i used to have a friend anton always so interested in what was going on with me, so concerned, following my every step carefully.
he was a friend i could always tell i was stupid, share my scruples and complexes with.
he was my beck-and-call. a friend in a girlish kind of way. i could share every girlish nonsense with him. and for some reason he found it fascinating.
i was probably selfish in that but i needed somebody to tell me 'you're such a miracle, melenka' they was he always did.
i got married and discussed artyom with him, smiling widely and telling about your romantic diners and whispers at night.
he was listening not looking away.
and then i'd say 'soon enough you'd meet a girl who'd steal your heart, you'd marry her and i won't have to describe anything like that to you again'.
and he would shake his head, 'me? married? never happens!'.
we even made a bet many years ago - that in 10 years from that moment on i'd call him and he'd admit i was right while his children would kick each other on his lap and his wife would make a fansy diner in the kitchen.
he didn't believe me.
and i just laughed happily and light-heartedly.
once i'd got divorsed he started to make some unexpected and absolutely unnecessary approaches to me and it striked me all of a sudden that he had a crush on me.
and for sure i've never felt this way about him.
i'd rather he being gay to avoid all this confusion. sorry for saying that.
but still. he was my rearward. no attraction involved, sorry.
a guy never introduced to the rest of my friends.
eventually he asked me for reasons of this the other day and i smiled, 'you know too much. you'd have to be killed anyway'.
once a was aware of his crush i was wise anough to step back. not to hang around, to limit our contacts, to stay distant.
he got it.
we fell apart. i quess for a year or so.
but then after a huge fight with alexander so to say surrounded by the whole world breaking into pieces i couldn't resist, i called him omitting the whole politeness and hello's and saying the silliest and stupidest, 'anton. please. tell me everything is gonna be alright. someday. please?'.
we started conversing again but since i lived in spb it all came down to e-mails mostly.
but still it was nice to have someone asking about every detail in your life. and enjoying so much hearing about it.
when sasha had to work hard i'd send him e-mails.
although it still was limited. i ingored his invitations and i avoided meeting him even while being in moscow.
and never answered his text messages on the phone not to mention calls - it felt like interference with my privacy.
that was not his territory, that was mine. ans alexander's. and my closest friends.
then me and alexander broke up and anton was told about it in a while.
the whole crush thing started all over again.
he was everywhere, trying to quess every wish i might have, asking me questions every now and then. he was so nicey-nice it made me sick!
i hate being asked questions!! it's whether we're on the same wavelength or not, whether you feel me or not. not - fuck off, yes - you know what to do without me giving directions.
he even invited me for a dinner with his mother, she called me herself once almost pleading.
and it all yielded a reverse effect. it was repellent, even repulsive.
i knew i was the one wrong here, but he was like my brother or something, like family. no sexual identity involved. and him rejecting it felt kind of insulting to me.
i really wished he was gay at that point.
actually i used to have some doubts about that before it became obvious that he was so absolute straight.
so i cut off again.
absolutely. last june.
he swallowed it again, this time without any attempts to change it.
and now i miss writing to him.
i won't since that really wouldn't be fair. he didn't deserve to be treated like that, to be used.
but i hit upon the idea of loneliness.
desperate, huh?
haha, that's really funny.
but it's weird not to be attached to anybody.
i worked so hard on myself seeming independent and sovereign that apparently i've kinda succeded in it.
and now it's all ironic and cool.
my friends are keeping me up with their jokes, that's priceless. i adore this manner of communications. giving the needles all the time and laughing at it kindly. that's just perfest, really. very few people can keep up.
my parents call me every now and then. and they're the best parents ever. caring, anxious, always there. but i'm a good daughter, right? i want them to feel good. they've already done so much for me, i don't want them to worry about me being all alone in a foreigh country. so i keep telling funny stories - fortunately i've got plenty of them. i just draw a veiol over this loneliness part, i wouldn't consider it as lying. i'm really fine here.
but i miss having someone to catch my fleeting intonations and the lightest mood swings.
i'd like someone to be interested in details and silly thoughts.
somebody to tell every singe part of it so that he'd listen to you carefully, and only then laugh and tell something like 'you're silly' or kiss your ear.
or say nothing and pull you closer to his bare chest.
but to pay attention to every part of it. truly.
i want someone to be involved in my life.
that makes us weak? someone'd say so.
vulnerable? yeah, probably.
but i do want this vulnerability anyway.
i want to be a part of someone's life.
my mum would say, 'you're acting like a pregnant cockroach!'.
yeah, that does sound like acting out of boredom even to me.
i love it here. i so gosh like it here!!
with one exception.
but i can overlook it, right? against this beautiful background?
sure thing.