ilya

this is very difficult.
so difficult that all the rest seems so silly and insignificant.
i wanna go back to russia to hug all these people going through the same as i do here.
hug them and breathe equally hard.
i get calls from them every now and then. and call them myself.
they're so amazing, they hold on and do their best to support each other.
but this is so difficult. i could have never imagined anything of that sort.
people like him can never die. they should live forever.
cause they're what makes this world worth-while.

you're here with us, ilya.
always here by our side.
always wiser and elder.
so much stronger. and better.

at your funeral somebody proposed a toast, 'for living the way he would have liked us to'.
'that's impossible', people around shook their heads.
'for doing our best in it', ksenia corrected.

i love you, ilya.
i guess i've never told you that.
but i hope you can hear me.
cause apparently i do.

@темы: the US, Москва

---

Илья

в воскресенье были похороны.

было невыносимо тяжело.
осознать до конца, что произошло, совершенно невозможно.
ты делаешь что-то на автомате, идешь куда-то, обнимаешь порой едва знакомых людей, говоришь.
вот только как под толщей воды: звуки приглушены, картинки замедленны и расплывчаты. реакция заторможена.
как в трансе.
на улице у входа, как зомби, ходят люди. все молчат. у кого-то дрожат губы, курят одну за одной.
там пронизывающий ветер и холодно невероятно, но едва ли кто-то замечает.
кто-то беззвучно подходит обнять или еле заметно кивает.
Юля хлюпает мне в плечо, наконец находит силы собраться и тихо шепчет: "чудовищный повод встречаться". хуже не придумаешь.
вокруг люди, составляющие твою картину мира и им так плохо. и от этого еще хуже.
хочется помочь, вот только невозможно.
хотя бы от себя отогнать мысль о том, что больше никогда. это не умещается в голове.
на родителей не хватает сил смотреть. обнимаешь брата, крепко-крепко, до боли крепко, пытаясь придать ему сил.

в траурном зале несколько десятков людей.
все стараются держаться. только то и дело с разных концов слышишь упорно сдерживаемый, но таки вырывающийся наружу плач.
брат Ильи воет, как подстреленный зверь, в плечо его лучшего друга.
нужно прощаться. ты подходишь и кажется, что он вот-вот встанет. он просто спит, а сейчас проснется и громко надо всеми посмеется.
вот только он не просыпается.
ты держишься и обнимаешь людей, крепко сжимаешь руки и держишься, держишься.
на экране сотни фотографий и играет его любимая музыка.
и ты помнишь эти песни, вы ведь подвевали им в его машине, несясь по ночной Москве.
ты помнишь эти фотографии, это знакомые места, а некоторые и вовсе снимал именно ты.
и всплывают картинки: смеющийся Илья, строящий рожи Илья, Илья, приезжавщий за тобой в два часа ночи, Илья, сидящий напротив и готовящий тебе салат.
всхлипы наполняют зал.
и ты не выдерживаешь, прорывает, начинают катиться слезы, а ты думаешь: только бы беззвучно, только бы хоть это смочь.
и обязательно кто-то оказывается рядом. обнимает. а сам дрожит от такого же полного боли плача. кто-то еще утыкается в плечо, ты даже не знаешь кто.

