bowls and roses

When he opened the door, still carrying my luggage, I saw a nice decorated place. It was strange, if you think of a man living in a new country for a short period.

Then, I saw them, some floating candles in a bowl of water. And I thought, that couldn't be him. He wasn't the person I used to know. He took care of details, he was charming and thoughtful, but floating candles? Very suspicious.

The second thing I discovered was a potpourry bowl... man, he had changed, and I couldn't distinguish between the old nice guy and the new guy. I was more than surprised. You can imagine my face when he told me he had made some space in the wardrobe for my clothes and emptied a drawer for my belongings. Who could resist a man like that?

The third thing I couldn't believe were the plants he had placed in the living room, looking great, that he never forgot to water while I was there. I must admit now that I felt those butterflies I've talked about some time ago here. They were persistent, like an illness you need to get rid of, even if I tried to think that I wasn't in a bed of roses.

Some time later I discovered, and I still don't know whether I was happy at that moment or not, that he was a romantic person. Not that I don't like romantic men in my life, though I've to admit I'm more practical than romantic these days. The fact that we were no longer together made feel in an awkward situation, as if not belonging there, that I was taking a look at somebody meant to be with someone else. And I felt it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all.