"Don't you want to sleep with every woman you see just
once?" - this original, yet slightly retarded sentence comes
out of Charlie's mouth, which is quite typical of him. It is
probably said because of Mia, the friend Nijel has brought
along with him. I specificly told him not to bring any
friends, I hate having people I don't know coming to my
birthday parties, and this goes back to my early childhood
when my mother always invited her friends to my parties.
Any guy you know wouldv'e probably said something in the
spirit of "and not just once, you know" but to me this kind
of shallowness is disgusting and even frustrating. It
reminds me of my past, and thus proves the point of the
likes of Charlie, which is very annoying.
Mia is a tall, black-haired beauty, I could easily fall in
love with her but what's the point in even trying?
As I think of this, the doorbell rings for the thousandth
time this evening. George opens it and some relatives I
don't even want to talk about come in. -"Martin Redheart,
look at you, so grown up!" - oh for crying outloud, I'm 40
years old, people stop their growth a lot earlier than this
age, give me a break! This kind of family crap never ends,
though, nothing you can do about it, really.
When all the guests finally arrive, we sit down for the
feast. All my favorite antipasti is served first: red pepper
in vinegar filled with feta cheese, black caviar and butter
sandwiches, greek green olives. As I chew through the first
course, some unpleasent thoughts come to my mind, the very
same thoughts I've been trying to shake off for the past 28
years. Now is probably the right time to bring them back.
They start and continue consistently, my memory doesn't fail
me even once throughout the process. They say that before a
person dies, his whole life is screened in front of him in
his mind, and this screening is similar. Here I start, at
the age of 12, in a lovely, sunny summer village in southern
Spain, where my family spends the holidays. The water of the
Mediterrainian Sea is sparking with shades of golden colours
as the sun sets slowly in the horizon. Here is the first
significant moment of my life, I see her! Oh, that same
beautiful sunlight melting into her hazel hair, dying her
skin orange! Oh, that light, creamy, soft-looking skin
glowing with the orange of the sun, that also blinds her
eyes! Oh, those deep brown eyes, reflecting everything in
front of them, and yet staring directly at me and through
me... everything is observed by me in that one magical
moment, after which the screening is fast forwarded through
my meeting with her, through all the days we spent together
that summer, through the swims in the sea, through the
running in the woods, and to that first heartbreak, when she
declares: "No, this is not love!" The sadness and the desire
to cry come back to me tonight, despite of all the shouting
and the laughing of the guests, and a ball of wool once
again forms in my throat. I look at Mia but I see Anna, my
first love, brushing her hair back with her hand, walking so
gracefully along the beach. I see her lips move and so
cruelly whisper : "it's not love, it's not love, it's not
love.." Again, the thoughts are fast forwarded, this time
all the way to Julia, my second unfortunate love, then
through Patricia, Helen, Maggie and Diane, through Rachel,
Beatrice, Bridget and Rona, through Fleur, Karen, Sylvia and
Jennie, and on and on and on they drift.
-"It's not understandable, not to me, why did he kill
himself? Why can anyone kill himself?" - they are talking
about that boy who committed suicide and never left even a
note. So I decide to cut in, for the sake of courtesy: "I am
sure he had his good reasons" - everybody stops eating for a
second and looks at me as if iv'e just landed from the moon,
all I meant was he probably had his reasons for committing
suicide, it makes sence, doesn't it?
Without the desired conversational effect, I return to my
thougths, this time they take the route of what I call "the
quest for true love". For a very long time I've been
searching for love, a longing has developed in me and was
only growing stronger and more painful by the hour. For days
I used to walk the streets in search of that love at first
sight, which is so colourfully described in the romantic
classics. However, every time my search fails me, either the
beautiful girl doesn't return my look or the look is empty
and short or the look is long and enjoyable but nothing
happens. Slowly I feel frustration and loss of hope building
up, through the long years of the quest, through the magical
moments and the countless heartbreaks. I call an end to all
this mindlesness. Now, as I've predicted long before, is the
terminal time, when all hope for love is completely lost. If
it didn't happen yet, then it is not to be. I reach my
resolution. By this time I get very tired, I walk up the
steps to my room, yearning for a little solitude. George
will know what to tell the guests, that's his job. I reach
my room and close the door behind me.
   Mia watched Martin disappear up the steps. She
immidiately turned to Nijel and said: "You are right, I do
like him, I think this is love at first sight! Nothing like
this has ever happened to me before!" - "Wow, how wonderful,
I've known Martin for years and this could be the best thing
that happens to him in his whole life, exactly what he
needs."- replied Nijel. Mia ran her hand through her hair,
got up and excused herself. She walked up the steps to
Martin's room and opened the door. The wind from the open
window blew into her face, she looked around the room.
Strange, she could have sworn Martin had gone up to his
room, she could have sworn... a ladies scream shatters the
quiet, nocturnal humming of the crickets outside.