а потом были поминки. те же десятки людей.
зал полон его фотографий, около двухсот штук. самых разных. и он смотрит с них и улыбается.
и невольно, видя фотографию на уровне его роста, дергаешься, потому что первая мысль - это он, нужно улыбнуться и обнять. вот только обнять некого.
все говорят тосты и вспоминают в них нелепейшие истории, смешные и жизнерадостные.
люди говорят и улыбаются, не прекращая плакать.
кто-то вспоминает его смс и фразы. "я люблю жизнь". "все будет хорошо, нужно только время".
вспоминаешь его письма, всегда длинные и такие регулярные. полные счастья и наслаждения мелочами, которые едва кто умеет замечать и ценить.
и понимаешь, что мало кто любил жизнь так сильно, как этот человек. и именно он ее лишился. так рано.
на улице постоянно сменяющие друг друга люди, не замечая друг друга, бесцельно бродят из стороны в сторону по переулку, пытаясь придти в себя.
в какой-то момент ты находишь себя обнимающим его отца, который держится. он жадно тебя слушает, а ты улыбаешься, рассказываешь смешное и светлое, вот только чувствуешь, как предательски катятся по щеке слезы. и ты не в силах их остановить. и так стыдно за слабость, ты улыбаешься, искренне, но слезы текут.
внезапно лучший друг восклицает на весь зал: "ты с нами, слышишь? с нами ты!!" и в этом столько боли и утраты, что все отводят глаза.
ты выходишь на улицу, сползаешь голой спиной по ледяной стене, сжимаешься как зверенок, и подходит друг.
ты не поднимаешь глаз, зная, что и он ищет силы и не находит. наконец, он делает вход, треплет тебя за плечи и говорит: "наш друг не любит зануд. пойдем выпьем".
все пьют, водку и коньяк. стопку за стопкой. к концу вечера из горла.
и потом качают головами: "не берет". а ты киваешь: "и я хочу напиться".
все хотят. но не получается.
родители рассказывают, как он учился, с кем дружил, как сдавал экзамены в гаи и говорил колкости.
друзья говорят про учебу, гулянки и кафешки. про идеальный музыкальный вкус и чувство юмора.
про то, как жили у него, когда дома были проблемы.
и с одной стороны, так тяжело, что хочется заткнуть уши и бежать куда глаза глядят.
а с другой, это его частички, разные стороны, не всегда тебе известные, которые хочется впитать, узнать все, запомнить.
как безумно сильно ты боишься что-нибудь забыть. какое-нибудь слово или жест.
родители раздают свои телефоны и просят звонить и приезжать.
они смотрят вокруг и в какой-то момент плачут уже по-другому и качают головой: "мы даже и не представляли, что он был такой. мы думали, он только для нас был особенный". нет, для всех.
рассказывают о его последних минутах и о том, как он боролся.
и нам нужно.
вот только сдают даже самые крепкие и стойкие с утра.
под конец вы танцуете, с закрытыми глазами, в голос подпевая музыке, чтобы заглушить - если не мыслями, то хотя бы звуком.
измотать себя так, чтобы не было сил думать.

в час ночи ты выходишь на улицу ловить машину и хочется кричать от бессилия и отчаяния.
вокруг какие-то люди и они смеются. они даже не представляют, что произошло.
а мы такие счастливые, плачущие, измотанные, но такие счастливые, что его знали. и знаем. ведь он с нами.

и хочется, с одной стороны, чтобы это осталось позади.
а с другой, все-все-все помнить. каждую историю, каждую интонацию.
и второе пересиливает.

сегодня мы смотрели футбол у его родителей. мы шутили, родители смеялись. искренне.
но все, все чувствовали, что смех слишком громкий и что, едва человек выходит за дверь, слышится глубокий вдох - перевести дух, держаться, держаться.
потому что это как камнем над тобой.
когда ты ничего не делаешь, просто невозможно.
но даже когда ты смеешься, так давит. эта тень, это знание, которое еще не осознание и не факт, что когда-то таковым в полной мере будет.
может, в этом спасение.

и все в другом свете. дипломная работа, конференции, отсутствие денег, проблемы с Лероем - это даже не на второй план отходит.
это сужается, уменьшается до таких ничтожных размеров, что становится страшно: как это могло раньше столько значить?
как ты смел кричать, что жизнь говно и жаловаться?
черт возьми! да как же ты смел? и ведь через какое-то время наверняка не раз еще так сделаешь, хотя сейчас клянешься, что больше никогда.
все мелочи. и ничего не трогает. все это такая ерунда. такая микроскопическая пыль.

"только время", говорит по телефону мама и обещает приехать ко мне в Америку.
а друзья звонят каждые полчаса и несут как буто беззаботную ерунду, так легко и жизнерадостно, но снова слишком так. и ты смеешься, но снова слишком.
вы не спрашиваете друг у друга, как дела, но этот вопрос вместе с "эгей, держись" в каждом слове и каждой упорно заполняемой чем угодно паузе.
но вы все принимаете эти правила, прекрасно понимая иллюзорность игры, потому что иначе просто никак.
и обещаете держаться вместе воимя. и хранить память.
я, наверное, буду дописывать этот пост. чтобы не дай Бог не забыть.


я завтра улетаю обратно в Штаты.
и там будет легче. но часть хочет остаться. здесь. чтобы быть ближе.
хотя он же теперь везде. везде близко-близко.
но хочется быть именно с этими людьми, с теми, кто знает и понимает, какую невосполнимую потерю пережил весь мир, с теми, кто любит, помнит.
с теми, кому сейчас так же больно. и с теми, кто героически держится, чтобы поддержать остальных таких же. а ведь нас много.


Илья, я тебя люблю!
и твой лучший друг прав, ты же знаешь, ты навсегда с нами.

@темы: Москва

---

my friend died.
flying to moscow to the funeral.

