by Anastasia Dimitropoulou
It’s five am. The sky’s dull, full of clouds, sins and grief. It won’t take long. A wild summer rain is coming, like a cheated lover who’s about to burst into tears. It won’t take long. The sea is already scratching the rocks and the air’s getting colder as it leaves salty kisses on Ivy’s naked shoulders. She’s still there. Waiting barefoot. Actually, she was born to be waiting for miracles to happen, dreams to come true and people to feel. As for David, he must be snoring somewhere in the tender palms of this sleepy town.
They have been quarreling for over a month. That month was long, sweaty and really hard to struggle. That month seemed to be a truck on her chest. A rusty chain around her ankle. A gun ready to shoot upon what they’ve once lived together. No sleepovers, no laughs, no words at all. Nothing but a dreadfull silence. She’s not brave enough to explain and face it. She’s lost into the jungle.
Is anybody there? Does anybody feel the same?
She’s lost her way to his heart. She’s even lost herself.
She mostly reads in the balcony. Breathing the sea breeze and wearing a white T – shirt with his favorite basketball team stamp. She goes to the grocery on daily basis to buy the green apples he loves, even if she hates them. She drives her father’s SUV late in the afternoons with the sun burning her skin and eyes, listening to the British band they watched live in London last year. He. He’s nowhere to reach. He moans broken excuses at nights. Or just the end of an era.
She tries to call during the day. He rarely answers her calls or calls back. He keeps sending those messages. «I’m busy, babe». Too busy to make up for all the things he said the other day. She misses him a lot. The old him. The special man that erased her insecurities, took care of her previous wounds and happily sang into her ear «I’m sticking with you, ’cause I’m made out of glue». She recalls their dates, all the games they played, the love they made and the goals they dreamed to achieve. All she needs is more space in his heart. She’s fighting to earn his affection, his approval, his attention again.
Things have totally changed. How come? Had she been sleeping? Has she been deceived again? What on earth has happened?
He now calls her selfish and a weirdo. Or even a fussy kid. He insists on her going nuts for no reason at all. He whispered that everything is ok, before yelling that enough is enough. He’s a lawyer, you know. An incredible attorney of himself. He’s a guy that never asked for her love with words but claimed and gained it by using his wand.
Her cell phone is vibrating. He sent a message. Is he awake? It’s half past six. She’s about to read it out loud. She is coordinating her deep voice to both the raining and the sea gulls sounds. «I’m nothing but a lawyer, whilst you’re the judge. No love in this world deserves to be condemned to death. Please, let me win this trial for us, if you still care. I’m waiting for the verdict of your heart. Please, don’t leave. I’ll appeal.»