but my words did. I told her I didn’t know she would be there (a while ago I asked her if the scholarship in Poland was accepted and whether she’d like me to show her around and she replied, “Yes, they’ve accepted me, but I’d rather we didn’t meet at all. Hope you understand.” - and she didn’t even tell me which university it was out of the three possible, of which one was in a different city). She asked how I was. Up until then she was moderately nice and all. She might even have been happy to see me, I think she was - I was more like jaw-dropped. We talked about my university matters going a bit awkward and she said it would all be good. Then I asked her and she said it was very nice here. Well, I ended up saying, “Dealing with it… With things. Well, dealing,” and then she noticed it was giving me pain. After a while, she said they were starting and she had to go. “So (…) bye.” I asked if she would like to talk a bit. She said, “I’d rather not,” and went on.
And here I am. Going to church right now, but it hasn’t really hit me yet, I think. I have to finish off the thesis by tomorrow, but I honestly don’t know how I’m going to. I don’t want to know what when it gets me. And I don’t believe it as an accident. Oh come on, there is a “chance”, but…
Basically, now she’s in my country and city, 1000 km (some 600 miles with change) away from hers, on a scholarship she had applied for while still with me (I remember sending the application with her) and doesn’t want to talk to me. Not like she doesn’t know me, but like she would rather not. The accent, the manner of speech, felt like I was two classes lower or something. Assertive. I don’t understand.