I was lying on my back in bed, the oppressive silence of the room amplifying the chaotic whirlwind of thoughts that relentlessly assailed me. My mind drilled me with unanswered questions, my heart ached with a dull throb of longing and uncertainty, and dark doubts furrowed my consciousness like unsettling shadows that refused to dissipate.
I felt hopelessly confused, lost in a labyrinth of contradictory emotions that pulled me in opposite directions. I had only shared three years of my life with Josephine, but in that intense period, her vibrant and unique personality had managed to captivate every fiber of my being, leaving an indelible mark on my soul. Her cute and peculiar way of being, her radiant smile that seemed to illuminate any room, the countless beautiful memories we had shared, from shared laughter to secrets whispered in each other's ears... everything had been burned into my memory, like an invisible but permanent tattoo.
But I also remembered with painful clarity our heated discussions, our constant and sometimes absurd fights in the bustling classroom. We were like cats and dogs, clashing every so often for the most trivial reasons, but always somehow finding our way back to each other, a tacit reconciliation that seemed inevitable. My classmates, with the simplistic but sometimes accurate wisdom of early adolescence, always declared with an air of self-importance: "Those who fight are the ones who love." And now, immersed in this agonizing uncertainty, I wondered with a pang of hope if they were right, if behind our childish disputes something deeper was hidden.
I vividly remember that time, not long ago, when Brianna and Josephine playfully cornered me in the school hallway, their eyes shining with contagious mischief, insistently asking if I liked someone. They chased me amidst resounding laughter all over the playground during recess, their cheerful voices filling the fresh afternoon air. And I always found a way to catch Josephine in the middle of the chase, to tickle her until her cheeks flushed and to hear her contagious laughter that seemed to melt away any trace of bad mood. I loved that laugh of hers, her overflowing and genuine joy, her unique way of illuminating any room with her mere presence.
But then, when the bell announced the end of classes and we were heading to the exit, I told them without hesitation that the person I liked was Anna. At that moment, it was the truth; Anna had always seemed attractive to me, ever since I met her. But, just like now with Josephine, I never had enough courage to approach her and confess my budding feelings.
I never knew for sure if Brianna and Josephine told Anna about my timid confessions. I only noticed a subtle change in Anna's behavior; she suddenly got closer to me than usual, seeking my company frequently, until I dared to ask her if she wanted to be my girlfriend, but she refused to accept me, she rejected me.
Then, time followed its relentless course, and I began to know Josephine in a deeper and more meaningful way. I began to understand perfectly why Josep, one of our most observant friends, said with conviction that she was "something else," someone special and different from everyone else. Her magnetic personality, her overflowing energy that infected everyone around her, her unique and optimistic way of seeing life... everything about her attracted me irresistibly, like a powerful magnet. I began to like her intensely, to powerfully draw my attention to the point of obsession, but I stubbornly refused to accept what my heart was already beginning to feel strongly.
We spent many incredibly beautiful moments together, full of laughter and complicity, although sometimes, for some incomprehensible reason, I treated her with childish indifference and we argued like little children over the most insignificant trifles. But, despite our differences and our silly fights, we always ended up looking for each other, as if an invisible and undeniable force tied us with a resistant thread. Until one day, I finally confirmed it without a doubt: Anna no longer meant anything special to me. Now, the only person I couldn't get out of my head, the one who occupied every one of my thoughts and dreams, was her, Josephine.
But, just as had happened to me at the beginning with Anna, I didn't dare to confess my true feelings to Josephine. Fear completely paralyzed me, preventing me from taking that brave step that my heart longed for. I settled for her friendship, for our lively discussions, for our shared games and jokes. But inside me, a volcano of intense emotions threatened to erupt at any moment.
Her melodious laughter constantly resonated in my mind, her radiant smile illuminated my darkest thoughts, her vibrant presence filled the awkward silences with a contagious energy. But fear, that damn youthful insecurity that tormented me, continued to prevent me from taking the decisive step. I settled for our silly arguments, for her mischievous games, for the warmth of her friendship. But inside me, a volcano of powerful emotions threatened to erupt.
