“I don’t know what you see in her. She listens to pop music, likes to go dancing at the weekend and plays beach volleyball. She has literally nothing in common with you. Or are you going to adapt and start clubbing now? She just seems like your average nice little girly. You better hope I never come across her, because I could mop the floor with her.”
“Come on, please be nice.”
“I will be nice, for your sake. But I swear, if she ever hurts you or makes you unhappy, there will be blood.”
I had done something very stupid during the conference: I had peaked at his phone while he had been writing to her and found out the full name of the girl he was dating. I had checked out her facebook profile while still in the train on my way home. Still on the same day, when I had driven to my future hometown to bring some stuff to the new house, I sat down on the stairs of the dark and empty house, having this conversation. I don’t know why he even put up with listening to me, trying to calm me, instead of just telling me to bloody mind my own business.
“You know, I am sure he is in love with you.”
“He’d better be, he is my husband.”
“No, not him. The Witcher. By the way, it was cruel letting him go all by himself to fetch a first aid kit just so you could get into the whirlpool with your friends.”
“He said it was ok. And we agree that we are just friends AND he has a girlfriend now.”
“Well, if you say so. He is very attractive however.”
“You mean because he always seems dark and brooding?”
“I don’t know. He just is. Don’t you think so?”
“You know, I lost the ability to have an opinion when I got married.”
….. I fended off her innuendos, all the while wondering what she was aiming at. This seemed like more than casual small talk and I took the earliest chance to get out of the conversation, also making sure to mention his girlfriend a few more times. Okay, to be honest, I did not talk too well of her – maybe doing her injustice, because I had never met her – but I just could not resist the chance to have an outlet for my anger.
I did not see him for some weeks after our good bye at the hotel, but we wrote to each other every day.
Sometimes I asked him about his girl. It gave my heart a bitter sting, but I did it even the more for that. It was like this aching tooth you got and you can’t stop probing it with your tongue. I was poking the wound a lot, writing to him every evening to see if he responded or not – he never did when on a date with her, which was the case about once a week. After a while I warned him, told him I did not want to hear anything of her because it hurt and that he should not give in even if I asked. I still got more than enough out of him, since he often fell into conversational traps I set up for him – he is just too honest, too naive. I found out where she was working – close to my University – and whenever I was there I hoped I could run into her, just to see how much it would hurt. I did stupid things, like checking her facebook profile every day to see if she had changed her relationship status, or actually trying to reach coworkers of hers. There is a manageable amount of scientists in the capital, so I would have gotten to her sooner or later, had I put my full efforts into it. But it was all just half-hearted, because I knew it to be wrong and hypocritical. He never complained about me being married. I had no right whatsoever to make a fuss about him having a girlfriend. Still, I did. Feelings and reason don’t go well together, at least not for me.