Katja Moser

everything that matters (part 1)

A warm autumn day’s inspiring my mind and my feelings seem so different again now that the sun is shining. Sitting in the garden of my parents house, I listen to the farmers working on their harvest and the dogs barking in the distance.
What is it about the weather that can so entirely change ones mood? The sun rays warming my skin and the soft wind blowing through my hair remind me of happy days and all of a sudden I feel happy again. Not that I had been sad the last few weeks or months but there are always things you regret and things you wish for.
Nothing has changed except the weather but anyway I feel calm and satisfied, joyful and full of hope. While I am writing, my thoughts are racing back to where it all started.
A long, long time ago, you could almost say “once upon a time”, when I was still a kid, my life suddenly changed and until now this chaos is reigning in my head.
Back then, I went to 5th grade, everything was better than ever before, I had a new school, new friends and teachers who respected me. My grades were quite good, I played games and had fun after school and for the first time I fitted in everywhere. The first year at this school was simply great and it was over all too soon. That’s how I see it now. Looking at it in retrospective is always different. Then, of course, I wasn’t sad that the summer holidays came, not at all. I was even looking forward to it, the morning of my last school day. We went to church and were told that our teacher was sick. No big deal. His wife, who was a teacher, too, would give us the papers. I knew her name but nothing more.
Expecting nothing when I entered the classroom, I sat down, chatting with my friends and we all wanted it to get over and done with. I turned my head at the entrance of the teacher but from there on everything is only a blur. ~This is his wife?~ I thought. ~Why haven’t I seen her before? Or have I and just didn’t remember? Could it be? - No, possibly not.~ All of these thoughts were crossing my mind at this moment. Dorothy. She looked perfect. I have no idea what she was wearing, some long skirt I guess but I’m not sure. Her blue eyes were shining like diamonds, her hair was longer than it is now and her smile shone like the sun. In an instant I fell in love with her. Still, I don’t know how something like that is possible and why it had to happen to me. At the time I didn’t realize it entirely. I thought she looked great and wondered what she was like but that was it and I only was reminded of her in the holidays watching a movie in the theater. Twister.
In 6th grade my parallel class had her as a teacher and I met her every day. Why did I have to meet her again so soon? Would it have been different if I hadn’t seen her that often? Why did my feelings for her grow so strong over this next year? Why, why, why? I still ask myself these questions from time to time. Everything would have been different, my friends, my grades, my behavior. Past, present and future. Everything. Only because of one moment in time. It’s pathetic she would say but I don’t care because that’s the truth.
By now it’s getting dark outside and cold. Does it take the happiness from me? - No, I don’t think so. The evening air is cool on my skin, there are no farmers anymore, no dogs barking. Inside the house people are talking, discussing politics and other people’s decisions. A normal life. “Will you ever have one, David?” I wonder. A really normal life? With a family? Kids? Pets? A great job and loving people? Perhaps, I don’t know yet. But what’s normal? Everyone thinks the others aren’t normal. Something is always strange, it doesn’t fit in, but do I care about that? - No, of course not because normal isn’t measurable. I learned that.
Back then I tried to figure out her life. Naïve as I had been, I talked about my feelings openly, not only with my friends, but also with my enemies. Of course I didn’t know about them becoming my enemies later and so I was grateful for every detail they could tell me about her. ~She’s living on the millionaires’ hill~ This was the first information I got. Sitting in an arts lesson and talking about nothing else but her, I received it with so much excitement that I can still feel it. Just the memory of it is breathtaking. After all I know now, this is still so special to me.
Concrete information was rare in 6th grade, the only thing I knew, was that she had 2 children and they were going to our school, but I think that’s all. The rest of the info was purely rumours and talking. Interesting for me, of course, but nonetheless unimportant. This time’s just a blur in front of my inner eye. Though my feelings are almost the same now, I don’t know what brought me to act that stupid in the years following 5th grade.

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