Dialogue in the mirror

Dialogue in the mirror

An exasperatedly raised eyebrow raises, if that was even possible, even more, while Caroline examines critically her own image in the mirror. It’s early in the morning, she has just woken up with a fixed thought. No, her eyebrow seems to tell her, it’s not a thought, silly, it’s a feeling. Oh, hush, Caroline says. It’s too early now for me to even make the difference. I haven’t even had my coffee yet, and you know I can’t even dream of thinking before my morning coffee.

A mute dialogue, made from raisings – of her eyebrow – and her inner replies to this damned right eyebrow. Now that’s annoying, Caroline thinks, while still in front of the mirror. What’s annoying – and her right eyebrow raises another little bit. You’re annoying. First of all, stop raising! You’re going to reach my forehead. Second, why on earth do you raise and the left one doesn’t? You two make me look like a clown, she mumbles, and decides to stop talking to her right eyebrow.

It is Sunday, she thinks, and almost everybody in the house is on holidays, so she has the entire house for herself. Why, isn’t that marvellous? And she smiles, and her eyes drop to the mirror, where her reflected image says hello…with a raised eyebrow. Oh, not again, Caroline rolls her eyes, and turns her back to the evil mirror.

Now, what was it that woke me up, she whispers to herself. A dream! Yes, but not an ordinary one. She dreamt of Leo. She doesn’t even have to see herself in the mirror to know her eyes are glowing, and her lips are smiling. A wide bright happy smile. What are you so happy about? Here it goes, her smile fades away as quick as it had appeared because of this intrusive inner voice, very well interpreted and underlined by the raising – again?! – of her none the less than her right eyebrow. Now a veil of sadness passes through her eyes. I can’t fake it, I have to admit your question is only licit, she says. Yes, well, since Leo has not answered her questions yet. Ever since she has opened to him, telling him their virtual story – or liaison, as she liked to call it, à la française – is not enough for her anymore, he…he has just not reacted the way she would have wished he did.

I told him I had never known a man like him, that I think about him every day. And I ‘ve never wanted so much to meet anyone else in person as now. As him. So what if he lives in the USA and I live in the UK? Oh, the distance issue, Leo had said. Oh dear, Caroline had answered to him, people have migrating ever since the beginning of humanity! We live in the era of technology; there are planes, for Christ’s sake! It’s not like you live on damned Mars.

Oh yes, she got angry and said even those words she usually doesn’t say. And ever since, Caroline’s fixed thought has been: have I exaggerated? Was I too much for him to handle with my coming out? She has, of course, thousands of other thoughts , and her mind has become something like the connections a computer would make on a basic routine. Caroline knows, when and if she wants to admit it to herself, that only a couple of things really matter in this situation. One of these is her doubt that Leo might have just played with his words – and, of course, her feelings – all the times he had said he loved her over the last two years. No, wait, all the times he has said it. Leo keeps on telling me he loves me. ‘Do you know I love you?’ or ‘Do you have any idea how much I love you?’, he’d say.

Caroline’s mouth plays a smile on her face. The smile doesn’t touch her eyes, sadly. How can a man be so sweet, and supportive, and caring, and, yes, dammit it, gorgeous, and call me love, and reach my soul when we haven’t met in person? Well, her right eyebrow interferes, you were supposed to meet up last year, remember? When he was in Milan, only one hour away by car. And what did you do, huh? Now tell me what did you choose to do? Ha, well, I know I deceived him by choosing not to go. But I had my reasons and you know pretty well how things were going on in my life at the time. Yes, I do. And so does he, I told him, Caroline replies bitterly and angrily. Now you go and make man understand that for you it was impossible at the time – and the right eyebrow raises again.

Caroline looks at her reflection in the mirror and decides to try and raise the left one as well. She already knows that this one is immobile, as if it were sewn on her skin. Pffff, she says and there she goes rolling her eyes. Mmmmm, no wonder he replies to an almost ‘impossible’ to your suggestion to meet up in person. I know, and Caroline almost sobs, I know. Leo told me many times he cannot forgive me for letting him down in Italy last year. He went even further and texted me last week:

‘I can’t stop wondering where we would be, if we had met last summer in Milan.’

Damn, girl, what have you done? Oh, but that’s not even all. Caroline’s great-great, the greatest doubt concerns herself. What if, she doesn’t almost dare to allow herself to think of it, what if he said yes to all her suggestions? To book a flight, his from Texas to London or anywhere else in Europe to finally meet up. Because no, and Caroline shakes her head strongly, as a confirmation to her thread of thoughts, the meeting can only take place in Europe. I’m not flying to the States, no no, Caroline says no stubbornly to herself. It’s a mater of pride for her. Well, it is! Like me or hate me. Yes, or leave you, the eyebrow is winking at her. Huh, what! Noooo! Caroline passes her right hand over her face as to scare this horrible idea away.

Imagine him saying yes, she says to herself as a mantra. Saying yes to…ehm, the rest? To make a decision, if things were to be ok after the first date. And maybe, why not, to move in together lately and be a family. With children. Ouch, the thought of him saying yes to all this makes me… Makes me what? It scares the hell out of me, that’s what it does. Now, you see, the raised eyebrow is really out of its place here, you asked him to give you an answer to something you for one don’t know if you really want to happen. Oh, give me a break, I did tell him last year I intended to leave Italy, and here I am, in London! Oh, yeah? And what does this have to do with my statement? Argh, Caroline mutters, why am I still in front of the mirror? And why am I speaking to a super annoying eyebrow? Because my partner here can’t raise, that’s why you’re talking to me.

Caroline flaps her index finger to the raised eyebrow from the mirror and to her crazy head as well. What am I going to do? She gives a shy smile that makes her freckles dance on her round moon-like face as that was pretty much what Leo had told her the other day, when she unblocked him on messenger. ‘What am I going to do with you?’ She shakes her head, as to make this thought disappear. Too much to handle. The messenger block and then unblock is another story.

Leo texted her then, for a couple of times, ‘Caroline, what are we going to do?’. I wish I knew, Leo, I wish I knew! What she replied to him was: ‘Live me, live me, have the courage to live me for the moment. And make your way to me, Leo. And let’s make love.’

He has told her numerous times he loves and craves her. Caroline is not a word-girl, even if she likes words, she is a rather creative young woman. So, I haven’t actually told him I love him, until a week ago, when I unblocked him on messenger. And it might have been because I had had a few drinks more than I should have, like three glasses of whiskey – and she blushes. Caroline is not fond of alcoholic drinks, except for the beer during summer and wine in winter. Moderately.

Oh, but now, now Caroline woke up with this feeling. And she’s not a word-girl, she’s a woman of action, as her Facebook cover clearly states: ‘I don’t trust words, I trust actions.’ Oh really, you patronize me about my Eastern European side all the time, saying that I am pessimistic and don’t trust people easily and that I am too bloody proud to let go of my ego and surprise you? Oh boy, sweetie pie, are you going to be surprised! Hell, you are! And she grabs her laptop, while her eyes catch a satisfied right raised eyebrow reflected in the mirror.