There she goes (a little bit then)

‘I want to be with you.’ She looks at me with her big, loyal, blue eyes that I will stare into almost every day for the next five years and seems not to blink. I mumble that it can't be done. She works for an important client of ours, so I consider a transfer to us impossible. She persists. That she will leave there anyway, so if she continues to work with me, the client will still benefit. I hesitate. One day a week then. That will be my favorite day.

I hear her chuckling at a sentence from a piece I just sent her, I hear her referring to an article that was previously published on Amayzine and that resembles what we have now planned. I hear her say ‘Yes, please’ when someone suggests popping a cork from a bottle.

Adeline, Aad, Addie, Adelain but especially not Adelien is a constant factor at Amayzine. And at Franska. And at FavorFlav. And also at our parent company PilotStudio. Addie is always there and everywhere. She is the one who raises and lowers the shutters. Of the coffee (black and strong please, she finds milk bleh) and of the wine (red, white, anything is fine but J.Lohr is also a favorite at the Mans household). She is the one who says ‘Good morning’ in a sweet voice when I call and she picks up immediately.

She is the one who does not gossip and does not judge and who points us to the wide field and not to the tunnel. She is the one who can have a year of stomach pain from that one stupid piece that I wrote too hastily and for which she then feels responsible.

She is the one with the big heart.

And she is also the one with a great love. Or two great loves. One is named René, the other Greece. Or better said: Rhodes. The journey had already been planned for a few Septembers, but corona made the call louder. ‘What if?’ and ‘Why not?’ knocked on the door. And wasn’t writing ultimately what she loved the most?

So she called. I saw her name on my screen and knew: this means something. She is the type that doesn’t want to disturb and will always text. A phone call means she has gathered her courage, taken a breath, and clicked on my name. The question was whether we could walk the next day. My answer was whether she wanted to just rip off the band-aid now.

That she didn’t want to leave me, not Amayzine, but in a different role and from a different location.

So I wave her off today. As a boss, not as an editor. And now we still call nationally, but soon her phone will ring in Greece. One thing I know for sure, her voice will sound just as sweet, but perhaps even honey-sweeter than now.

Dearest Addie, I miss you to my left. Your gaze, your smile, your look. Dipping roots in the humus together, browsing and sniffing through a pile of books. I look forward to all the beautiful pieces you will continue to write for us and thank you a thousand times. What am I saying? A million times.