THIS IS JUST A SMALL ADDITION

After writing the story of Mariko, I ran into Yami by chance. I used the opportunity to learn something from his point of view.

Mariko was the strangest girl I had ever seen. Your mood fluctuated from one moment to the next. Sometimes she came to school so pale, tired and with deep shadows around her eyes that you wondered what had happened to her. On a few days she acted so evasively and aloof, although the reason for it didn't make sense to me. She invited me on her birthday. She danced and exuded incredible energy and happiness. Still, I knew that something was making her deeply unhappy. Because in her eyes I recognized the profound despair and I felt a strange sad resonance in my heart.

Sometimes we met outside of class. She could be very funny and entertaining when she was in the right mood to do it.We were planning a trip to the seaside and I was sure it would be a fun time. At first we were both happy and excited, we even played card duels and she did well. Then came that strange moment when we stopped and on our way to the beach. With an unfathomable look she suddenly looked at me sideways. Her happy smile and the funny words froze in an almost unbearable silence.

No matter how I tried, I didn't understand this girl. She was like a labyrinth with many wrong ways that denied any access to her heart.

Why could I never reach her world?

I didn't understand anything she was doing, I felt passed out and sad. My heart felt more for her than it seemed appropriate and good to me. Her idiosyncrasy, her temperament, her hidden kindness and sensitivity, which she herself would probably never admit voluntarily. But I could never help her in her hardest hours.That could drive me crazy.

I almost forgot to mention that I had only met her once in her desperation. It was winter and it was snowing heavily. But I loved this weather because you could walk outside without meeting anyone and having to see the world around you so clearly. I was in the park and wanted to sit down in a nice spot for a while, when I saw her. Unconscious, there was already a thick layer of snow on her clothes. I shook her like a madman and yelled at her. In that moment I was gripped by such fear. I propped her up and took her home. I think if she weren't in such a weak state she'd kick me out of the apartment.

There are people who are not only addicted to pleasure, but also addicted to suffering. That was exactly what happened to Mariko. Sometimes I got the feeling that she was pushing herself into her world full of inexplicable pain and grief and denying everyone access to her, including me.She seemed so skilled at accepting disappointment and despair that it seemed almost impossible to give someone unclouded love and trust. She always insisted on withdrawing within the hours of her greatest suffering and facing the unimaginable powers alone. Perhaps she had to overcome the fear of death every time in order to return to our perceptible and shared world. How I wished that I could help her in some way, but she vigorously pushed back my help. Who was I really for her, what place did I have in her heart anyway?

She was not a person of many words and what she said or did was seldom clearly interpreted. In the hours of passion she knew how to convince me of her love and I believed that I could make her happy with my tenderness. In other moments, when she suddenly turned her back on me and the world and sank into her lonely despair, I could not suppress the thought that she loved me only out of physical desire.Sometimes I wanted to know what she was doing alone, but she neither answered the phone nor answered the door, even though I could see the light shining through her window. I sometimes tried to reach her for hours or even days. At some point she came to me happy and carefree, pretending nothing had happened, while I was worried the whole time and was almost certain that she was going to leave me.

No, I had never felt safe with her. In our joyful hours we enjoyed our happiness as much as possible, because every time there was something final about the time and every reunion also included a farewell. The whole time I tried to make her feel like she could rely on me in a natural way. I wanted her to feel safe, no longer alone and lost. I wanted to be able to stand by her. But now everything seems a little too late.

Actually, I had imagined going through life with her, in all our good and bad times.But now I've lost it, I've lost it and I'm alone on the long journey. Her past, her grief, her struggle and her despair - I understood so many things without a word and had made up my mind never to hurt her and to compensate her for what had happened, to protect her, to pamper her and to make her laugh so that she would never come back looks back and sinks into it.

Mariko, I would have wanted to make amends for you so much, just to see yourself happy and no longer so worn out.

Then you left like a boulder that rolled into the abyss of its own accord, without leaving me a message or the slightest explanation. All of my efforts, my feelings, which I had offered you over the years like a free buffet, were simply deposited in the rubbish bin. I don't consider myself to be a particularly aggressive person, but back then that night I was overcome by this excessive desire (perhaps because of the films these days) to dip my hands in your warm blood and find out how much cold-heartedness, ignorance, indifference, Arrogance and stupidity was actually in this red liquid that fed your body and mind.But I couldn't hate you as much as I wished. Because I felt too much for you for that. You became part of my soul.

I still believe that every love can only be experienced once in a lifetime and that the strongest of these will shape our entire lives. Two people, who by nature actually belong together and for various human reasons cannot stay together, resemble two lighthouses in the dark, which, despite the distance, still send barely perceptible light signals to each other.

In the dark I see your smile and no matter how hard I try, the thoughts of you won't get out of my head.

You can say so surprisingly little with so many words.