@темы: the US

---

request

i know one of leroy's coworkers, brian. i met him a couple of times at parties.
they're not that close but definitely like each other.
and i believed he was a programer. that's just the ticket.
i asked jared to find his phone number for me, cause they should have many friends in common.
jarr didn't like the idea of me getting into it again, but even less did he enjoy the idea of seing me like this any longer.

this weekend i spent indoors.
i cleaned the apartment, was working on my scientific articles and was listening to sting.
oh, yeah, and smoking.
alone.
no jared, no anybody.
every time he came over i asked him politely but insistently to go cause i wanted to be alone.
i didn't pay attention to what he was saying.
i was completely delusioned.

so jared didn't really have a choice, cause this guy really loves me as well as i love him.
we're way different, but got along somehow. and need each other.
like little wild animals huddling up one to another for warmth.

he got me brian's number.
i called brian this morning. of course he knew the whole deleting story and sounded offensive.
but must have sounded really desperate, cause he gave up and finally listened to me.
i begged him to work on the laptop and manage to find data on when the crucial changes have been made.
i really begged. iat that moment it really was a hanging matter.
he sighed and promised me to do his best. and let me know when he's done.
now i'm waiting.

yes, i'm a jealous bitch, but i didn't delete anything and i need leroy to know the truth.

and i called leroy before getting a call from brian, cause i couldn't wait any more.
but his cell was off, so i left a message on his answering machine.
i told him i missed him. and that i'm very jealous. and hate to see him with another girl, hate to even think about it.

that was fair, i thought to myself.
that's honest at the very least.
i was dying to tell him that.
regardless of the consequences.

@темы: the US

---

fuck

leroy's got a new girlfriend.
i didn't see that coming.
i was about to call. and explain. no matter what.
and was imagining weekends we could have had and sort of was about to have in my head.
and now he's with another girl.
and that hurts. really hurts.
and i'm crying right now while typing.
this doesn't happen often.
shit shit shit shit shit.
why?
holy crap, why are you doing this to me?
why, god damn why?

@темы: the US

---

trust

as a matter of fact, my drinking excercises are getting too frequent.

my russian friend, i haven't heard anything from over last couple of month, called me today asking for help.
'mel, there's nobody else i can go with it to,' he told me, 'nobody esle i can tell my password - it's the same everywhere: in social networks, on my credit card, on all the accounds - everywhere.'
he told me his password and explained what i was supposed to do. i did everything.
and since i miss the guy and i'm so interested in what's happening with him and know nothing, the idea and the opportunity of going through his e-mails was very alluring.
but after his speech about him trusting me, the first thing i did after doing what he asked me to was i pressed the 'log out' button.
and it felt right.

this feeling is always so welcome.
when it feels right. it's rare, but so pleasant.
for me it's the only sure sign of me doing something that's worth it, of making right decisions and moving in the right direction.
sometimes you just go for it and it doesn't really make sense even in your head.
but it feels right. nevertheless. regardless.
so right that you can't even make yourself analyze the reasons and consequences.
and this sign has always proved itself right.

@темы: the US

---

literature

every day i write essays for scholarships, every day i get dozens of e-mails from different professors to my side-kick - 24/7, period.
yesterday we had a mexican party at jared's - with fajitas, mojito and lots of pepper. and rum.
i slept for three hours and now was waken up by my advisor telling me to write an abstract of my work and send it till noun. awesome.
with alcohols still in my blood and therefore head an abstract of a scientific work would definitely be excellent.

as for the rest, non-scientific stuff, i miss parents.
and my jewish friend felix who is now in israel.
and - i admit - leroy. seems like he meant more to me than i gave him credit for.

okay, more orange juice. no, more water at first.
then more orange juice, cold shower and an abstract!

@темы: the US

---

classes

everybody around here in the us is being impossibly, incredibly, unbelievably helpful.
it's probably something you can't completely get used to even after facing it thousants of times in a raw.
russia is way too different. is the opposite - at least in that case.
everobody is eager to help and instruct and support, but this scholarship prolongation process is really exhausting.
lots of letters, recommendations, reports on different subjects to deal with... argh!

i want to sleep.

'you know, jarr, if this whitfield arranges it all for me somehow,' i told him abour my scientific advisor, 'i'll be all for him, seriously.'
'like all-all?' he asked suspiciously.
'yeah, full service all,' i rolled my eyes.
'wow, you're being horny,' he was delighted. 'it's like this sexual part of you has finally ben awakened and now is up and doing.'

he's planning a trip to chicago, at least his boss plans it for him.
and since he's gonna be gone, he offered me his car to go and visit my sister.
that sounds just perfect.

and prof. whitfield is considering bringing me to a scientific conference in atlanta with him next month.
and that might mean that after his trip my miles on bonus delta airlines program would be enough for me to visit my parents for free!
yippi!

but i have even more things to do to make it happen.

crap.

