The stranger

“Fuuuck!” I swore and the sound of my voice echoed in the silent waiting room. I was jumping around on one leg holding the other. The day couldn’t be better. Late for work, unsuccessful conference, appointment at the dentist (I really hate them) and a swollen aching toe as a bonus. 

“What’s wrong?” I heard from behind and realised I wasn’t alone. Irritated by the question as it was obvious I just stumbled my foot (bloody table!) I snapped: “Nothing.” 

“Hmmm.” 

I closed my eyes and breathed in to calm myself. Nobody made me so angry by saying just three words and a stupid “hmmm” yet. I slowly turned around not caring to be polite and asked: “What?” 

The stranger smiled mischievously and replied: “All nothings are actually somethings.” Hello? What is that supposed to mean? I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeah, whatever,” I waved my hand dismissively. 

“And these “yeah whatevers”, “ he made quotation marks with his fingers, “according to my experience often mean “I want to know more.”,” he smiled again obviously amused at my growing anger. I felt the blood boiling in every inch of my body. 

“Really?” I said as much unimpressed as I could. 

“Oh yes, indeed.” He made himself comfortable in the seat and looked me right in the eyes. Very intensely I have to say. Something in his gaze made me sit down. It wasn’t like an order, it was more like an unspoken suggestion – let us sit down and talk. 

I studied his peaceful face. I can’t really explain what it was but there was something about this stranger that made me regret my previous behaviour. I was not very good at saying sorry but somehow managed to mumble: “Ehm I – I’m sorry for being so rude earlier.” I felt my face going red. 

“Okay,” he replied still smiling, apparently not mad at all. I wondered whether this man was ever angry. 

“You know, it’s been a tough day…” 

“From time to time everyone has a bad – hair day,” he stated. Somehow I couldn’t believe that by everyone he meant himself as well. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

I glanced around the waiting room. Strange sounds were coming from behind the ambulance’s door. I shuddered from fear. A tooth’s been making me trouble for two weeks already. Last days were really unbearable and now I have to face it. I considered our conversation to be over and picked up a magazine from the small table in front of me to keep my mind busy in time I get inside. I flicked through it not really paying attention to what I was looking at. I was pretty nervous. I tried to focus on the stupid celebrities popping lame poses in their tasteless expensive dresses for eager photographers but I could still feel the stranger’s gaze upon me. I slowly looked up and our eyes met. 

“Anything interesting?” 

“Ah, not really. Just brain – washing. And letting people think they should wear this,” I showed him a picture of a fish – scale – like dress, “to be in.” 

“Oh, that looks very comfortable for everyday wearing.” I smiled at this remark. The stranger glanced at his watch. 

I asked: “Were you supposed to be in already? They often don’t follow the schedule…” 

“No. Later… We still have time.” 

Oh, okay. Am I the only one who thought that sounded like an invitation to something I really wasn’t up to at the moment? I laughed awkwardly and tried to pull my skirt over my knees. He noticed it and explained the misunderstanding. 

“To talk of course,” he scratched his chin to make his wedding ring visible. Silly me! 

“Sure! Talking…love that!” I said overenthusiastically and was relieved he wasn’t about to drag me to a dark corner. In fact, I’m not very good at talking. 

“So shall I repeat my question?” he smiled. “The one which I doubt was answered truly.” 

“I beg your pardon?” What does he think he is? Honestly, I hate people who poke their noses into things which are none of their business. Especially when my own business is considered. Guess what did the stranger?! He smiled! That was really getting on my nerves. 

“I feel something is wrong.” How dare he?! I was close to throwing something in his grinning face. 

“With me? Excuse me, but who are you to say something like that to a woman you met a couple of minutes ago?” 

“Well, I’m just a man sitting in a waiting room.” 

“Don’t you say! I wouldn’t think of that…” 

“So?” 

“So what?”

“I’m listening. Tell me about your nothing,” he smiled encouragingly. 

“Why the hell would I talk about my problems with a complete stranger?” 

“That means you admit nothing is something?” 

“What? Nothing a something…I…” I’ve never met such an arrogant and shameless man! However, I went on in our conversation. There was something about him that made me talk. That actually made me want to talk about…my feelings.

“I’m just…” I trailed off. 

“You’ve got nothing to lose,” he winked. I considered my opportunities. I can either excuse myself, say I’m not interested in talking and wait to be called in. Or talk about everything I’ve been hiding inside for so long… I mean he doesn’t know my name or address – I hope at least. And I’m not going to talk about my bank account or something like that. It really seemed I don’t have anything to lose. 

“Well, frankly there is something I need to get off my chest.” With his green eyes piercing mine he waited patiently. 

“I’m in love,” I felt really silly saying it. Especially to a guy I didn’t know at all. Men mostly seem bothered when they have to listen to women’s problems. I looked away then back at him but he just sat there motionless and quiet. 

“It’s complicated,” I shook my head thinking I was being stupid even walking in this waiting room not to mention I was about to talk about my feelings. 

“Love always is,” he said finally. “It’s not supposed to be easy. Then we wouldn’t make fools of us because of it.” I was struck by the truthfulness of his words. 

“At least sometimes it’s not as complicated as my case… But it’s a long story.” He checked the time and smiled. 

“We still have time,” he repeated. I smiled back at him and an invisible but yet powerful force made me speak up. 

“I fell in love with the wrong guy.” That was as clear as a day. Although, for the stranger obviously not. 

