RED: A Love Story [Featured List]

Part 2: Black 8 - Miracle fruit

"What about the red anthuriums?" Marisa asked as soon as she lay down on the divan.

Doctor Spitzer's raised an eyebrow, and her expression became as hermetic as a vacuum-packed cigar box. Sometimes a cigar was just a cigar, like Freud would presumably say. Or was it...? Doctor Spitzer acted quite enigmatic that day, plus she wore a surprisingly electric-blue suit. Not to mention her scarpino shoes were white.

"Later," she retorted with a note of impatience. "First I want to know more details about the teacher."

"Well..." Marisa stared at the ceiling. "The whole class dreaded him. He was always in a sour mood. He would fill the white board with those physics formulas no one understood-"

The psychoanalyst interrupted Marisa with her usual assertiveness:

"Physics formulas? I was under the impression he taught literature."

Marisa stirred and shifted position. In her daydream, the physics teacher with his gray moustache gave room to the vision of Marco before the white board...

"Oh... Marco... I'm still in love with him, doctor. It's just beyond my control. I've made out with some guys from college but always end up finding them dull. Life with Marco had morecolor, you know what I mean?"

Marisa couldn't erase from her memory their last encounter. Marco's gaze told her everything even before he spoke: it was best if they stopped seeing each other. And then her body turned into a dead weight plummeting from a cliff. I don't want to cause you more family problems, Mari. Moreover, the age gap between us will create divergences. I'm very fond of you, but I'm not the right man for you. I've got scars...

And he said that she was wonderful and he admired her greatly. That he felt sorry they couldn't be together and was jealous of the man who would succeed in giving her everything she deserved and he was unable to give. He spoke with extreme tact. It did nothing to ease the pain. Marisa couldn't understand how things changed that way. It was as if she had never existed in this life.

Marco returned her belongings: clothes left in the apartment, a toothbrush, the strass collar. He put everything in a cardboard box and handed it to the porter in her building. Marisa got rid of the collar, along with Marco's gifts: poetry collections, CDs, a white lacy top, a black lingerie set. She didn't muster the courage to part with the filigree ring and put it away in her closet last drawer, where the sweaters were kept.

The drawer remained untouched. It was finally opened when winter arrived. Sweaters left it, returned, some left again. The last garment from the pile, however, crystallized on the bottom of the drawer and never shifted. It was a shroud. Under it, rested the ring.

Inside Marisa, the days were quiet. And outside, wherever she looked, she saw echoes of Marco- one day, upon seeing a street cart selling jabuticabas, Marisa broke into tears. She needed to reclaim life without his marks. Make it her own again. Her own. Not theirs.

Except for the ring, nothing was left. She ripped off cards and notes, deleted emails and the smiley photo taken in his kitchen-she behind a bunch of herbs, he with a grater in his hand. She couldn't stand the irony of the words and that smile now devoid of meaning. Marisa erased all physical trace of Marco's presence. The only thing she couldn't erase was the invisible trace that lingered within her.

Marco never contacted her again. At first she couldn't help but make up excuses to call him. Marco always acted solicitous. But he had changed. On those occasions, they would talk with a distant politeness that was much worse than no contact. Marisa stopped calling.

"It was all too sudden. Since he decided to break up, I feel like a shadow... Valentina says he's an idiot and I'm a bigger idiot because I keep thinking of him. She's right. I can't help it though. I wonder if I did something wrong, if he left me for another woman... I'm sure the situation with my mom was the last straw," Marisa stuttered as her eyes blurred. "Oh, doctor, I've never been in love with anyone like this."