#240 Two hundred and forty
This is my 240th post since Janne died. I find comfort in numbers. Take the date today: twenty-nine is a prime number, my favorite type of number, a lucky number even.
Janne and I spent together 240 months, twenty years. A few weeks after I started writing about and for her, I thought it would be a great number to complete. I find comfort in numbers.
Why today? Janne and I met exactly 21 years ago. I was just sitting there when she walked into our German course with her green cargo pants, white woolen blouse, boots and black leather jacket. The only available place was next to me. We started talking right away, but it was mainly me as I was mesmerized since the first millisecond.
The class finished and she sprung out, afraid that someone would talk to her. I did go after her. Outside the class I asked her, “where are you staying?” She said, “at the Heerstraße student residence”. I said, “me too!” She lowered her shoulders relieved and said, “phew!” Our destinies and fates were decided at that moment.
Her eyes were bluish, purple even. A friend told me, “those are contact lenses”. I asked her and she confirmed it. She said, “my eyes are actually gray”. Just my favorite eye color, I told her. She said, “come on, everyone in Estonia has gray eyes”.
We went to have a beer. She excused herself to go to the toilet and asked me to order another beer for her. I had never ordered anything in German. I told the waiter, “bitte, ein helles Bier für die Frau und ein Hefeweizen für mich“. She came back and told me, “you ordered in German! I’m impressed”. This became my life for the next twenty years: I wanted to impress Janne.
I was so in love with her from the first minute. She wasn’t sure. I didn’t give up even uprooting my whole life and renouncing to whom I was before. She still was not sure. I was pushy with her, but she said that she didn’t want anything with me. I insisted and, in the end, she stayed with me. About five years ago, without any prompting from me, she told me, “thank you for being so stubborn for me”.
People ask me if I’m doing better. I am. For example, yesterday I got out of our freezer the last piece of salmon Janne bought with the intention that I should grill it for both of us which I never had the chance to do. Last week, I gathered the courage to collect all her cancer medicines in a bag, and yesterday took them to the pharmacy. I have to go through the spice cabinet (how many types of balsamic vinegars and oils you needed, Janne? That’s right, those were your magic salad dressings). Don’t get me started on the three big boxes full of her shoes or the closet with all those fancy clothes. My definition of “better” is different from most people’s.
At this stage, it should be evident how much I loved Janne. It should be clear that my love for her was out of this world. My love for her drove my life, my emotions, my thinking and my heart. I’d like to think that I did the same for her (but Janne, you were so cryptic).
I told my brother of my magic 240 number and he went to create a song with a friend. Janne, I’m sure, would be ecstatic. I told her that today in the cemetery. I said, “I don’t believe in god, but I do believe in you… I hope to see you again”. Same as when she was alive, she said nothing (Janne would have laughed at this joke).
Janne, your piercing beautiful eyes, your musical deep voice, your flowing brown hair, your aesthetic walk and style, they made my life for 20 years. My memories of you will make me whole. After all, not many people love as I have loved you and not many lovers get corresponded as you did love me.
Here is to our 240 months and 20 years together.