@темы: the US

---

tired

i'm awefully tired. i'm fuckin exhausted. and that's just an understatement.
i've probably gotten too far in this hard working approach over past week.
i slept for 13 hours straight and yet i'm yawny and starved of sleep.
i'm eating pomelos with a spoon and try to concentrate on my work but it doesn't really work.

and yeah, listening to 'remember me' soundtrack.
the nickel dropped later with the movie. it never let go of me.
wanna turn off the lights, leave my cell in the other room and see it again.
but it's not available yet in a good quality on the internet, nor in stores.

dang, i'm sleepy. i'm really sleepy.


ps
a waggish observation on leroy.
i didn't write so many posts in here while we were dating.
that should have counted for something, huh?
apparently he did find his way and swayed my mind. did hook me.


and some news i got a couple of days ago.
alexander is sick there in st petersburg.
the illness is not dangerous but a nasty one.
i'm bewildered. and feel so weird.
a part of me is dying to call and do everything to make him feel better. to know everything about his disease. to knock off all the rest.
but it's more of a habit than a real response to the information i got.
at the same time the other part of me - doesn't feel the way it's expected to feel. it feels like i'm not so attached as i seemed to be.
yes, i do care and of course hope he'll get better as soon as possible. but that's it, isn't it?
and that second part is dominant, it's prevealing.
besides it doesn't feel like it's a protetive response, self-defence directed not to harrow feelings.
but i really feel like it's far away.
yeah, i finally got the right explanation: it's far away.
and i'm right here and right now.

i'd given him a call but his cell had been switched off and i gave up the thought
and sent him an e-mail instead telling to feel free to address me in case he might need anything.
not a call, not even a text, something less personal and significant.
and called a friend if him, a nice and young girl named jenia asking to take a good but very unostentatious care of him - something i would have never done before.
she fought against a serious disease for more than a year and knows better than anybody else how does it feel.
she should be sensitive and thoughful enough to treat him in the best way.

don't wanna draw conclusions, but about one thing i'm absolutely positive:
all of this is very revealing and meaningful.

@темы: the US

---

morning

i finally got some money from my programmers job. and instead of visiting my parents bought a laptop to be able to earn more money.
and let me tell you, that was a tough decision to make! or so to say to accept its obvious correctness.

my dearest friend jared made me french toast for breakfast and of course joined me, eating at least two thirds of it.
'so,' jared finallt got to the point, 'what about your nice guy?'
'he's not my guy any more. probably as nice as he was though,' i shrugged.
'i mean, no sorting things out?' he demamnded.
'nope, not at all.' i answered.
'are you okay with that?' he asked then.
'well, i'm not used to these unanswered questions, loose ends are not really my style,' i admitted. 'but he's messed up so whatever.'
'i thought you're sort of an expert in serious relatioship and wanted to ask advice,' he smirked, 'but i'm probably talking to the wrong girl.'
'oh really? like don't waste your time? nice!' i mumbled.
'yeah, exactly,' he nodded seriously.
'oh, you're being so mean!' i dagged him, 'come on, give a share of it! what, a girl stands you up after an incredible night you've spent together?'
he looked puzzled, 'as a matter of fact, yeah.'
i tried to compose my face and look serious, 'well, that's complex. let's think of the most probable explanations in accordance with prevailing opinions and clearly reliable sourses within psychology and sexology experts'.
he did look at me in astonishment so i happened to be good playing my part.
'most likely, i think,' i continued then, satisfied with an effect a managed to have on him, 'you fucked up in bed!'
he was really insulted. but then took a grip of himself and said, 'baby, my girls are the luckiest ever. don't envy.'
he knew he got me and settled the score easily, so he grinned and added with the smuggest smile he was capable of, 'besides, sometimes a banana is just a banana.'
i choked on my toast. took a few sips of orange juice and only then could answer, 'you know, jarr, that was the most unexpected comment coming from you ever. ever!!'
we laughed.

i wonder what would it be like if he wasn't there for me?
i'm not sure i could face it all alone. with no one by my side.

@темы: the US

---

bachelor's

i'm back to spending days in the library.
fortunately the library in mit is great.
books all arond, staircases and ladders and globes on some book cases.
chairs and tables here and there,computer and internet access.
colorful lamps and carpets and quiet pages rustle.
it's so peaceful and secure.

i was looking for some articles my advisor recommended in the information computer when the librarian sneaked up behind me, 'oh, my dear, there you are again. welcome back.'
i was kinda nice. she is a plumpish woman in her sixties, mother-like or so to say momma-like, with a warm smile and glasses on the tip of her nose.
'oh, mrs reed,' i looked back at her. 'thanks.'
'i was worried about you,' she went on, 'right from the start you were acting like a very responsible student - every time you had i minute you came over here. considering you being such a pretty girl your personal life submerged by studies was odd, but i got used to it. and then you were gone!'
'yeah,' i smiled at her parental tone. 'well, my personal life emerged. not for long though.'
'you know what, dear?' she touched my eldow carefully and conspiratorially leaned closer to tell me something secret, 'he's sure to be a fool.'
'he sure is,' i whispered back.
she looked at me deliberately, trying to figure out how i feel, i guessed. something in my face convinced her i was fine, she slightly nodded to herself and said, 'but as long as you're here let's noqt waste time! let me help you, dear. what are you looking for?'

