“I don’t get it,” Marko said, stirring his coffee long after the sugar had dissolved. “I gave Sanja everything. Compliments. Gifts. I never raised my voice. I texted her good morning every single day for six years. And she left me for a guy who forgets her birthday.”
She left him after four years. Her note said: “You never even knew who I was. You just liked that I didn’t ask for anything.” Zasto Se Muskarci Zene Kuckama Cela Knjiga
He read the whole thing. Twice.
She replied three days later: “Read the book. Then call me. Not before.” “I don’t get it,” Marko said, stirring his