Gary Schwarzinger

So I saw her today.
I knew I would not miss it for the world when she'd come; so I had already pressed myself among all the people sitting on the bench eating when I heard the footsteps. My heart was just jumping out of my ribs, I knew it must be her; no matter how often all kinds of footsteps were to be heard from outside, I knew right away and those ones were to be hers and could not belong to anyone else, no way.
At first I was stoned, I could not move, untill she rushed inside, nodding at me, it felt like suddenly waking up after years of having been cursed. I jumped up and followed her; she was there, of course she was.
I made sure to look into her eyes carefully before hugging, I saw it, I saw her, I saw the life there again, and so I hugged her, I hugged her as tight as my arms could still hold on to someone. There came the feeling, there came the tears in my eyes, I wanted to say... I had a whole lot to say, I still do have the whole lot to say, for I could not say anything. She rubbed my back, or maybe she just rubbed my back, I could not realize exactly which because of my long thick coat.
I knew I had to let go, so I did.
From the moment on I behaved myself just like an idiot 14 year old boy who has fallen for his classmate and she is somehow not getting along with this new fact: his first love, and he is making such a fool out of himself. 14, the age with which we became friends, real good friends from the beginning, against all odds.
I let go, for I was afraid to burst out in tears, and just like a fool, I didn't want to cry in front of these people who see me everyday, somehow I alwys wanna give a happy image of myself, and it hurts everytime I have to tell someone that something bad has happened, or that I have a problem...
So I let go, but she knew, she understood, I saw it in her eyes,I saw it in her smile as she said: "Sometimes it's good to cry."
And instead of all what I wnated to tell her, instead of all the confessions and commitments I just said, I just simply said: "Yes, but not here."
It was too short, just too short. She slipped out of my hands, and we both know it.
In the Cafeteria, (I just followed her there because she wanted to drink coffee) I felt ashamed, awfully ashamed when she asked me if I would too drink coffee and I had to refuse. For the first time I felt ashamed that I could not eat. I so much loved to sit down and have a drink with her, but I couldn't, I did not want to make all those faces I have to make while eating these days, not in front of her, or worse, I did not want her to see my useless attempts to throw up after swallowing down.
I could not talk when she was drinking her coffee, I just watched, I watched her and triedto remember every little detail. Instead, we talk about unimportant matters, as unimportant as they could be. Yet it somehow hceers me up, the naked truth that she is talking to me and she istalking to me the way she'd be talking to me cheers me up as well as it warms my weak heart.
Weak or strong, I do not know anymore; I know I should be thankfull of how my heart stands on my side these days, especially after the two days, whenI forgot my tranquilizers at home and had only the Pranols.
She prefers to spend Saturday and Sunday alone, she said.
I hate to spend weekends on my own, she knows.
Especially when they are my only chance to spend time with her.
But my prayers have been answered, and I am thankfull for that. I know how sarcastic it should sound, an atheist saying prayers, but I did, to no god, but I did, oh yes I did...
I closed the door not to see her leave, maybe I supersticiously believe that I might get to see her again sooner if I don't see her leave, if I don't say goodbye.
On my way back I went to the supermarket; orange nectar and something light, in the hope that I might start eating, that I would next time not be so ashamed in front of her, that the next time, I might get the chance that we both talk, that anything might move foreward faster if I restart eating, sooner.
And it hit me again, guilt did hit me again on the way home: how could I do any harm to the most precious one I know: how could I, and what did I? If I'd known, there mighthave been a way to get out of this.
It hit me as if a giant stone would have fallen on me with such a velocity, that it took us both directly to the underworld.
Oh how I hate weekends on my own, I hate the time without her; the next I might start to feel jealous of all her other friends; funny, all what life can do to one, isn't it?
Funny how easily I could be really turned to the 14 year old boy who tries to find a way to tell his friend, she is no more just a friend, who tries to find a way to her, who does anything to get closer to her, but just can't bring outany words.

Let's say I am just being a stupid supid stupid young Schwarzinger, left on his own in a merciless world.