I clearly remember the day of our elementary school graduation, when we were barely eleven years old. She was absolutely beautiful, truth be told. With her neatly arranged school uniform and that cascade of almost golden curls falling like soft waves over her beautiful, slightly tanned skin. That particular day, driven by a sudden courage and the imminent possibility of not seeing her again after that day, I finally decided to confess my hidden feelings, risking the possibility of a painful rejection.
But right at that magical moment, as if fate were playing a cruel trick, her parents appeared. And in that fleeting instant, observing them carefully, I realized that they were not ordinary people, they did not belong to our same social circle, to our modest status. Their innate elegance, their distinguished bearing, their slow and refined way of speaking... everything about them differentiated them abysmally from the other parents we knew. I suddenly felt small, insignificant, like an insect incapable of approaching an exotic flower.
Between one thing and another, between nervousness and the sudden feeling of inferiority, on that very special day I couldn't articulate a single word, I couldn't confess my feelings. Fear overcame me at the last second, insecurity completely paralyzed me, leaving me mute and frustrated. I settled for her sweet smile, for the fleeting crossing of our gazes, clinging to the faint hope that someday, perhaps, she would intuit what my heart was silently screaming.
A year later, the long-awaited farewell party for the summer vacation arrived, a lively pool party that our teachers had lovingly organized to celebrate the start of the holidays with us. I was really excited, eager to spend an unforgettable day surrounded by my friends, but especially thrilled by the prospect of sharing special moments with Josephine. However, a few days before the celebration, a stupid accident on a motorcycle left me with my leg burned and wrapped in bandages.
The physical pain was unbearable, sharp and constant, but the disappointment that overwhelmed me was even worse, a deep sadness that weighed on my chest. I was going to miss the party, the opportunity to be close to Josephine, to finally tell her the words I had kept for so long. I felt terribly frustrated, powerless against the cruel twist of fate, as if life itself were mocking my longings.
From my bed, with my foot bandaged and my heart inexplicably broken, I imagined Josephine laughing carefree, dancing under the sun, enjoying the party in the company of our friends. I even imagined her with another boy, someone braver than me, someone who had dared to approach her and confess his feelings before she left.
A blind rage invaded me, a bitter resentment against fate. Why had this happened to me precisely? Why had luck so cruelly snatched away the opportunity to be with her on that important day? I felt alone, abandoned by fortune, as if the whole world had conspired against me.
My parents, understandably, didn't want to take me to the party in that sorry state, but I needed to go, I needed to see her. I insisted stubbornly until, finally, on the very day of the party, past noon, they decided to take me even if only for a short while. And there I saw her, as beautiful as ever, her smile illuminating everything around her. She was chatting animatedly with Brianna. I greeted her timidly, our gazes met for a fleeting instant, and as soon as her eyes fell on my bandaged leg, she ran towards where I was sitting, with Brianna following closely with a worried expression on her face. She hugged me gently and asked me with genuine anguish what had happened. We talked at length, the three of us together, and it was precisely at that unexpected moment, driven by an imperious need, that I finally dared to confess my long-repressed feelings.
And to my surprise and amazement, her cheeks turned a beautiful crimson color, she lowered her head with an adorable shyness, and smiled so slightly, her beautiful dark hair falling over her face like a cascade. She looked absolutely adorable and irresistible. And then, in a soft and barely audible voice, she told me that she liked me too, that she hadn't dared to say anything before because I had confessed that I liked Anna.
I felt as if time itself stopped around us. A warm wave of pure joy completely overwhelmed me, coursing through every cell of my body. She liked me too? After all this time of doubts and silences, after all my paralyzing insecurities, she felt the same way about me too?
I told her with passionate urgency to leave that misunderstanding in the past, that the only person who really mattered to me, the one who occupied every one of my thoughts, was her, Josephine, and that when I had said the thing about Anna, I was simply confused and scared. The world around us seemed to fade away, as if only she and I existed in a bubble of nascent happiness. I timidly asked her to be my girlfriend, and she accepted with a radiant smile that illuminated my universe. Right there, in front of our best friend, Brianna, who looked at us with a mixture of surprise and joy, we promised to have a beautiful and pure love, a healthy and respectful love. Only soft kisses on the cheek, only light warm hugs, only holding hands tenderly. We promised to trust each other unconditionally, we promised never to drift apart, we promised to experience together what true love was in a healthy and age-appropriate way. We made many sincere promises that we solemnly swore to keep.