jared calls me a bach and laughs.
he throws popato chips on my couch and says that's the way true bachelors behave.
'something you should learn,' he adds.
'clean it up,' i wrinkle, 'now.'
'you pulled a monica,' he announces tragically.

the longer you live in a foreigh country, the less calls and messages you get from where you came from.
sometimes you want to scream across the ocean: hey, guys, that's still me, come on!
but why would you?
when instead of missing russia all you focus on is trying to get a prolonged scholarship here.
and arrogantly buy yourself a funky american cell phone side-kick with two-years contract.

but i'd like to see my parents all the same.

@темы: the US

---

ironic

my friend dasha called me a week ago to tell about one more painful breakup she was going through.
we talked boys and i mentioned leroy very carefully not to hurt her feelings.
however i didn't succed in that and dasha complained, 'how come it always works like that for you? if you date somebody that's something worthful, serious! and with me it's a complete disappointment most of the time. they all turn out to be douche bags or married. teach me! how do you find boys?'
'you're exaggerating,' i said, 'it's not always serious. remember my japanese affair with nijo.'
'artem, alexander, leroy - is that not enough? for all the nerve!' she exclaimed.
i only smiled then at the though of leroy in that list of main men of my life. i tried to imagine him becoming as important and i could think of it. not back then but in future.
and now we're off. so silly and stupidly.
i remember about the conversation and though of calling dasha to please her with news.
although it's half past five in moscow - not the best time for a call.
damn it.

i'd better go ask jarred about how to call a plumber cause the sound of my toilet leaking is getting on my nerves.

@темы: the US

---

shivani bitch

that’s just perfect. we're off.
roy called me in the afternoon and sounded exhausted and bewildered, said he was in a lather.
so i came over to his office at the end of his working day, with coffee the way he likes it, donuts and bagels from dunkin’ donuts and a laptop he gave me cause my died recently – planning on having a quiet hang-loose night including his work, my studying and more.
and it was all so fine! his face softened the moment he saw me there standing at the entrance, he shook his head in disbelief and headed towards me grinning wickedly.
we had a junk-food dinner at his place. then he kept calling everyone discussing some business, i couldn’t keep up so was simply doing my own scientific research.
late at night he finally gave up, put his cell away and came to kneel down right next to me lying on his couch.
‘i hate not being with you when you’re around. and i hate my work unfinished being on plate. and it tears me to pieces.’ his expression was wistful but he was smiling at me gently, ‘no solution adequate for all intents and purposes, not at all. that’s irritating.’
‘hey, hustler, switch over – now’, i encouraged him cause i knew perfectly well what he meant so i knew i had to distract him, ‘to me. work – off, girlfriend – on. command accepted?’
he grinned, ‘mm, a restart is required’.
‘i think we can handle it’.
‘handle it, then’, he prompted, his faint smile mocking.

and it was amazing. so amazing that apparently we overslept and the morning came in a blur.
roy was speaking on the phone in a rush and trying to grasp something in his documents while cleaning his teeth. he was being crabby but tried to keep it down.
he’s already been late for a briefing, so i refused him give me a ride and promised to figure something out on my own. and since i’ve already been late for my class, the decision was pretty easy to make – i was to ditch till lunch.
while i was watching amazing dull breakfast tv shows roy called to inform that his workfellow needs an access to some stuff on my laptop. it would only take a few hours, i’ll get it back by the evening, but the good news was that it was urgently needed so this fellow was on his way and promised to give me a ride to MIT. okay, no prob.

it hardly ever happens with me but i took an instant dislike to this woman – yes, the fellow turned out to be a woman. she gave me a ride, carried the laptop and even held the doors for me but there was something repulsive about shivani i couldn’t put a finger on. it’s not a big deal, i thought to myself, whatsoever.

