de Daria Moise<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\nTo\u0163i \u00eei spuneau a\u015fa. Prietenii apropia\u0163i, amicii, chiar \u015fi membri ai familiei. De ce? Nimeni nu \u015ftie exact. Probabil ceva se \u00eent\u00e2mplase \u00een anii demult trecu\u0163i de liceu c\u00e2nd citea celebrul roman. Sau poate nu se \u00eent\u00e2mplase nimic. Pur \u015fi simplu s-a trezit cu acest al doilea nume \u015fi \u00eel purta de at\u00e2ta vreme \u00eenc\u00e2t acum era convins c\u0103 \u00eei apar\u0163ine, c\u0103 se n\u0103scuse chiar \u00eenainte s\u0103 apar\u0103 romanul.
\nTotu\u015fi numele acesta nu avea nimic \u00een comun cu iubirea, a\u015fa cum nici el nu cunoscuse sentimentul \u00een realitate. Avea o via\u0163a banal\u0103. Lipsit\u0103 de orice sclipire de senza\u0163ional sau m\u0103car c\u00e2t de c\u00e2t interesant. Via\u0163a sa urma un traseu strict. Acela\u015fi \u00een fiecare zi f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 se abat\u0103 m\u0103car cu pu\u0163in din program. Dimine\u0163ile erau mereu acelea\u015fi, cu aceea\u015fi can\u0103 albastr\u0103 din care bea mereu acela\u015fi ceai lipsit de gust. Serile erau acelea\u015fi, monotone, \u00een fa\u0163a aceluia\u015fi televizor, urm\u0103rind filme pe care le v\u0103zuse de cel pu\u0163in 3 ori p\u00e2n\u0103 atunci. De ce le revedea? Probabil pentru c\u0103 spera de fiecare dat\u0103 c\u0103 acum se va termina altfel. Dar filmele se \u00eenc\u0103p\u0103\u0163\u00e2nau s\u0103 aib\u0103 mereu acela\u015fi final insipid.
\nT\u00e2njea dup\u0103 un moment de lini\u015fte \u00een toat\u0103 monotonia aceea. \u00ce\u015fi dorea din tot sufletul s\u0103 se \u00eent\u00e2mple ceva. S\u0103 cioc\u0103ne din gre\u015feal\u0103 cineva la u\u015fa lui \u015fi el s\u0103 se poat\u0103 ridica greoi de pe canapea \u015fi s\u0103 parcurg\u0103 drumul scurt din living p\u00e2n\u0103 la u\u015f\u01ce \u00eentreb\u00e2ndu-se de zeci de ori cine ar putea fi. Tremur\u00e2nd de emo\u0163ie, s\u0103 deschid\u0103 u\u015fa \u015fi privind chipul ru\u015finat al celui care a ciocanit s\u0103 spun\u0103 z\u00e2mbind: “Nu, aici nu locuie\u015fte domnul Popescu.” \u015ei pe drumul de \u00eentoarcere c\u0103tre canapea s\u0103 se \u00eentrebe cine oare o fi domnul Popescu? St\u01ce mai sus sau mai jos? \u015ei cine oare era cel care \u00eel c\u0103uta? S\u0103 fie rud\u0103? Prieten? Sau nu \u00eel cunoa\u015fte? \u015ei sutele de \u00eentreb\u0103ri i-ar fi umplut seara.
\nIubirea, citise atat de multe despre ea \u00eenc\u00e2t de multe ori avea sentimentul c\u01ce nici ea nu-i mai putea oferi ceva nou. P\u00e2n\u01ce la urma ce era? Subiectul obsesiv al tuturor poetilor, romancierilor, nuveli\u015ftilor, filosofilor. Toti se str\u01ceduiau \u00een fel \u015fi chip s\u01ce-l explice, s\u01ce-l descrie a\u015fa cum \u00eel sim\u0163iser\u01ce, unii chiar reu\u015feau s\u01ce-\u0163i ofere iluzia de a \u015fi sim\u0163i. Pentru pu\u0163in timp dar…
\nTotul se reducea la F\u01cet Frumos, care dup\u01ce \u00eendelungi pribegii o \u00eent\u00e2lne\u015fte pe Ileana Cos\u00e2nzeana \u015fi tr\u01ceiesc ferici\u0163i p\u00e2n\u01ce la ad\u00e2nci b\u01cetr\u00e2ne\u0163i.\u00a0
\nAiurea! El nu era \u015fi nici nu a fost vreodat\u01ce un F\u01cet Frumos \u015fi cu siguran\u0163\u01ce nici nu va ajunge s\u01ce fie vreodat\u01ce. \u015ei nici nu aprecia caii albi. Cu siguran\u0163\u01ce o astfel de iubire nu poate fi menit\u01ce dec\u00e2t basmelor cu care adormim copiii, iubire dup\u01ce care suspin\u01ce nostalgic adul\u0163ii.\u00a0
\n“Eh.. Iubirea!” r\u00e2se el \u00een timp ce umplea cana albastr\u01ce cu ceai ne\u00eendulcit. De ce ne\u00eendulcit? Pentru c\u01ce nu dorea s\u01ce-\u015fi ofere de diminea\u0163\u01ce iluzia unei zile pl\u01cecute. De fapt refuza tot ce ar fi putut \u00eensemna iluzie, visare. Realitate \u015fi at\u00e2t. De ce s\u01ce te \u00eencarci cu dezam\u01cegiri? Ceaiul nu are gust. Nu are rost s\u01ce-l \u00eenv\u01celui \u00eentr-o arom\u01ce de miere dulceag\u01ce \u015fi parfumat\u01ce.\u00a0
\nIe\u015fi din cas\u01ce \u015fi porni spre birou. Acela\u015fi num\u01cer de pa\u015fi \u00een fiecare zi. Uneori num\u01cerul lor varia cu pu\u0163in, \u00een special \u00een zilele ploioase, c\u00e2nd trotuarul se umplea de b\u01cel\u0163i peste care se chinuia s\u01ce sar\u01ce \u00een \u00eencercarea disperat\u01ce de a nu-\u015fi stropi pantalonii de stof\u01ce sau pantofii.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
de Daria Moise To\u0163i \u00eei spuneau a\u015fa. Prietenii apropia\u0163i, amicii, chiar \u015fi membri ai familiei. De ce? Nimeni nu \u015ftie exact. Probabil ceva se \u00eent\u00e2mplase \u00een anii demult trecu\u0163i de liceu c\u00e2nd citea celebrul roman. Sau poate nu se \u00eent\u00e2mplase nimic. Pur \u015fi simplu s-a trezit cu acest al doilea nume \u015fi \u00eel purta […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[739,15],"tags":[791,1153,1115],"class_list":["post-7573","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-32","category-proza","tag-daria-moise","tag-egophobia-32","tag-proza"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-1Y9","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7573","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7573"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7573\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7574,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7573\/revisions\/7574"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7573"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7573"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7573"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}