A neat woman was sitting on a white chair, looking down at the floor. I knew her. I was happy to see her. I called her name and walked closer. But she didn’t look up, lost in deep thought. I called her again. She glanced at me, then quickly moved to a black chair near the entrance. I followed her to that chair. But she suddenly stood up and left the room.
Why is she acting like that? I stood there, confused. Then I sat on the black chair she had left behind.
She was avoiding me. At that moment, I realized our relationship was only in my head. I remembered all the things I said and did to get closer to her. For a second, I felt bad, but then I felt free. Why did it feel so good to be done with her? Her rejection saved my time and energy. I even felt thankful that she helped me clean up and let go. I smiled while looking around the now-empty space.
I left the empty room and went into the next one. A woman I knew was sitting on a red, heart-shaped chair. She was someone I didn’t like. But when she saw me, she smiled warmly. She said she was waiting to see me.
I remembered once telling her all the reasons I didn’t want to run into her. Why would someone wait for a person who doesn’t like them? Is it, “Even if you hate me, I’ll do what I want”? Or is it, “You’re mean, but I’m a generous person, so I’ll forgive you”?
Please, don’t forgive me. Why do you smile kindly like a saint when I said I didn’t like you? Don’t hold on to me—go give your kindness to others who deserve it. Just say, “I don’t like you either,” and leave me alone.
I woke up from the dream, laughing to myself in the middle of the night as I wrote it down.
I don’t like serious, philosophical gatherings or fancy, elegant ones. I prefer light, fun meetings where we laugh and chat freely. Discussions full of philosophical terms just confuse my mind at my age, and I don’t even want to remember or talk about those things. Elegant and graceful groups make me uncomfortable too. I don’t have the looks, words, or personality to fit in with that kind of crowd.
The only thing I can talk about a bit is funny everyday stories. But usually, people don’t respond, and I end up laughing alone like a silly person. Sometimes, I even go too far and hurt someone’s feelings. I feel sorry when that happens and promise myself to be careful, but I often repeat the same mistake.
When I drink a little and happen to meet someone funny, I have a great time. On those days, I feel full of endorphins, and all my stress melts away. My body feels light.
Has the world changed while I’m still stuck in the past? Or are the people I meet these days just too serious? I’m not sure.
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