roy called me a couple of hours later asking if i’d deleted anything on the laptop or set passwords to any folders. obviously my answer was a downright no. he hummed deliberating for a while, then mumbled something about the evening and hung up.
i was waiting for roy at my place, but he didn’t show up at 7 p.m. so i waited assuming that he’s really busy. but he didn’t show up after 30 more minutes and didn’t bother to call.
i called then.
‘i’m busy right now, but i’ve got to talk to you - will get back to you when i’m done here,’ he whipped out.
that was weird. that was really weird. and in a very bad way.
the crappy part was i couldn’t thing of a single reason for him to be angry with me. cause we overslept? so it’d be like: i’m angry with you cause we overslept cause we had a hell of a night during which he had sex not once but twice after you came to my office with my favorite food to cheer me up? okay, forget about the food. but anyway: would a normal guy ever say or even thing anything of that sort? hell, no!
it made me completely restless. i can’t stand the looseness, literally, especially in relationship.
i was worrying, trying to think of something, replaying the night over and over again trying to think it all out. it was a waste.

he knocked on my door at 9 p.m. or so.
and announced that i had deleted some vital business documentary and set a password on the rest of it. it didn’t make sense! at all! it was an insanity.
it was a statement, not a question the way he put it. he looked at me with watchful eyes but his face was a carefully composed mask and he was accusing me of doing something so stupid i couldn’t believe i really heard it. i couldn’t believe these words came from his mouth, mouth i kissed him on last night fiercely.
‘i didn’t,’ i finally said in a faint voice.
‘didn’t you?,’ he smirked bitterly, ‘so that would be me who set a password – quote - russia’.
i was trying to grasp any of it but I couldn’t.
meanwhile he went on, ‘our IT-team is good, they’ve dealt with it – long after’.
‘and the password was russia?’, i wanted to get it straight.
‘you tell me’, he pressed his lips together, starring at me through narrowed eyes.
‘i didn’t do it. roy, seriously, i didn’t – why would i do it – to you? why would I do it at all?’, i tried to compose myself.
‘i don’t know why. i couldn’t let in a thought, not until i saw the password my guys have been working on’, he looked at me incredulously.
‘roy, i promise, i didn’t. i wouldn’t have done anything like that to you – to anybody, but especially to you. come on, give it a second thought,’ i wasn’t thinking of what i was saying.
‘i did, trust me, a second, a third and many more thoughts,’ he said drily. ‘did you really think it’d be fun? a nice joke, a prank? or what, a revenge for me being busy the other night? i’m sorry, i have to work, you know, to afford a car, an apartment – to buy stuff. i’m really sorry to bother you with the truth, don’t wanna bust your bubble here, but that’s what they call reality. not playing games that cause troubles to dozens of people who have other things to do, i’m not even talking about playing me for a fool in front of my staff. what was that, ammie, what the hell was that?’, now i finally saw the fury he was trying to control in the beginning.
and burst out.
‘ss that really what you think of me? a psycho in a playpen, unaware of what life is and seeing the only point in sneaking the close ones? getting you into trouble? so stupid and uninventive that i couldn’t think of a better password not to be caught? and at the same time insidious enough to sidetrack you with all the food and nice stuff? and so bitchy, so stern that i’d have sex with you afterwards – to celebrate the success and make fun of you? is that the way you see me?’, i was trying to suppress my tears and stop shivering.
‘i don’t know you,’ he blurted out shortly.
‘that’s it,’ i exhaled, ‘turns out you don’t.’
he was silent. i couldn’t stand watching him staying there, I felt like shit and my self-control was exceeding its' limits.
‘you know what, get out,’ i said, and now he looked puzzled.
‘so you admit it?’ he asked, confused expression froze in place.
‘i admit that i wanna have nothing to do with anybody, fucking me and yet considering me nothing, implicitly believing anybody, every stranger, but not me,’ i was shaking. ‘get out, just get out!’
i pushed him out and closed the door behind.

i've never told anyone 'get out'. i always tried to explain, to explain myself. to work things out.
but that was to much. it was completely over the top.
for me a relationship means more than sex, it implies trust. and i was absolutely positive that it works the same way for him.
turns out i was dating a stranger as well. perfect.

@темы: the US

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nice

i love it when man's tone is tight, controlled cause he's got something important to tell you but all he can think of is to have sex with you.
his blazing eyes stare at you in the limited light, his breath is quickening in anticipation, his jaw set.
his voice gets husky, he swallows to collect himself while tucking the lock behind your ear, but that's proved to be a wasted attempt.
cause you can feel blood being electric in your veins..
ooooooooooh.

@темы: the US

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cinema

i’d probably sound like an average narrow-minded and shallow teenage girl but i should say this:
the vampire guy from 'twilight' named robert pattinson was devastatingly, stunningly hot in his new movie 'remember me'.
i kept harping on one string on leroy’s ear ‘he’s hot, he’s so hot’.
i should give him a credit for his patience, cause it definitely took him some effort to endure and see out with regard to my endless commentaries.
he chuckled under his breath from time to time but as for the rest behaved himself with gallantry and restraint.

later that night when i was unbuttoning his shirt, leroy teased me, ‘wait, wait’.
‘what?’, i asked bewildered.
‘you’re so hyper i want to get this straight - are you imagining pattinson in front of you?’, he asked wryly.
‘even if i do? it works fine for you, doesn’t it?’, i had a dig.
‘yeah’, he responded, ‘but please keep this ‘yeah, robby, yeah’ to yourself, okay?’.
‘i’ll do my best, robby - whoops’.
‘you, little -’, he ground his teeth together.
‘what?’, i teased him this time.
‘clip’, he ended the phrase.

