A Man, a Girl, a Deserted Island - an Epic Love Hate Saga

Episode 47: I Am a Poor Pedicurist

I watched the cigarette smoke swirl and twist, forming lively curls around my fingers. My mind, in turn, was swirling, rising and falling, imagining all sorts of possible scenarios.

I had found her. Only at that moment did I realize how much I had been searching for her. I had been searching for her for years without even realizing it, and now she was found.

But what next? How were things going to unfold? What was I supposed to do?

"You really are suffering, aren't you?" Alfredo's voice came from somewhere, very far away.

I started and looked up at him.

"What did you say?"

"I said if you haven't touched the beer in front of you, it means you're suffering like hell!" he replied, looking at me attentively.

I briefly told him what was on my mind. I had no one else to tell.

To tell my mother? Out of the question. To tell my father? Ha, ha! He would laugh at me with his mouth wide open.

"Tiberiu, your trust honors me," my friend said, smiling. "What are you planning to do next?"

"I have no idea!" I shrugged. "That's exactly what I was just thinking about. It's a total fog in my head. What would you do?"

Alfredo sprinkled a few grains of salt on the rim of his beer mug, took a calm sip, then looked at me with pity.

"When you love someone," he lectured me gently, "you have to tell them. Tell them how you feel."

"Are you crazy?" I jumped, scared. "No way! Just thinking about it... uh. I don't know. The simple idea of talking to her freezes me. I'm scared!"

"I know," he smiled. "But you have to use this!" he added, leaning across the table. He touched my forehead with his finger.

I moved my head away, annoyed by his friendly but totally misplaced gesture.

"I prefer to endure and stay silent, Alfredo. At least for a while. After that... we'll see."

He looked at me, and the message in his eyes was as clear as it could be.

"Don't keep this inside, Tiberiu. You have to act. Do something! Unconfessed love is the heaviest burden a soul can carry. It becomes poison. It can cripple you. It drains your strength, keeps you from eating, it destroys you. Go to her, confess your love, and get rid of this burden once and for all."

"That's nonsense from your romance books," I snorted irritably. "Reality is different. I'm not living in a damned book, Alfredo! I can't just go up to her like an idiot and say, 'Hey, I love you!'"

"Of course not. She'd think you're out of your mind if you did that. Instead, you can go up to her to greet her. Just go up to her and say, 'Hi!'"

Alfredo finished his beer and signaled the waiter to bring him another. Mine was still on the table, almost untouched.

"You can do it, and you must do it," he concluded curtly.

I sighed. It was clear to me that not even my friend, my only friend, understood me.

"Do you always do that, Alfredo?" I asked him sadly. "Do you always confess your love?"

"Yes," he said, looking me in the eye.

"And does it work out every time?"

"No. Sometimes I get slapped. But I always talk to the people I'm interested in and tell them what's on my mind. Well, not always. There's one exception to that rule."