By Daria SHAKOURZADEH
We were not children anymore. He was a twenty-seven year old working man, so there was no doubting that he was that kind of sentimental, embittered executive, almost an old geezer. At twenty seven, you’ve inevitably already gone through some breakups. First, you are mad with despair, but soon you become used to it, which is the first symptom of bitterness.
So, when he told me that evening, after we had only been dating two weeks, that he loved me, I could not help letting all my sarcasm burst out.
“Please, you’re kidding! You don’t even know me. Don’t tell me you’re that kind of inexperienced old boy!”
Then I saw it, for the first time. His warm, calm, deep, spontaneous, amused, patient, confident look embraced me.
“Not at all, I am only being perceptive.”
From that evening onwards I have not stopped loving him.
by Daria Shakourzadeh, after Dan Rhodes