A man, a woman, destiny and the consumer society

He knocked on her door. There was no answer. He knocked on her window. There was no answer. He whistled. There was no answer. He shouted her name. There was no answer. He sang a love song. There was no answer. He sent her a cable. There was no answer. He emailed her. There was no answer. He sent her a message via chat. There was no answer.

She had received all of the messages. She waited. If he were so interested in seeing her, he could wait. He should wait. He would have to wait. It would be better for him to wait. It would be better for her to wait. The best things take time, she figured. In the meantime someone else appeared on her path. Time passed. Years passed.

Ten years. He was getting divorced and settling the custody of the children. She was getting separated and settling the custody of her children. Life had given both of them ripe fruit and spilt milk. Passion had given way to obligation. Obligation to resignation. Sex had become a forgotten joy. The poetry had left their existence. Life was a question of having and not being. You either had or you had not. If you had not you were considered a nothing.

And yet in his mind and in hers there persisted uneasy thoughts: who am I? Where am I going to? What is the meaning of my existence? Why do I do what I do? Why do I make the same mistakes? Is it natural to crave sex and at the same time abhore what goes along with it, the entangling relationships? Is there any meaning to my existence, or must I just go through the stages of life as a car at a factory: the motor, the frame, the paint, the seats, the Hi-fi...

It was then that it happened. Radio KNFG had a program called "meet your lost mate." He was called to participate. So was she. But neither knew who was going to be there. She arrived first and was already in the broadcasting studio when he arrived. They gawked at each other, stunned.

 "My God! I can’t believe it!" she exclaimed.

"Oh God! It’s you!" he muttered.

They didn’t know whether to be happy or sad or angry or depressed.

Dear reader: it is up to you to decide what happened next. It could be your own story. It could be your dream. It could be just a figment of your imagination.

Our reader's endings:

1) "We can try and make a collective story, can´t we? Filled with emotion, they uttered their first words, as if they were children, without thinking:"beautiful", "your eyes...", "your smile...", as they began to feel confident, adulthood pushed to find its way:"why didn´t you come...?",....Now, it´s your turn reader, how does it continue?" Fabiana Liberti