It was wonderful being again with someone I trusted entirely. To let my words flow, allowing myself to open my mind to a person who welcomed it and felt pleasure in sharing things with me. I wouldn't say that she would always understand what was going on with me, and sometimes I failed in understanding her feelings and thoughts, but we certainly tried our best. And that is certainly a lot more than you can expect from most people.
Marcelle and I had always been very different, in all aspects. Certainly, during the time we spent together, we taught a lot to each other. She was a very sensitive person, who could easily become very pleased or hurt, even though she would hide it well, underneath vulgar and careless behavior. She was a beautiful young woman, a lot taller than me, dressed up in insinuating clothes, with long wavy brown hair and hypnotizing hazel eyes.
About Erik, I told her all I could. Unfortunately, many things had to be left behind, for there was no way to put them into words. And by that I mean not only his appearance, but simple details, like the bewitching way he moved his body, the softness of his voice, and his eyes - always so sad and gentle, as they appeared to be the first time I saw them.
After hearing everything I told her, Marcelle didn't think it strange. She didn't think I was messing with a madman. She didn't tell me to go find a better man to fall in love with. Instead, she warned me, very seriously, that once I decided to fight for this man, there would be no way back. I agreed with her, but I couldn't tell how hard things would get in the future.
Marcelle took life in a libertine way, being able to cleverly adapt to new situations, or to comply with different rules, as soon as she could find advantageous things about them - which she always did. She was quite similar Claude in some aspects, except she owned a pure heart and he owned none. Few times I remember her complaining about things or lamenting...I guess she didn't think it was worth her time to prolong her disliking.
I remembered when, some years ago, we talked about her expectations for a new job, waiting on tables at the tavern her mother managed at the time. Marcelle was a rare exception in a time when society demanded perfect and immaculate attitudes, obliging people to follow an unnatural and artificial gama of rules, which affected the most intimate relationships. I admired her a great deal for that.
Questioned by me, she didn't bother pretending or keeping false appearances. She told me simply, in a half-joking tone, that at least this job allowed her to meet different men.
I laughed and asked how she managed to go out on so many dates, get involved with so many men - who were sometimes a lot older, and not deserving of Marcelle at all - and not feel guilty for doing so, or worry about an honorable reputation.
"Meg, there are many ways of getting involved with people. I, for example, chose the most superficial of them," she said, looking deep into my eyes and smiling gently.
Hearing that, I looked at her with an evident question stamped on my face. She continued, "You see, I've been with many of those fellows that you see around when you go to my mom's restaurant. They tell me a little about their lives, about their work, about their families, if they have one... I tell them a little about me, I smile at them, I allow them to touch me, if I feel like... And that's it." She continued naturally and calmly, "I never get to know them, and they never get to know me. It is all some talk, some touching...two absolute strangers, lonely, seeking company and entertainment in each other."
She definitely challenged the hypocratic and exigent society rules.
"That's sad..." I muttered, picturing myself going unsatisfied from man to man, or maybe just staying unsatisfied with one forever.
"Yes, I know, but that's how life is, and that's what everybody gets. Even those aristocrats from your Opera House. They can call what they have whatever they want to, but that's what it is...empty relationships, with unhappy people. That is why I never considered it a crime to go out with different people: my heart is closed and unreachable, and it will be so until I find someone I trust." She winked, changing the serious tone into a mockery. "So I suppose there is no reason to deprive myself from some fun until I meet this love of my life!"
We laughed together, and I thought she knew what she was talking about. Many times I considered introducing Marcelle to Christine, guaranteeing myself a fun time while watching the two of them talking.
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