Scene: written 9 days after Erasmus left for studies in the Czech Republic.
* * *
* Daniel suddenly wakes up. He wakes up, sits up, shakes his head.*
* "Again...", he mutters under his breath. *
* Daniel turns to the viewer, magically puts on light trousers and a plain blue T-shirt with a snap of his fingers, sits down at the computer and starts writing. *
– – – – –
Hey, there. Yes, you're the lady from my dreams.
What kind of person do you think you are?
Do you think you're some kind of galactic queen? That you can do whatever you want?
...Just to take it and invade my dreams? Force your way into my thoughts in the most unexpected places? In the most private spaces?
(Didn't anyone teach you good manners?)
Madam, please stop what you are doing. I don't know whether it is voodoo magic, neuropsychology or the work of Satan, but I don't like it anymore.
...Because isn't it nice to do that?
For the third night now, I dream about you. For the fourth day, I've been noticing girls who look like you. On the fifth day, I notice places and things I would like to show you. And on the sixth day, I want to touch your hair again and give you an electric shock.
- On the ninth day, you're not out of my head.
- ...Although I seem to have more other thoughts in it than it can hold.
- ...Even though I've been living a crazy life in a new country for a week now, with new people and new crazy challenges.
- ...Although the last time we met was nine or ten days ago.
How to understand this?
Why does the lecturer's flowery skirt remind me of you? Why do I think of you when springy, lively music is playing (like this moment)? Why, in the end, even the nose of the Algerian Frenchman I met reminded me of your little, adorable breathing apparatus?
I swear, if I remembered the sound of your laughter, I would probably hear it everywhere.
Thank God I don't hear it.
Why?
Simple - if I heard it, I would probably go completely mad. I'm close to it now - I've only met you twice (and kissed you once), but I still don't forget. And I don't want to go mad for you.
...Except when 9 days out of 99 (yes, I did the math), it's ALL THAT!
No, it's not a huge pain for me. I don't feel any pain because I remember you.
...But my only fear is to burn out by the time I get back.
And when you're plagued by endless thoughts like that, it's definitely possible to burn out. I hope at least you don't think about me every other day... 😉
So I'm asking you, lady:
Whatever magic you're doing, stop it. At least until I get back.
And when I get back, I can hug you, kiss you, take you to the amusement park, and then we can read books together, so you can pick up where you left off.
But not yet. Not yet.
Just not as badly.
– – – – –
* Daniel sighs lightly as he looks at the letter. Then he gets up from the chair, changes into more comfortable clothes by the wardrobe and rushes off to meet his new acquaintances *