Matthew Meduri

The Woman

Rain again, autumn rain. Like on the day I met that woman for the last time, the day I started feeling nervous and skeptical about him. Before she and I met, I thought I might be in love with him. We understood each other and did what we wanted. I still don’t believe that woman. How could I? I don’t even really know her. I mean really know her. All that she said, everything she told me could be a lie, an utter and miserable lie.

Why? Why do I feel skeptic? What is my reasoning?

She must be delusional, the way she talked and talked. It started out pleasant; I met her in line for coffee. Somehow our petty chitchat turned in the direction of him. Maybe I mentioned I lived with someone, him. I can’t remember, but I think she directed it. She knew him from a past life, another place.

We planned to meet for coffee again at the same place another day. This time she talked about our commonality, about plans. Then she turned dark. First, it was a subtle hint. A hint turned into a remark, and a remark became a hate filled rant. I had nothing to say until I finally could take no more and I had to leave. She apologized defensively, saying it is what I needed to know about him. She freaked me out. I left trying not to think about any of what she said to me about him. How could I? It may not even be true. It wasn’t true. At least I don’t think it is.

The rain blurs the window, but I still see his empty parking space. I want to disregard what she said but it weighs too much on me. I want to tell him also that I met her and all the terrible things she said about him. But when I look at him walking around the apartment, smiling, or talking, I notice certain qualities about him. They slightly resemble something of what she said. It’s strange—and I’m acting strange. Well, it feels that way. I think he can tell that I know something, but he won’t say it. He couldn’t be capable of what she said he did. He is too sweet.

The woman’s voice has slowly left my thoughts unpleasant and unwanted. I need to tell someone about her but when I try to call a friend, I don’t mention a thing. It isn’t true and that woman is crazy. So why am I still skeptical?