The woman at the next table

You were sitting at the next table …

You were sitting at the next table in the place we went to in an evening, when many people were sincerely caught up in the flow of Friday joy, and some gave their lip corners to gravity after selfies with fake grins.

As soon as I sat down, I entered your energy area. Unfortunately, I have such a habit that from time-to-time distances me from the table I am at.

You were sitting alone, uneasily. You were looking around as if you were comfortable and at the same time checking your phone anxiously.

You glared at me for a while… Maybe you didn’t even realize it, maybe you were quite uncomfortable because I was a woman sitting in line with the man you were waiting for.

Then came the anxiously awaited, about whom previously spoken with female friends many times, with whom had had dreams of marriage even if it would not come true – just not to be single anymore at that age, of whom every mood is tolerated, at whom been very angry at every now and then but also thought to be loved. The other player I would never know whether he was a proper man, the savior, the prince, the lesser evil, the lesser goods, the punishment, the reward, a friend, or an enemy…

He was as he was, he is clear, a little rude but as he was, he was like saying “this is me” … No false manners … He sat at the table …

And the game began.

Your women’s games …

At first, you were cheerful like a 10-year-old girl. You were smiling so much that I was going to tell you “Shut your mouth now, you don’t need it”.

That pretended joy was replaced by a bitter smile after a while. Your man had a problem, you listened to him with too much interest, you said you were with him.

Do not think that I listened to all of your conversations… But you attracted my attention at important intersections, I couldn’t help it.

My husband, who knows my habit, said “Would you come back to the table?” a few times. Then I came back.

But after a while, it was as if you said “Look at me” again. I looked at you. You took the gift pack from under the table, giggling, and gave it to him. It was his birthday.

He opened it, liked it, even tried it.

“How much did you pay for this?” he said.

You said, “Never mind”.

But you must have said the price the moment I walked away. I heard him repeat, it was really expensive.

“It was not necessary?” he said.

You said, “Worth for you” without believing it… It was so obvious… I couldn’t help thinking “I wonder how many installments she paid it by”.

The next time I looked, he got up from the table to went to the bathroom, you were looking with a smile. As soon as he got out of sight, your face fell so badly that only a woman could interpret such a facial expression.

Your script was ready, I knew you were going to argue in the next scene.

You did not surprise me.

I don’t know where you fired the wick but the next sentence I heard was;

“I’m so stupid that I bought you such an expensive gift.”

It didn’t even take 15 minutes to go from “you are worth it” to “you are not worth it”.

From time to time you said, “Isn’t the food good, isn’t it pleasant here?” Then he did not like the food and found the atmosphere too noisy. He expressed them clearly.

Did you really love him or were you pretending? I thought you were pretending.

Because let alone that night, you were actually so unhappy with that day, that week, that month, that year, that body, that past, that possible future, that life …

But you were also so precious, so beautiful, so well-intentioned, so lovable, so naïve.

You guys got up quickly after the argument.

I wanted to chase you and said, “I understand you; I understand the script you have been playing for an hour, I know all of these games that we played many times. Don’t glare at me, I am the one who understands you most. I’m not your opponent, not your enemy, but your girlfriend, your sister”.

And I wanted to add:

“You don’t need this man to love you to love yourself. There is no need that he treats you with honor, pretends, goes out to dinner with you on a Friday night, and make love to you once in a while and remind you that you are still lovable”.

Maybe you would ask me “Who are you to be listening to me all night and then judging me?” And you would be right.

Then I would say:

“I am one of many women who were born into this world and this country as a girl, became an adult woman, passed the same paths as you did, exposed to the same subconscious coding, were made to believe that I would be complete with a man, always had expectations and pulled a long face by feeling when my expectations were not met, set my hopes on Fridays and Saturdays, ended my nights with disappointment which I had hoped to be wonderful, could never be in the flow, always planned the next one, was terrified of disloyalty, was jealous of the women whom I saw with the full state, free of my deficiencies, feared, worried, and relied on back and forth games”.

“So where are you now giving me advice?” you would tell me maybe …

Where am I? I set out on a road, I am walking, I’m telling you how much I have walked, let’s go together from now on …

Let’s first “be”, then everything “happens” easily.

I didn’t tell these to her…

Because you didn’t ask me anything. The way was your way. You would walk, experience, maybe you would want to be loved for the rest of your life before you love yourself. It was not my duty.

I just sent my good intentions to your heart.

For your path and heart to be open …