As I take a sip of water, the liquid goes in the wrong pipe and split it all over trying to free my airways. My hands are shaking, my heart is racing. But it was not the water chocking me. There was something else, a realization hitting me like a thunder: we were sitting in front of each other. One day the chair was cluttered with books, we were both hungry and in a hurry and he used the other chair. The books stayed on the chair for ages. After several months they were finally gone. But we are still sitting in front of each other at the dinner table, now. How is it possible? We used to sit at the same side of the table, sharing the view, enlacing our hands on one of our laps, occasionally kissing. We were on the same side. Two years later, we are two people sitting in front of each. Because we cannot bear sitting so close anymore. We used to turn our heads to kiss, now we turn our heads to avoid each other’s eyes. I guess it is my fault, but maybe it’s his fault. I suspect he thinks that, because he avoids looking at my face unless I speak to him. Which I seldom do, nowadays. Did he do something worse than I did? But then, is there something worse than cheating while pretending I am not? I would be delighted to know that he did something bad, so that I don’t have to feel so horrible alone. We would at least be companion in loathing ourselves and find again our oneness by sinking together.

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