The Moment of Clarity (tale)

The two of them left the party and went to his place. It was before dawn on a December morning. She felt sick although she had barely eaten anything that night and had not drunk any alcohol. She got undressed and lay naked on the bed. He felt the disquiet in her and, as usual in such occasions, insisted that she should tell him what was wrong. This time it was just her feeling unwell. But he pressed on until she started feeling torment growing inside herself. She was cold. He lay there by her side, fully dressed, and wold not let her cover. She was cold.
"Aren't you frustrated that you're naked but I've got my clothes on?"
"If I had felt bad about it, or frustrated, I would have undressed you. Or I would have made you undress. Now, come on, let me cover myself, I'm cold." He caressed her skin.
"No. You're beautiful. Don't you believe me?"
"No."
"Why?"
"You don't make compliments."
"Oh, but you are beautiful." He paused for a moment. "And do you know what the beauty of all this is? Tomorrow you won't know if I was serious or drunk." She felt like crying. She broke away from his arms and turned her back to him. She rolled herself into a bundle and cried for quite a long time. He surrounded her with warm, soothing caresses. When her flow of tears finally subsided, she asked for a napkin to blow her nose. He gave her one and inquired
"Why do you insist on being alone with yourself? Turn around, please." She turned. "Tell me, who harmed you so much? Aside from the kids who tormented you when you were in puberty. It's time you told someone; you can't hide forever. And I'm your best shot." She told him again the stories that troubled her.
"Nonsense. There are trully unhappy people, who have been sexually abused." So she recounted the two or three occasions that had a claim at being considered sexual abuse. "These are childish things. Until you break free from them and regard them as childish, you will not grow into a woman. And why do you think you're not beautiful?"
"I've got mirrors at home."
"You watch too much TV. How did you come to this conclusion? You looked in the mirror and then at the TV screen?
"Pretty much, yeah."
"Oh, girl, it's not quite like that. When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful?"
"I think Amy was the last to tell me that."
"No, no, I mean a man."
"... I can't remember."
"And why do you think you don't deserve me?"
"Because you've read so much more than me, because you know so much more, because you can do so much more..."
"Well, what do you think? Is it your oppinion that it's on a hierarchical basis, that the most __ man gets the most __ woman and so on?"
"Yes..." she said in a hesitant voice.
"Listen! Do you love me?" She nodded yes. She couldn't talk because she was crying, like she had been most of the time. "So why are you afraid then?" They were lying sideways, face to face in each other's arms. Her tears were trickling down on his cheek. Her nose was running again and she was trying desperately to stop the overflow. He turned her on her back. He looked at her from above, and put his tongue deeply in her right nostril, clearing it. Then kept on looking at her intently.
The realisation of it all hit her fully. She was watching him wide eyed, in speechless happyness. Right then she understood, beyond any possible doubt that he loved her. That he trully loved her. He concluded:
"See, isn't it a pity that you wasted almost three years doubting?" She kissed him. A deep, heart-felt kiss. "Truth be told, girl, you're very lucky."

Friday 2 June 2006