“Why wrong?” He had the unquestionable ability to frustrate me with as few words as possible. 

“Because I’m not supposed to love someone like him but still I do.” 

“And who are you supposed to love if not him? Some Mr. Right one?” he teased. 

“Yes, exactly.” 

“So what you’re trying to say is that the world is full of men who are either the “Right ones” or the “Wrong ones”. And currently you happen to be in love with the “Wrong one”, right?” 

“I guess so.” He laughed out loud. 

“Excuse me, but what’s so funny?” Now he managed to irritate me only with a sound…

”Just please explain why do you think he is the so - called wrong – one – type of man?” 

“It’s not that easy…” I said frowning. 

“If it was it would mean nothing and we’ve come to the conclusion it’s a something, haven’t we?” He is either a complete idiot or an absolute genius, I really couldn’t decide…

“The thing is he’s got a girlfriend,” I said somberly. 

“Kill her.” 

“What the?!” 

“Sorry,” he smiled, “only joking.” 

“Not very funny.” Oh, yeah – men and their sense of humour… 

“Is he willing to leave her because of you?” 

“She…” my voice broke off and tears started to fill my eyes. The stranger handed me a handkerchief. 

“Thanks,” I mumbled feeling embarrassed to be crying in front of a stranger. 

“Well, at the time we started seeing each other I didn’t know about any girlfriend. But when things were getting serious he admitted he still had other commitments to deal with. You know we both thought it was just a short and passionate romance but gradually… the nothing turned into something.” 

“But what is something?” 

I laughed bitterly. “Something is my heartbeat quickening every time I see him, every time he phones or texts a message. Something is missing him so much you get sick of waiting. It’s when you say his name and feel your inside flame burn with happiness. And having goose bumps whenever and wherever he touches you. His tight hug being the best place to die. His kiss the best medicine for your wounds. His very existence being the only reason for your own. Something is your heart beating for him and not for yourself anymore. Something is being incomplete without the other.” I realized it was probably the longest time I’ve ever spoken about my feelings in such a deep and honest way. 

“Why would be the person who completes you the wrong one?” 

“There’s the other woman…” I felt my heart being stabbed with a knife whenever I thought or spoke about her. 

“Bloody woman,” he muttered and for the first time I saw on Mr. Calm – face’s face a new expression. I could only agree. 

“To get this clear, his ‘something’ about you isn’t as strong as yours because of the other woman?” 

I shook my head. “No it isn’t like that… I’m sure he loves me just as much as I do.” 

“But can you be sure? A man can truly love only one woman at a time. That’s for what our heart was created. He either does love the other girlfriend or doesn’t love any of you as much as he claims if he’s not able to choose.” His words really hurt. I was reluctant to admit they may be true. 

“As we were getting closer, they were slowly drifting apart. He decided to be fair to both of us and went to see his girlfriend. He wanted to end the relationship so that we could finally plan our future together. You can imagine what that meant to me. I couldn’t be happier – we wanted to give her up because of me and I forgot to say they were together for 5 years. But when he came back…” the very thought about the day made me wanna jump out of the waiting room window. I held my head in my hands and closed my eyes.

The silence was broken by a cry of pain from the dentist’s chair. Suddenly, I remembered why I was actually sitting there…my damn tooth. I looked up at the man sitting in the waiting room. 

“He decided to stay with her?” 

“No, no. He didn’t.” 

“But?” he encouraged me to go on. 

“She is pregnant,” I replied and gulped hard. 

“With him?” 

“So she claims.” 

“Does he trust her? I mean she could have slept with anybody in the meantime.” 

“I know that. But he doesn’t want to risk abandoning his own child.” 

“I see. Tell me, what is your role in his eyes, in all this? The babysitter of his maybe – child?” 

“It’s not like that!” I cried desperately not knowing who am I trying to fool. 

“Explain then,” he said sharply. I started to regret talking to him. 

“Please,” he added after a while seeing me so fallen apart. 

“Love is blind,” I said in a weak voice, a tear rolling down my cheek. 

“I can’t go on without him,” I stated matter – of – factly. 

“Can you imagine losing your wife?” 

“No,” he answered simply and firmly. 

“But what am I supposed to do?” I buried my face in my hands again. It was rather a rhetorical question but I received an answer, though. 

“I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do or tell you that you’re just wasting your time with a man not worth it,” he looked at me intensely, “but one of the things I’ve learnt in my life is,” he glanced at his wedding ring and turned it slightly, “that sometimes the wrong ones are just the right ones. As you said – love is blind to see it.” I thought about it for a while when the ambulance door burst open. A pale man came stumbling out obviously glad to be out of the hell. 

“Miss Woods, you’re next.” 

“Oh, yes,” I snapped out of my trance and glanced at the stranger. 

“Thank you.” His only reply was a smile.

It hurt, it was painful and uncomfortable but it was finally over. My tooth was fixed and I was free to leave. At the door I turned around and asked my dentist: ”Excuse me, who is the next one? What’s the name of the man waiting out there?” The dentist looked a bit puzzled but then replied: “Actually, you’re the last one for today.” His face lit up. 

“Oh. Okay. Thanks. Goodbye.” I opened the door just to find an empty waiting room. There was only a note on the seat where the stranger sat.

Miss Woods,

Thank you for the inspiring conversation. Remember, love isn’t about selecting Mr. Right one out of the many Mr. Wrong ones but being Mrs. Right one for somebody else.