(this is a 100% fictional story. it was one of my first short stories i ever wrote.)
It has been another one of those crazy weeks at the office, or should I rather say cellar. See us winemakers don’t really believe in the office routine. We enjoy cruising through the cellar sniffing Pinots and spitting Chardies down the drain, pretending to know it all and bamboozle the nosey tourist or two with our fancy wine-ese. It is strange how people can become so entrapped in the words of one that speaks with confidence.
So another typical day, minding my own business, chattering away - until I receive a text message on my mobile phone. These new phones all have these weird vibrating functions and it makes me jump each time the phone does its thing. I look down at the inbox and see it’s from Genna. She’s an old ex-girlfriend of mine. I have to say I was sort of taken of guard seeing that I heard about her engagement just a few days ago. “Quite sudden I thought to myself”. But, hey, she’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. Anyhow I open the text and to my surprise see an invite to meet up with her for dinner some time in the next week. Feeling excitingly weird about it, I accept and the date is set for Monday night. Whoopee-do!
The day progresses and it sort of slips my mind. Actually the whole week passes before I realise over the weekend what I have gotten myself into. Still in my mind I feel ok about this whole thing with her. After all, she is obviously over me, so I don’t have to worry about the uneasy, uncomfortable vibe that often sets the scene for such meetings that more than often only ends up in disastrous quarrels.
Let me paint a picture of her that you can also be at rest before you meet her. She has always been a real sweetie pie. A looker too, but then again, I have always had the eye for good looking girls. Beautiful dark skin, fair dark hair taken back to reveal the beautiful features of my beloved Genna. Oh yes, my Genna indeed. We had a serious relationship for about seven years before it ended when I got traded for a fancy career in Amsterdam. She was into corporate law at the time. A darn shame that was. I thought she might have been the one. But then, that just shows that I have been wrong about a couple of things in my life. Well, at least this time.
So come Monday, I’m all good to go. Last minute stuff at the “office” keeps me longer than anticipated and I get stuck in rush hour traffic. Perfect! I always remember her hating it when I wasn’t on time. Not that it happened often, but there has been the odd occasion. Funny thing is: she picks the same restaurant where she arranged a surprise party for my 30th birthday. Best party I ever had. Wonder if it is coincidence? Then again – nothing has ever been coincidence with this girl – oh no, not Genna. I recall her wearing a black dress, smooth and tight, absolutely perfect with a big sea shell draped around her neck.
So there I am; speeding off to meet the lost love of my life. Luckily I’m only a tad late; I enter left stage and there she is – my Genna, soon to be some one else’s Genna. She is sitting behind a tall glass of champagne while it is freezing outside. I sit down and immediately the connection is still there, it hasn’t gone yet. Will it ever? I can’t but think of all the “what if’s” and “what could have been’s”. Perhaps it’s just human to think that? So we talk about my new venture into the unknown while catching up on the engagement and who this scoundrel is that’s taking my Genna from me. So I listen but all I hear is bla bla bla, while she’s babbling on about how much different he is from me and he does this and that (obviously the things I never was!), and how perfect this guy is. Whatever – I think.
The mood changes and I suddenly find myself in front of a Sanhedrin. All the why’s fly straight at my head. I keep ducking and diving but they keep hitting me. I have nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. So I knuckle down and take it on the chin. The questions keep on coming: Why did I not keep contact while she was in Amsterdam; why didn’t I come to see her; why did I ignore her the times she came back to visit; why did I have to break her heart? Funny sort of questions for a girl on the brink of getting married I think to myself. But you know, probably all relevant and legitimate.
To most of the questions I give cowardice answers because I don’t think she would be able to handle the reasons I would give her. Of the two other lovers I had in town while she was away. That, for one, will break her. Not to mention the “other” problems that occurred while she was away. But I knew the answers: She broke my heart to many times before with all her shenanigans so getting a “consolation goal in overtime” was probably just setting the record straight. Also, I have lost trust in our ability to be happy together, to make each other happy, and to sustain the magic we once had. Not to mention the broken trust after “goal two”! Or the day she made that comment that crippled me and that would change my course forever – that was the final nail in my coffin. That day something died in me. I only realised that months later after she had left…it hit me one day out of nowhere. And that was the beginning of five years in the wilderness, two years of “chasing Cezanne”, one years I would rather forget, and two more years that I unfortunately can’t wipe out, no matter how hard I try.
She mentions as I sit there about the final gift I gave her that painful afternoon at the international terminal and about some note I wrote before she left. She wanted to know if we were ok regarding soul ties and I said I’m all sorted and that she’s got nothing to worry about. Possibly the only truthful thing I said all night. The night ends as we walk off into our separate ways for the last time. She says that I made it onto the guest list for the wedding but knowing that I will be away on another adventure then she will not be sending an invitation. I tell her not to worry and that I would have come had I not been away. I got in the car and drove off – as we go our separate ways for the last time.