@темы: the US

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names

oh yeah, one more.
leroy's childhood friends call him lee instead of roy i'm used to.
'lee?', i asked him, 'is that the way you like it?'.
'it's just them', he replied. 'my boston friends call me roy mostly, and it's almost ten years since i moved there so i'm fine with both roy and lee'.
'and your parents? how do they call you?', i asked then.
'roy', he replied and then asked, 'what do you like more?'.
'roy', i smiled, 'it fits you. it's royal, sort of, aristocratic'.
'how do your parents call you? i know you have waggish pet names in russia', leroy said.
'oh with my name it's tricky. my grandma calls me lenie, mum goes with sweethearts and honeys and dad usually uses my full name. and it certainly gives room for interpretation so my friends take advantage and use all their imagination to play with it.'
'what's your favourite?', leroy asked then.
'what do you wanna hear, arrogant boy? me saying mellow?', i teased him.
'why can't you just answer a guestion for a change?', he pretended to be offended.
'mm.. let me think.. mellow?', i said then.
'now i'd have to think of a new one', leroy said.
'why?', i laughed.
'the look on your face when you said that', he didn't finish the sentence but made an eloquent wry face, 'eeew'.

@темы: the US

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wow

i had one of the most amazing weekends ever!!

me and leroy, we went to rhode island.
we were living in a house with glass doors, huge windows and almost no walls. it was all white and modern. and enormously big.
it was finally sunny and pretty warm.
so at first we spent the whole day outside, walking down the shore and having improvised basket picnic on the creek.
and then we got home, where we had lots of dvds, fancy food and american snacks.
the agreement was: no working, no studying. but to talk turkey it didn't even occur to do anything of the above.
cause we were finally relaxed. not distracted by jared or anybody. and it actually helped.

on the second day we met roy's old friends. had some fun with them.
they told me all these always amusing and always embarassing childhood stories - about him playing soccer and first attempts to hit on girls in elementary school.
i've already learned at first hand that to know a person for real you should watch him surrounded by his old friends.
cause being put in this warm and appealing atmosphere everybody is different. show is over, no performances, nothing artificial, you get a 100% genuine man.
i'm not saying that people are always pretending to be what they're not under other circumstances. no, but seriously this childhood method is the most revealing.
with leroy and his friends it was so easy, so sincere, his laughter was so undissembled that it was so gosh indearing i couldn't stand it. in a good way.
after all the stories leroy said, 'you owe me now'.
'what? this game of yours when you were four?', i mocked him.
'i knew you'd bring that up!', leroy lifted his hands in dismay.
'and that's not the last one', i added.
'you owe me an embarassing night with your friends. or parents', he explained then.
'oh, it will take my parents some 20 minutes - and with my mum even less - to tell you more of this kind of stuff then your friends did overnight', i smiled recalling these situations.
'i like that', he approved.
'i'm afraid they'd tell you so much that you'd have to be killed afterwards', i said.
'is that what really happened to your ex-husband? and the reason you had to leave the country?', roy asked.
'yeah, he was reckless enough to meet my parents', i nodded, 'so it didn't end up very well indeed'.


and then he played the piano. and he's so freaking good at it! oh dear lord!!
he's never mentioned it to me before but he plays since he was 3, he used to play in a band and write songs as an adolescent.
and now that we had a piano in the house he did play for me finally. just like that, all of a sudden.
he was improvising. artistically, delicately.
i have a knack for classical music so i recognized a couple of bars and air of chopin and tchaikovsky waltzes, debussy, but the rest of it was unfamiliar, it was brand new.
it was happening right in front of me.
while improvising leroy looked concentrated and at the same time lost in his own world and enjoying the process so much.
from time to time he'd look up at me and give me that soft slow knowing smile that would carry me away.
he was so fabulously hot, so drop-dead gorgeous that all i could think of at some point was to tear off his clothes.
that's what i did. i really had no choice. i couldn't control myself anymore.
taking his immediate response to my gust of passion into account i can't imagine how he could have been so collected while playing.
anyway that's not my ticket here.

