When a World Ends II: The Spy

Posted: September 30, 2010 in Personal, Relationships, When a World Ends: The Series

Second entry: The Spy

Ohhhh you . . . You flipped my life upside down,
inside out, irrational and unwise.  I might be writing this due to my recent brush with Miss Congeniality or the recent mishaps with Miss Beautiful Disaster, but in reality your spirit is behind any creativity in this post.  Aside from the fact that you introduced me to “The Face Book”, back when no one knew what it was, no other human has inspired me to write so affectionately as much as you have.  Short and sweet it was, maybe it meant nothing to little to you, but for me the impact was impeccably sensational.  Only a couple of months long, with long winded “love” letters travelling back and forth, flying to  random cities to live the moment, laying in bed, sharing headphones, consuming the lavish room-service main course with our young hands instead the cutlery we dropped on the floor a few minutes before.

Come to think of it, I won that battle of the roses.  My letters in the end trumped yours, and you stopped putting as much effort in them, even though you continued on calling.  Maybe it was because calls where not recorded like our words were, maybe its due to the fact that I spent hours on hours in sleepless night to craft those letters?  You did not have the time, you were young and on a mission, I was wrapping up mine and getting ready to start a stable life.  Six years later, I see you.  You are older, you are wiser, you are less of a loose canon, yet your eyes are the same and your heart isn’t.

For some reason, it is much easier to write about you,  maybe its the comfort that I have all our letters saved, or perhaps that I know that you are the one that doesn’t hold a grudge against me.  What ever it is, it made it easier to write you up first.

Way back then, in the hotel room, in the Rome of this century we told jokes:

The Spy: “What is one Palestinian in the sea?” . . .”Polution”.  “What is all Palestinians in the sea?”  . . . “Solution”

The Strict Machine: “Well . . . How many Jews can you fit in a BMW”.  “Two in the front, two in the back seat, and 96 in the ashtray”

We laugh. We sleep. We are gone the next day. Forever gone.

Next episode will discuss the one and only, The Vixen . . .


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