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FlirtyFlower
Story Top Review
28
The Chinese character
It shatters - no, not into a thousand pieces. It's in three. Three clean pieces of broken glass. When I drop the top guard of the acquaintance's coffee cup, I again prove that I am the undisputed queen of clumsiness.
All I wanted to do was help my mother carry it. But she rightly asks me if I couldn't even wear a cup at my age.
A Sunday afternoon that couldn't be more beautiful. I'd even have to get something ready for work. For the colleague, who would pull my mood on Monday once again through the mincer and process it into shashlik.
It's a good thing I learned over the years not to cry over spilled milk. But a little humility about my everlasting carelessness I already feel.
The last few months have been hard. But every time I fell, I learned to get up again. With each criticism I learned why I had started with some things at all. With every loss I learned that one can become happy again in life despite losses.
But despite everything, I knew that I would have to face this colleague on Monday and that it could cost me my last nerve and strength.
You know, some people have an ego that makes me wonder what they mix into their coffee in the morning. Or what's actually in the cigarettes they smoke. I wish it were really just a clown for some of them who would allow themselves a slice of toast or their porridge in the morning.
When this anxiety grips me, my carelessness and clumsiness make a few things fall into my arms.
And as I collect everything, I meet a powdery vanilla divine scent. Incredibly beautiful, soft, almost healing.
It is a clean vanilla that develops smokily and yet caresses you like a white cotton wool cloud. If you could smell the color white - yes, then it would be this scent. Almost as if white snow had turned into white vanilla powder (only not dusty, but fresh), soft, white and despite everything powdery-warm, powdery-beautiful, powdery-healing.
Apparently my ma has bought me two scents and the one seems to be Trussardi Donna.
Almost crazy, because I've been wanting a vanilla scent for some time now. Because vanilla is not only supposed to have an incredibly stimulating effect on the mind, but above all to be de-stressed and even to protect against burnout. In psychotherapy it should be used for anxiety patients to calm the patients and free them from their worries.
Whether it is perhaps just these aspects, why we can remember comforting, warm vanilla pudding from our childhood?
With everything, an old class photo falls into my hands. When I was little, I wasn't a very good student - up to 5th grade. Afterwards I somehow put on my clothes and everything seemed to run by itself. But no matter how hard I worked, no matter how good my grades were, there was one girl who was always better than me.
She was Chinese. Her name was Kayin. If I had an A, she had an A+. When I got a commendation in sports, she got an award. If I had a two in my worst drawer, she had a 1-.
No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, she was always better than me. Until I - yes, until I resigned.
At one point, I decided I couldn't be better than her. But I decided that I could do my best and make myself happy without being dependent on anyone. Without comparing me, without imposing other people's standards on me.
And you know what happened?
When my ma catches me crustling, she tells me that she told the acquaintance that she broke the "overcup". That even though she scolded me at first.
The acquaintance probably meant that the cup had a crack anyway and she wanted to put it away anyway. Just didn't make it through the heart.
Through this event I decided to be as I was then. Not perfect, but I decided to come up with something from my heart for my friend and my ma. And for the work and for all the other important areas of life I would do my best, no matter what happened. No matter who thought about it. Because I decided to do it with all my heart.
And no matter what you have in mind, I wish you: everything you do with your heart, may you succeed.
EPILOG
"The eyes are useless, when the mind is blind." The Little Prince