the thing is we've already had sex before the trip. and it was good. and i wanted it. and i liked leroy.
but this time it was way different. i wanted him so bad i couldn't help it.
not just a sexy guy i have fun with, no, i wanted leroy.
this leroy i got to know.
with silly background stories on the one hand and so secure on the other, an outstanding piano-player and yet not demonstrating it in any way, so light-hearted at times and hard-working when it's needed, so biting and so impossibly caring, so strong and so tender.. i can go on and on.
the main part is the sex was amazing.

i got used to the idea that this sexual firework equals alexander. otherwise it can be nice and pleasant but that's it, nothing else, nothing remarkable.
but sunday night with leroy has changed it all, turned everything upside down.
it was so fantasic that the next day was spent inside. we didn't go out, he called off all our meetings.
and we enjoyed each other, new, updated and upgraded ones in our attempts to figure out more.
oh, i did mention that everything including the white bed was enormously huge? i've never seen a larger bed!
it worked towards us staying home as well.


we got back yesterday.
leroy's at the meeting at the moment and as for me i'm wearing his large grey 'born to be american' sweater and am trying to concentrate on my scientific paper.
and the good news is i can't,
cause i keep bringing rhode island back to mind, it's like the pictures of it are hanging in the back of my head.
and i can't look away.

this is good for a change, huh?

@темы: the US

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russia

me and leroy, we had a russian evening-night yesterday.
i've downloaded old soviet movies with english subtitles and have made my own remarks for those which i couldn't find good enough english subtitles for.
it was sort of an out-of-date present for non-existing neither in the us, nor in canada holiday of february, 23, russian men's day.
i made a potato pie with rosemary and a mutton with cranberry sauce.
he got us japanese plum wine i like so much lately.
and i also brought the dvds.
leroy's already seen the oscar-winning 'moscow doesn't believe in tears' so our list was the following:
'girls', 'irony of fate, or enjoy your bath' and my fav 'three fat man'.
he loved it! although i always wanted him to understand more than the meaning the translator managed to convey.
but still he loved it.
i have more films to come:
'we'll live till monday', 'operation y and other shurik's adventures', 'office romance ', 'the fabulous baron munchausen', and incredible kids ones - 'red, honest, enamored', 'attention, turtle!' and 'morozko'.
i limited myself to ten movies cause soviet cinema is a masterpiece! i love it!
and i wanna share it with roy we have such an amazing time with.

leroy offered me to spend a few days in his friends' house by the ocean.
so he takes a day off, i ditch and we go there this friday.

we have an amazing time together.
he's acid-tongued. and at the same time - a new observation here - very tender. what an amazing mix!
and now that we got closer in all of the possible ways we hang aroung together so much!
my life's now divided into two: the working part of it and the afterwards part.
and instead of working at night i now work hard before noon. cause the alternatives are to be considered.
leroy gets off at 6 p.m. and then we can go out for a dinner or he'd come over, or pick me up to his place.
and we might not even have any plans in particular bur we'll figure smth out.
we're just sharing each other's lives.
we can visit his nephews or spend an evening with my friends.
or - one of the best outcomes - stay at home and be together.

we'll have a great time this weekend.
absolutely!

@темы: the US

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fam

and yet i don't feel like i belong.
the feeling is lost somewhere behind.
no connection to anything.
and this state i'm in right now is freaking scary.

@темы: the US

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i like to curl it, curl it

'how weird and isolated a person should be to make curling a lifestyle?', i asked leroy while we were watching curling once again.
'a friend of mine loves curling', he replied while unwrapping a chocolate bar for me, 'yet he seems normal. he even has a girlfriend. she also seems normal and even nice'.
'and he spends his time playing curling?', i asked.
'yep, their team has a cool coach who develops snaky strategies for 'em, fanciful equipment and they really - play curling a lot', he smiled finally.
'jeez', it was all i could say.
'he showed us the game a couple of times, we give it a shot from time to time. wanna come and try?', he bited off a piece and offered me the bar.
'i don't know the rules', i replied and bited a piece myself.
'neither do i. the key is not to let it show', he shrugged his shoulders gracefully.
i like it when guys movements are full of casual grace, that's very hot.
'and there's no way i'd manage not to laugh', i went on.
'i'm afraid he's already used to that - he deals with me and my friends a lot', leroy grinned.
'you're heartless!', i punched him playfully.
'we do our best to contain ourselves', he said, deadpan, but then couldn't help it and confessed, 'actually no, we don't, we get a buzz out of it. wanna join?'
'join your cold-hearted, hardened company of so called friends dishonestly making fun of one's inmost feelings and interests?', i frowned.
'yeah!', he said.
'sure!', i agreed quickly.
'what an imprudent artful wench!', he said with emotion.
i started with 'what a manipulative' and we ended the quote from 'friends' in unison by saying with rachel's intonation, 'bitch'.