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Leselupe.de > Fremdsprachiges und MundART
Do you care?
Eingestellt am 30. 04. 2004 09:39

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Well he wasn’t the greatest. Not the greatest looking guy, not the smartest guy and, for sure, not the greatest kisser. In fact, he was the worst kiss I ever had. But it wasn’t the greatest night of my life either.
It all happened in Surfer’s Paradise, a holiday place at the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia. I was up there for a week with Nicki, a friend from Switzerland I had gotten to know on the Discovery tour a few months earlier. We had planned this holiday with enthusiasm and it was great to see her again. Partying and Relaxing on the beach, that was our plan for this week, but only after the first night we learnt that things wouldn’t quite work out the way we wanted them to. None of the many bars and clubs would let us in without I.D. and so we had to do something else to make our nights fun.
That very night, January 10th , 2004, was a Saturday night and we had had a few really cool offers to go on Party cruisers
 but well, too young! Bad luck for us and so we just got a few drinks, went to the beach and sat down to have a chat and to watch the sea. We had quite a nice talk but it didn’t take long before a guy came up to us and started talking to us. He seemed to be pretty nice, his name was Chris and he was from Melbourne. He just arrived that very night and when we chatted away with him he really turned out to be good to talk to. While we were in this conversation, another young guy came along and sat down, he was from New Zealand and though he wasn’t too good looking he seemed to be nice.
Chris and him made themselves known and so we had a nice group of four to chat with. By this point we weren’t drunk but quite tipsy and as it happens, Nicki had to go to the toilet. Luckily, there was a Maccas close by and Chris offered to walk her down. Even though I knew he was alright I was a bit worried about her and so I paid more attention to watching Nicki on her way as long as I could than to the guy sitting right next to me. We continued talking and I noticed that he obviously liked me. He started asking questions about a boyfriend and I could quite obvious see where this led up to.
He wasn’t my type, he wasn’t even good looking, he was too straightforward for my taste, but for some reason I went with it. Probably the alcohol, probably the pretty depressed stage I was in that time, made me answering all his questions and playing exactly the part I was meant to. Soon after Chris and Nicki were back, I said I was gonna go to the toilets myself and he said he was coming with me.
Since Nicki said that the Maccas toilets were closed by now, we went to the Hungry Jack’s nearby and he waited outside. From the point on where I stepped out of the toilets, I totally didn’t care anymore what would happen to me that night.
On the way back he took my hand and when I was looking at it, more curious than surprised, he asked if it was alright. Oh yeah, sure. We came back like that and immediately I could tell by the expression on her face that Nicki didn’t like what I was doing. In german I just said to her: please let me do my thing tonight, ok? Well she couldn’t do anything to stop me.
Things went on and when Chris and Nicki started running along the beach, throwing sand at each other, I was sitting with him on my towel and I felt, I couldn’t go back anymore. And I didn’t care. I didn’t care as he started kissing me, I didn’t care what nicki and chris would think, I didn’t care about myself. Even though he was the worst kiss I ever had, I didn’t care.
The only thing I cared about was one word he said, “gorgeous”. The only thing I cared about was the feeling I had when he took my hand.
We left soon after and while Chris gave me his number, I knew I would never see that other guy again and I didn’t care. On the way up the street to our backpacker’s, Nicki only said a few words. “What the hell was that, Katia?” And as less as I had cared before, the more I did now. “Just leave me alone, you don’t understand!”
In silence we went up to our room and went straight outside to sit on the balcony. I knew that Nicki was angry with me for what I had done and I didn’t want to argue with her, but I knew I would have to explain. I started crying, there outside on the balcony, sitting all by myself and thinking about what had caused this strange feeling of not caring. I knew I cared too much about stuff all the time in my life, but I had never not cared at all.
In the end, Nicki came outside and sat down on the ground. “Why did you do that?” And I didn’t care about her seeing me crying, I just started to talk. About how crap I felt lately and that I was at the point where you don’t care anymore. About how nice it was to have the feeling that someone likes me. Deep inside I knew that this guy would have forgotten me by the next day and that he didn’t care about me, that I was just another pick-up for him, but this guy wasn’t what it was about. In fact, I couldn’t even remember his name.
“You know, you can do better than that. You know, you are a great girl and you don’t deserve a guy like that. You know that, do you?” That’s what brought me back. Out of my ‘I don’t care anymore’ mood.
“Hey, did you know what? He was missing a tooth. And he was a really bad kisser. And hey, do you remember his name, by any chance?”
The next morning brought me a light hangover, a very quick and very slight memory of ‘Peter’ and a lighter feeling.
Sometimes I think back to that feeling when I didn’t care anymore about anything. And I miss it sometimes. Because it made things easy.
But since life isn’t meant to be easy this is probably not the right way. And at the moment I care about things.
And I try not to care too much.

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