And so, almost immediately, they called her to get changed, as it was already time for her to go home. I felt a painful lump in my throat when we said goodbye with the promise to see each other again at Brianna's house throughout the summer vacation. We weren't going to separate, we were finally going to be together.
But life, capricious and unpredictable, had other very different plans for us. The summer vacation arrived completely, and with it, Josephine's inexplicable and painful absence. The promises we made with such illusion vanished into thin air like smoke in the distance. Cold and paralyzing uncertainty seized me, and dark doubts began to gnaw at my heart with relentless voracity.
That fateful day when we went to look for her at her house and learned the devastating news that her parents had taken her to Paris without prior notice... I firmly believed what her kind housekeeper had told us, but I can't keep fooling myself.
Maybe Anna is right in everything she has insisted on so far. I am terribly confused, deeply hurt, and furiously annoyed with myself for having doubted Josephine, for having taken so long to confess what I really felt. It was precious time lost irretrievably. But I am also annoyed with her, for her inexplicable silence, for not having made even a simple call, even if it had been from the phone in that enormous Parisian mansion to Brianna's father. I don't know what to do. Anna's poisonous words have sown a corrosive doubt in my mind, because, as painful as it is to admit, she may be right about everything she says...
Impotent rage and bitter frustration mix inside me, creating a painful cocktail that slowly consumes me. Why hasn't Josephine contacted us? Why has she left us mired in this agonizing uncertainty? Do we not matter to her at all?
I feel like a complete idiot, like a pathetic dreamer desperately clinging to a vain and probably non-existent hope. How could I have been so naive as to blindly believe her promises? How could I have thought even for a moment that our budding love was real and significant to her?
But at the same time, I feel a sharp pang of pain in my chest, a deep and paralyzing sadness that invades me mercilessly. What if Anna is wrong in her cruel judgments? What if Josephine really loves us, Brianna and me? What if there is a logical and valid explanation for her prolonged silence?
Confusion torments me relentlessly, like an implacable specter. I don't know who to believe, I don't know what to think. I feel like a ship adrift in the middle of a storm, without a rudder or compass, lost in a dark and infinite sea of corrosive doubts.
The oppressive silence of the night envelops me with its dark cloak, but in my tormented mind, the echo of our promises of love resonates with a painful force. And in the midst of that persistent echo, a crucial question continues to torment me relentlessly: What should I do now? Should I continue to wait for someone who may never return? Should I finally accept the harsh and discouraging reality that Anna has shown me with such insistence?
In my mind, the persistent echo of our shared laughter, our childish fights, our meaningful conversations under the afternoon sun, resonates with a force that prevents me from finding peace.
Frustration washed over me like a suffocating heatwave. Why the hell had I been so cowardly, so indecisive? Why hadn't I dared to tell her what I really felt in that magical moment of our graduation? Now, the piercing reality hit me hard: maybe it was too late. Maybe, in that distant and unknown world of Paris, Josephine had already found someone else, someone more self-assured, someone who had had the courage to love her openly and without hesitation.
The cruel image of Josephine with another boy, laughing carefree, enjoying life in a city I could only imagine, tormented me mercilessly. A whirlwind of bitter jealousy, impotent rage, and a piercing sense of loss seized me. Why hadn't I been that special someone in her life? Why hadn't I fought with more determination for her, for what we felt?
I got out of bed abruptly, my gaze lost in the oppressive darkness of my room, feeling inexplicably alone. I desperately needed answers. I needed to know the truth behind her silence, behind her absence.
I took my cell phone with a trembling hand, the screen dimly illuminating my anguished face. I hesitated for an eternal instant, my index finger hovering over the screen, torn between hope and fear.
But no matter how hard I tried with all my might, no matter how much my fingers trembled on the illuminated screen and my heart beat with desperate urgency, I didn't dare to press the call button. Fear, that old paralyzing acquaintance, gripped me once again, silencing the words I so desperately needed to utter. The uncertainty on the other side of the line, the possibility of hearing something I didn't want to hear, kept me immobile, a prisoner of my own anguish. The phone remained glued to my ear, an inert object that failed to break the oppressive silence of the night.