Leo is back. Of course you didn't even know she was gone. I've gotten so used to it that I don't mention it anymore. Sometimes she's there and sometimes she's not. That's just the way it is.
This morning when I came downstairs she was sitting at the kitchen table. Way too early for her biorhythm, actually. And judging by the number of cigarettes already stubbed out, she had been sitting there for a while. As always, not a word about where she had been. But there was a sparkle in those tired eyes. I can guess what that means.
Later that morning I spotted her blonde mane in the cherry tree. The corridor adjoining our two rooms opens into a small balcony and from there it's easy to climb over into the branches. So there we both sat between the dark red fruits and said nothing. And a little later we said quite a lot. I don't know how Leo manages to bring lightness to things that feel so heavy and almost overwhelming to me. From her point of view, everything is very clear: if it doesn't feel right for me to publish 'Mariupol', then we shouldn't do it. At least not yet. Each and every one of us has to feel comfortable with it, and if that´s not the case, we'll just keep working on it until all concerns are resolved.
Now I feel pretty stupid. How can anyone be such a drama queen? I keep turning things back and forth in my head over and over again and at some point everything seems so complicated and fateful that making a decision is impossible. And then Leo, of all people, whose life is so full of very real and tangible problems, comes along and simply cuts the knot. I was able to catch a few glimpses of Leo's past days afterwards. I know that's how it works. If I open up, so can she. And vice versa. But I had to promise not to write about it. That's why I want to end here for now. I'll be back soon with the next episode of all the real and imagined drama from our house.
PS: Thanks to everyone who encouraged me after the last post to put my doubts aside. I hope you have a little more patience with me.