The three of us were sitting.
The evening sun that was beating down on us was illuminating the olive-black eyes of the woman, whom we were the guests, after moving around the walls of the room.
She was telling with anger just to spite the soft color in her eyes:
“He said to me … Then he did … He told me these as well … I was so angry …”
We listened quietly. We listened for a long time.
My outer was silent, but my inner was not silent. I was constantly gulping. Otherwise, I would keep saying, “he is your mirror … You can’t see what you don’t have …”
I did not talk. I just watched; the teller and the listener who did not add any comments told by the teller…
I knew what the listener could say. I knew how she could transform the place, the event, and the teller in one sentence. But she was listening calmly and quietly.
Then the subject changed and after a while, we left.
When we were alone again, I asked:
“She told so much; you did not comment.”
“She didn’t ask anything… She just wanted to tell. To tell someone who doesn’t want to hear yet is to torment her”.
I had no word to say after that expression. I thought about the people I tortured unwittingly, and those who tortured me…
Forgive me… I forgive you.
I know that you will read this issue line by line. Let us remember once again that what we learn in the inside pages is for us first… Maybe only for us… We cannot change anyone else than ourselves…
See you after two months,
With love…
This is the introduction of the 23rd issue of Pozitif Magazine. December 2017
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