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Sunday, November 20, 2016

You have been loved - Part 2



I don’t know why but I just leave, without saying a word to her, I don’t even look back. Going down the hill and continue to walk the beach line, I walk like a drunk and tired crab, after a while I notice that the bandage has scrambled and I am bleeding again.

I sit on some huge rocks and just listen to the angry waves, the sea is restless tonight, I reach for my pocket and get the cigarettes out and roll one.

Then I see the cute little puppy approaching me while wagging his tale and barking as if he wants to know if I am alright. I smile at him, and saying with calm voice: don’t worry buddy, I am going to be alright.

The puppy reminds me of my beloved dog, he was not the smartest dog in the world but definitely the kindest one. I could ask him to fetch a newspaper and he could come back with a shoes, remote control, my phone, somebody else’s phone, anything else except the newspaper, but I loved dearly him anyway.

My only friend, remembered his last days, he was 8 years old and had developed this heart condition. Even though veterinary told me that an operation would not safe him, I insist to go for it. I was a poor dish washer at that time of my life, I sold my TV, stereo and my computer so I could pay the deductible part. The 15 percent of the operation costs that insurance required that have to be paid by me.

It was a rainy day that I lost my wonderful dog, my best friend, I got heavily drunk and walked and walked until I could not walk any more. Then I sat at the bench on the bridge, the bridge over the river, and that river could be a solution to all my sadness, all my loneliness.

Sleepless night, thinking, remembering, tossing and turning in the bed, feel the walls getting closer, grasping for air. I had anxiety about reliving the high school again.

Well I was not smart, not good looking, not athletic, not rich, not anything really, just a weird loner, an outcast. The girls didn’t notice me at all, and I accept the harsh reality that I was invisible to them.

I barely eat at school cafeteria, and the few times in month I was there, I just get an apple or milk and disappeared quietly.

I spend the most of my time at school library, it was my second home, a safe place where I could forget the about my problems, a shelter for my restless soul.

Thinking about going back to that time just haunted me, I knew this time thing are more complicated and more intense. To see and desire, to have feelings and emotions that will never be answered. To walk a lonely path again.

In the morning I almost hit the floor when I was getting dressed, I managed to brush my teeth somehow and walked into the classroom.

Of course I was late, disoriented and didn’t have any paper or pen with me. I choose the most unfriendly face and sit beside him so we don’t need to talk. During the break I bought a coffee and got back to my room, mixed it with whisky, roll a cigarette, brush my teeth once more, chewing gum, get back and of course being late again.

You have been loved




Finally arrived from Paris, I don’t remember much but I am tired, unshaved with severe headache. The receptionist, a middle aged man with an overgrown moustache informs me that I am one day late. I just nod my head with my shades on, there is not much of a conversation. I receive some pamphlets about the place and a key. Then with a monotone voice he says: room 316, second floor and welcome to Malaga Institute.

I open the door and just standing there, barely 9 square meter, depressing dark and damp smell hit you like a baseball bat. I put my bag in the corner next to the some kind of desk with a yellow lamp on it. I sit at the chair and stretch my legs that hit the old wooden bed.

No fridge and no TV, there is a window but the high wall, barely couple of meters in front of it blocking the sun. I feel trapped, claustrophobic and need a drink. Walking down to the Super Sol and buy two bottle of whisky, soda, red wine and 2 kilo ice bag.

Since I don’t have a fridge I put the ice bag inside a small bathroom sink, then turn the hot water for the bathtub, pore me a drink and get undressed and step into the bath. I listen to music, sipping on my drink and start to forget, that’s the best part of drinking. After a while I put my drink on edge of the bath tub to look for Sia’s: You have been loved. Meanwhile I am looking, I managed to hit the glass with my phone and I see it gliding down the edge.

I get out the bath tub and carelessly step on the pieces of glass which cut my feet pretty badly. Well I am just standing there, listening to the song and see the blood spreading on the white floor tile, mixing up with whisky and soda. I use the toilet paper to stop the blood and wrapped it around my feet, then get dressed, put my socks on and my shoes, with some difficulty, going back to store.

I need to buy some disinfection solution and bandages, because of the cut I walk like a crab down the hill, dragging my feet behind me. On the way up I stop and roll a cigarette, I sit beside the flowers next to me and large garbage cans in front of me and thinking about love, lost and grief.

As soon as I come back, I disinfect my feet, put a bandage over the wound and sit on the bed, listening to music and staring at the floor, some ants running franticly all over the place. I drink some more whisky and soda, only this time in the plastic cup that I purchased earlier and continue watching the stress out ants, then put a t-shirt on the pillow and rest for a while.

When I woke up it was dark, feels like a grave, even smells like one. I am very thirsty but there is nothing to drink beside whisky and red wine. I get dressed and going outside the entrance, put the coin into the vending automat, aqua can drops down and I drink it until there is not a single drop left, then I throw the can which not landed into the basket.

I hear somebody laughing and that surprise me, middle of the night. I look back and there she was. I see this beautiful young girl with flowery summer dress standing there and smiling at me. Then she come closer, tilting her head sideway and starts talking to me with a sweet French accent while she rubs her palms together.