So another typical day, minding my own business, chattering away - until I receive a text message on my mobile phone. These new phones all have these weird vibrating functions and it makes me jump each time the phone does its thing. I look down at the inbox and see it’s from Genna. She’s an old ex-girlfriend of mine. I have to say I was sort of taken of guard seeing that I heard about her engagement just a few days ago. “Quite sudden I thought to myself”. But, hey, she’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. Anyhow I open the text and to my surprise see an invite to meet up with her for dinner some time in the next week. Feeling excitingly weird about it, I accept and the date is set for Monday night. Whoopee-do!
The day progresses and it sort of slips my mind. Actually the whole week passes before I realise over the weekend what I have gotten myself into. Still in my mind I feel ok about this whole thing with her. After all, she is obviously over me, so I don’t have to worry about the uneasy, uncomfortable vibe that often sets the scene for such meetings that more than often only ends up in disastrous quarrels.
Let me paint a picture of her that you can also be at rest before you meet her. She has always been a real sweetie pie. A looker too, but then again, I have always had the eye for good looking girls. Beautiful dark skin, fair dark hair taken back to reveal the beautiful features of my beloved Genna. Oh yes, my Genna indeed. We had a serious relationship for about seven years before it ended when I got traded for a fancy career in Amsterdam. She was into corporate law at the time. A darn shame that was. I thought she might have been the one. But then, that just shows that I have been wrong about a couple of things in my life. Well, at least this time.
So come Monday, I’m all good to go. Last minute stuff at the “office” keeps me longer than anticipated and I get stuck in rush hour traffic. Perfect! I always remember her hating it when I wasn’t on time. Not that it happened often, but there has been the odd occasion. Funny thing is: she picks the same restaurant where she arranged a surprise party for my 30th birthday. Best party I ever had. Wonder if it is coincidence? Then again – nothing has ever been coincidence with this girl – oh no, not Genna. I recall her wearing a black dress, smooth and tight, absolutely perfect with a big sea shell draped around her neck.
So there I am; speeding off to meet the lost love of my life. Luckily I’m only a tad late; I enter left stage and there she is – my Genna, soon to be some one else’s Genna. She is sitting behind a tall glass of champagne while it is freezing outside. I sit down and immediately the connection is still there, it hasn’t gone yet. Will it ever? I can’t but think of all the “what if’s” and “what could have been’s”. Perhaps it’s just human to think that? So we talk about my new venture into the unknown while catching up on the engagement and who this scoundrel is that’s taking my Genna from me. So I listen but all I hear is bla bla bla, while she’s babbling on about how much different he is from me and he does this and that (obviously the things I never was!), and how perfect this guy is. Whatever – I think.
The mood changes and I suddenly find myself in front of a Sanhedrin. All the why’s fly straight at my head. I keep ducking and diving but they keep hitting me. I have nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. So I knuckle down and take it on the chin. The questions keep on coming: Why did I not keep contact while she was in Amsterdam; why didn’t I come to see her; why did I ignore her the times she came back to visit; why did I have to break her heart? Funny sort of questions for a girl on the brink of getting married I think to myself. But you know, probably all relevant and legitimate.
To most of the questions I give cowardice answers because I don’t think she would be able to handle the reasons I would give her. Of the two other lovers I had in town while she was away. That, for one, will break her. Not to mention the “other” problems that occurred while she was away. But I knew the answers: She broke my heart to many times before with all her shenanigans so getting a “consolation goal in overtime” was probably just setting the record straight. Also, I have lost trust in our ability to be happy together, to make each other happy, and to sustain the magic we once had. Not to mention the broken trust after “goal two”! Or the day she made that comment that crippled me and that would change my course forever – that was the final nail in my coffin. That day something died in me. I only realised that months later after she had left…it hit me one day out of nowhere. And that was the beginning of five years in the wilderness, two years of “chasing Cezanne”, one years I would rather forget, and two more years that I unfortunately can’t wipe out, no matter how hard I try.
She mentions as I sit there about the final gift I gave her that painful afternoon at the international terminal and about some note I wrote before she left. She wanted to know if we were ok regarding soul ties and I said I’m all sorted and that she’s got nothing to worry about. Possibly the only truthful thing I said all night. The night ends as we walk off into our separate ways for the last time. She says that I made it onto the guest list for the wedding but knowing that I will be away on another adventure then she will not be sending an invitation. I tell her not to worry and that I would have come had I not been away. I got in the car and drove off – as we go our separate ways for the last time.
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