I remember distinctly how vague my memory of his voice is. He calls from outside and beckons me to come out of the mist. Says he has and offer... He is too smart to say he has an offer I can't refuse, so he simply says that he is going to make me happy. ”I am happy”, I say peevishly. End of conversation? No. He tells me how sweet life is when it is lived together with a loved one... ”I don't love you!” I say and he says I will, eventually, very soon. ”You have to work on it”, he says. I feel erect bars descending from somewhere, forming a cage around me.
”I'm giving you freedom” he says. ”I can help in the kitchen”.
I want to tell him that I did have freedom but he will tear it down. My freedom. So I say:
”I want a long, long, long wall”. I even stipulate it in meters and centimeters. Such long walls are hard to come by and if he would finally find it, the house would be too expensive for us.
”Mmmkay” he says, just like that teacher in South Park, and he hangs up. Relief is not what I'm breathing in and out. I'm dealing with the pain of saying a half yes instead of a no. However long walls he finds I will not marry him but I will not have the dignity to tell him that to his face.
(Utmaning: skriv om ett frieri)