I just know that now is spring and I am still young. Being young in the spring is not just a phrase; it is a state full of passion.
It was another spring and I was young, actually younger. I was writing a paper days and nights and drinking coffee. Although I had a very clear mind about working and sacrificing because of my future, I was very board. I was even jealous to cats in the park nearby. I could hear them making love. All of a sudden I stopped writing and looked at my desk. Such a time I had on that desk the spring before. I was even younger and spring was more spring or if you want springer. But time passed. She was a nice girl and we were together just 4 weeks. But it was enough to remember her the spring after and I really mean it.
I called her and it was answering machine: "Please leave your message after the tone"... But who puts a message in spring. Spring is the time for momentary passion not putting the message.
My parents were at home. I hadn't seen them for 2 days. I was all the time in my room. My brother was coming to my room, but my parents not. They knew me and they knew that I prefer to be alone. They were so understanding and they are still, although they are older now and of course I'm with more responsibility, if I realize.
I took a shower. I couldn't stand the room anymore. I should go out but where. To that friend? no. To that place? no. I was only thinking about one concept: Katy.
Katy on that time was a student in political science, but we never ever talked about politics. Actually it was only one time that we talked properly and it was the first day that we met. I was in a friend's house having a small gathering and she was there as well. We talked about movies and music and then I got her number.
I don't know actually why I remember this story now. Maybe because my housemate received an unexpected call 2 days ago or maybe because I didn't have a cigarette for the last 3 hours, or maybe because I really want a coffee and I mean it.
I went out without saying anything to my parents. Her house was in walking distance from my parents house. It was in the afternoon and still the mountains was full of snow. I went to her door and did the bravest stuff in my life. I rang the bell.
I heard that somebody is coming down from the stairs. By each step, my heart was falling into my stomach and again coming back to its place somewhere on the left hand side of my body. I was like a yo yo. Moving between spring before somewhere on my desk and the door. Someone open the door. It was her. She couldn't believe that; I as well.
- Hi, what are you doing here?
- I was just passing from your door and I wanted to say hello....Happy new year by the way.
- Oh, after a month!? but thanks.
- What are you doing?
- Nothing, my parents are in vacation. I am home alone.
That was the thing I wanted to hear. All of a sudden I felt that something moving under neat of my under wear. Apparently, the monster woke up after his winter hibernation. She was much better than before.
It was a massive silence for 30 seconds. I thought that "Ali, you have to make a move" and all of a sudden a word came to my brain: Coffee.
- Would you like to have a coffee?
- I had mine just 5 minutes ago, but well, you can come in and have a coffee. The stuffs are on the table.
I jumped in as I conquered the most inaccessible land of the world. I was following her through stairs. She was in a skirt and I could see absolutely everything. Jesus Christ man, this girl is even better than 30 seconds ago.
When we were in the kitchen, the monster was completely awake and looking for a pride.
- How is your life going?
- I didn't know that you are interested in my life.
- Come on Katy, of course I am.
- OK, I've got a new boyfriend. What about you?
Well, what about me? Very good question. After that coffee, which was the last time I met you, I had another coffee and another coffees. But nothing changed Katy. I am still typing a fucking paper, not in Iran but in UK. I am still struggling with myself and my surroundings. Do you remember? you told me you are not gonna be satisfied in your life, because you are always looking up to the sky. I remember clearly you and that night now. We were smoking near the window in your parents house and of course I was looking up to the sky and I was tiered of your lab lab labs.
I don't know what are you doing now. I heard that you graduated a year after the last coffee and you were thinking to go abroad to your brother in Austria. Are you there now?
My desk is not the same desk, my computer as well, my cloths as well. Nothing is the same but I am still the same, in love with the sky and the bullshits over there. I still love the sky Katy, although I got hurt for it a lot but I've enjoyed it as well, quite a lot. I know you didn't love me, and I didn't love you. That's why it has been finished. But I miss you, because it is spring and I am still young and moreover, I really want to have a coffee with you and tell many things to you about the sky and the things that I found there and the things that I lost there, although most probably, you are not interested to hear them. Your are down, on the earth, as you were. That's why I didn't remember you up to now that I really want to have a coffee.
I think I deserve to have at least a coffee with you in this spring and talk about movies and music. Like the first night. I think you also agree with me, don't you? But the problem is that I don't know your address, email, mobile number, nothing. Maybe you are on the other side of Atlantic, or in Iran or even in walking distance again. Does it make any difference? Of course not.
On that day I didn't tell you that I missed you and why I came to your door, because I hadn't missed you. You thought that I was a good one that you know with an innocent concern of saying hello. But now I am mature enough to tell you that I miss you a lot, maybe because I wrote about you. Potentially, last night I could have looked into my magic box, the one that you liked but never touched, and I might have found the first or even the last words that you wrote for me. Most probably you don't remember, I am as well. It was full of complain about me and my irregularities. At the end, you wrote me:
I hope I see you one day coming back to the earth, not for me but for yourself.
I didn't, because I didn't want to have coffee last night and there is also not such a line. You never wrote to me, and I didn't as well. But I've got the message.