In midsummer 1996, Katherine said goodbye to me. We went into the neighbour's garden for our farewell. As I was cutting roses, I hurt my finger. My blood stuck to the roses. Catherine took the roses in her hands, embraced me and whispered into my ear, "Ciao, Renato!"
The following day, I got a letter from her:
My dear Renato,
You deserve someone who will love and cherish you. I have no time in my life, no space in my heart for such a relationship. There are many women who are interested in you - seek them out - you deserve the best.
Katherine.
So I gave up all hope. I didn't telephone, I didn't write, I didn't send any more flowers. I withdrew into my shell and concentrated on my work and my hobbies. I focused my attention on my immediate surroundings in Sarajevo.
Katherine also remained silent. She no longer contacted me. I heard through mutual friends that she sometimes spent her time with Ralf and, at the weekends, travelled with him around the country or to the Dalmatian coast.
No news at all ... weeks passed by ... still no news ... even more weeks ... not a single word exchanged between us.