ICly locked and in Russian
I met Natalie again today, for the first time since what I did, and she did not recognise me, or remember that occasion. Should I have told her so that my apology would have more meaning to her, or is it better that I did not make her recall what I did? It pains me to admit that it was my own -- what? Fear? Cowardice? -- that kept me from telling her: I did not want to bring up that memory or lower myself in her eyes if forgetfulness would let me conceal what I have done. Such concealment, such deception, they repulse me. They make a liar of me, something I have no wish to be.
And yet, I did her no harm; she refused me and I left her, I did not try anything. She said herself that she would have remembered if I had done anything that would warrant apologising, and so as she judges it, I am not in the wrong.
Why can I not shake this feeling, then, that I committed some horrible misdemeanour in not telling her?
I would have before, I know it. Before all of this, I would have admitted to even the smallest of transgressions against a complete stranger. Now I simply wanted to save myself the upset that telling her could have caused, more upset and loss of face on top of everything that I am experiencing at the moment. It truly can be nothing short of cowardice.
Has this changed me even more than I realised before?
26 January 2007
The White Room
The weather is dull and dingy, and time today is passing with a slow quality that seems reluctant to move on. Piotr is avoiding the coffee shops on campus, and so he has driven into the city proper, bought a cup of welcome coffee, drunk it, and is now staring at an empty cup. There is an hour still to go until he has somewhere else to be. He glances indecisively over at his bag, and then back at the stained bottom of his cup.
Natalie is here to work. This is no surprise - she is always in coffee shops to work. Today, she has a new laptop tucked into her bag and is fresh-faced and, if not exactly chipper, alert. Her hair is pulled back in her typical ponytail, glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, and her free hand tugs at her scarf as she enters the shop. It doesn't take her long to order or to receive her simple cup of coffee. In fact,it takes longer for her to search the small shop, squinting at those occupying tables in the hopes of catching one that's both free and near an elusive electric outlet.
The new arrival catches Piotr's eyes, and they widen to show white around his irises as he recognises her before hooding again somewhat as his breath hitches in his chest. He stands quickly, a slightly awkward movement as he is kept from pushing his chair back quite as far as he would like by the wall behind him, and offers to the searching Natalie, "I am done here, if you would like this table."
Natalie squints at Piotr for a moment, catching his reaction and seeking recognition somewhere in her own faulty brain. It sparks a few pathetic synapses and then fails, leaving her to shift her weight uncertainly, one hand grasping at the strap of her bag, and ask, "Do I know you from somewhere? You look kinda familiar."
A tiny cough mumffles a further awkward movement from Piotr as he steps out from between the chair and the table, fidgeting one hand slightly in the palm of the other as he looks away from Natalie, admitting, "We have met. I was-- quite out of sorts at the time. I apologise for I acted."
Natalie squints at Piotr for a moment, gaze sweeping across him in firm judgment before she lifts her hand from her bag to wave it, dismissing with that one easy gesture. "If I don't remember, it can't have been that bad, huh? You in sorts now?"
"Yes, much more so, thank you," Piotr replies with a quick nod and a smile that shows a surprising gratitude for such a small quirk of the lips. "Still, I am sorry." He edges towards the door, finally making it into the path between the tables, giving himself enough room to move. "Have a good day."
"Good," Natalie answers, smile quick and brilliant as it flashes toward Piotr in thanks while she tugs her bag off and swings it onto the emptied table. "Hey, thanks. You too."
One last nod and Piotr is off, long strides carrying him through the small, crowded room towards the door and the search for people he has not recently caused offence to, whether they remember it or not.
Piotr runs into Natalie while hiding from Jubilee. He just can't catch a break. (a six in nine poses)
And yet, I did her no harm; she refused me and I left her, I did not try anything. She said herself that she would have remembered if I had done anything that would warrant apologising, and so as she judges it, I am not in the wrong.
Why can I not shake this feeling, then, that I committed some horrible misdemeanour in not telling her?
I would have before, I know it. Before all of this, I would have admitted to even the smallest of transgressions against a complete stranger. Now I simply wanted to save myself the upset that telling her could have caused, more upset and loss of face on top of everything that I am experiencing at the moment. It truly can be nothing short of cowardice.
Has this changed me even more than I realised before?
26 January 2007
The White Room
The weather is dull and dingy, and time today is passing with a slow quality that seems reluctant to move on. Piotr is avoiding the coffee shops on campus, and so he has driven into the city proper, bought a cup of welcome coffee, drunk it, and is now staring at an empty cup. There is an hour still to go until he has somewhere else to be. He glances indecisively over at his bag, and then back at the stained bottom of his cup.
Natalie is here to work. This is no surprise - she is always in coffee shops to work. Today, she has a new laptop tucked into her bag and is fresh-faced and, if not exactly chipper, alert. Her hair is pulled back in her typical ponytail, glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, and her free hand tugs at her scarf as she enters the shop. It doesn't take her long to order or to receive her simple cup of coffee. In fact,it takes longer for her to search the small shop, squinting at those occupying tables in the hopes of catching one that's both free and near an elusive electric outlet.
The new arrival catches Piotr's eyes, and they widen to show white around his irises as he recognises her before hooding again somewhat as his breath hitches in his chest. He stands quickly, a slightly awkward movement as he is kept from pushing his chair back quite as far as he would like by the wall behind him, and offers to the searching Natalie, "I am done here, if you would like this table."
Natalie squints at Piotr for a moment, catching his reaction and seeking recognition somewhere in her own faulty brain. It sparks a few pathetic synapses and then fails, leaving her to shift her weight uncertainly, one hand grasping at the strap of her bag, and ask, "Do I know you from somewhere? You look kinda familiar."
A tiny cough mumffles a further awkward movement from Piotr as he steps out from between the chair and the table, fidgeting one hand slightly in the palm of the other as he looks away from Natalie, admitting, "We have met. I was-- quite out of sorts at the time. I apologise for I acted."
Natalie squints at Piotr for a moment, gaze sweeping across him in firm judgment before she lifts her hand from her bag to wave it, dismissing with that one easy gesture. "If I don't remember, it can't have been that bad, huh? You in sorts now?"
"Yes, much more so, thank you," Piotr replies with a quick nod and a smile that shows a surprising gratitude for such a small quirk of the lips. "Still, I am sorry." He edges towards the door, finally making it into the path between the tables, giving himself enough room to move. "Have a good day."
"Good," Natalie answers, smile quick and brilliant as it flashes toward Piotr in thanks while she tugs her bag off and swings it onto the emptied table. "Hey, thanks. You too."
One last nod and Piotr is off, long strides carrying him through the small, crowded room towards the door and the search for people he has not recently caused offence to, whether they remember it or not.
Piotr runs into Natalie while hiding from Jubilee. He just can't catch a break. (a six in nine poses)