Ma Vie

Hello! Je m’appelle K et je veux vous parler de ma vie.

Well basically I will tell you a story and part of this will be true and part of this will be not. You will have to chose which one of me you like more and maybe you will guess the right one. No.. it sounds strange. I used the wrong combination of words… Not the right one. But the one that seems more realistic but please don’t think it’s going to be that easy. You don’t know me at all. Just dive into the action and feel what I feel.

Sex was not the best one. He was not that bad. There happened men who disappointed her much more. At least he was not that quick and there were moments when she even felt good. After all the men she had she created one theory (of course, she was not the first one to create it, and she is not the genius in wo/man relations, but still..) - if during sex you start to wish it to be over, just know - it’s not your man.  You can convince yourself of him being good, sensitive, gentle, polite, family oriented, hardworking in his business, mother loving and blah blah blah. No.. boring sex will always be boring. He cannot hide from you his super sexual powers with thoughts: If I’m not sexually active enough - she will not be with me because of sex, she will be with me because of my personality. It doesn’t work like this, trust me.

It was 9 pm. Office. She is in there. What is she doing there? Some bullshit. Her thoughts were not in the same room with her, they were roaming in books she could read, men she could talk with, friends she could hang out with, but no..she was in this office, doing some boring job. You can ask why she is doing this. That will be a very reasonable question. But before asking it - build in your mind a picture of a little girl, 7-8 years old. She is plump. Very neatly dressed. Not pretty. But her smile. That is something. It’s one of her first days in school. Her uniform is grey and white. Her mom was doing a ribbon in her hair the whole morning. She is standing outside the school building. There is some photoshoot of freshmen. It is her first year in school. It is her 5th day here. But you know what she is thinking about? No..Let’s do it another way. Can you guess what she is thinking about? What are your variants? What a cute princess she is? Wrong. How good is her ribbon in the up-do? - Wrong. Why is this boy watching at her? - Wrong. Wrong! Wrong!! She is scared. She got 3 in hand-writing. You know what it means? She will not sleep today for a long time. Because she will rewrite all her homeworks. All her classworks. Everything. Until her mom is satisfied with it. Until her mom is sure that she will get 5. And it doesn’t matter who this she is.

She was walking around his flat. Simple. Very simple but she liked it. Shower room, toilet, kitchen, living room with TV and a bunch of DVDs stocked against the wall, bed room, true bachelor bed room: the bed and several hangers. She sees him for the first time. He is very cute. Actually she likes him. What is she doing here? It is his persistence that bought her. He spent like several hours to make her come to him. Yeah, yeah..I know what you think. It took months for guys to hold a lady’s hand in earlier years. But come on, it is 21st century.

She left this place already in the morning. She drove in taxi around the stranger town. First and last time here. Always connected with this man, with the night they had. The night that opened her Pandora box.

She is crying. On the balcony of a 22 storey building. He doesn’t need her. He doesn’t want her. He uses her for his goals. Everything she built in her mind lives only there. Nothing mutual. Love sucks. He stands near her and tries to explain her something. “It’s not you, it’s me.” “You don’t need something like this” “I never promised you anything” She doesn’t hear. She doesn’t want to hear. She just runs away to the park to sit near the lake, to smoke a cigarette. She calms down. Comes back home. He sits there waiting for her. “Let’s go to sleep” - Yes, she whispers.

“You should risk before you get old and boring”. In 30 minutes she sees herself in an unknown flat, taking shower in a bathroom with an unfinished renovation. He gave her a towel and charger for the phone. She is ready to satisfy. In one hour she gets more confident that if you get bored - it’s not your man and that taxi drivers are the kindest people.

She is 15 and she sits in a forsaken farm. She put on the cutest dress. He is hugging her. The guy from the local band. He is kind and asks her to be his girlfriend. He is not the most popular one, but, come on, that’s ok she is also not the prom queen. Her friends are looking at them from behind the trees. Everything is totally awkward. But She is happy. She doesn’t feel an ugly duckling. Someone wants to be with her. But that’s the only date they will have. Because dating doesn’t fit with good handwriting.

Do you remember your first time? I don’t even remember his name. Because he was used for it. He was chosen for it. Mission is completed. Thank you guy, whoever you are.

Your first love always stays with you. You can move to another city, chose a career that fills in your mind. You can have as many men as you want. But each time you come to you home you will see his windows and the surrounding will bring you to the past. He is sooooo handsome. He has a car. Each time you see him you lose your voice, you can’t speak. You write his name in your diary. You read horoscopes. You imagine stories of you together. And even when you have your kids and a husband you will remember with a smile that when he picked you up late at night or gave you a ride - these  were the most romantic moments of you together.

“Tell me. Tell me what you think.” His hands under the sleeves of her shirt. His eyes. His smile. His lips. When you don’t want your sex to end - this is your man.

“Are you really Russian? Or maybe you are the spy?” She goes along him. She met him 2 minutes ago. She examines him, tries to find Him. No luck. He is good but not Him.

“I have a baby boy.” Her heart is broken. She lost him. She cries loudly. The screenshot is saved in her phone memory. In several years nothing will ache with the look at it. But this morning was the worst.

They never met. He always existed only in her phone, in her imagination. You play, you do and after several months you realise that you are drawn in online dating. You want to break free but it’s like death sand. It drags you under with no option to breath.

She found her man. After years of search, boring sex, boring talks. They found each other but didn’t realise it at once. This search didn’t stop with their meeting. No. They fought. They parted. But when you find someone special - Piece of him or her remains in you. With your head you realise that all the signs show it is the end, but your heart doesn’t give up. It pushes you. It makes you do irrational things.

We are together. 
Nous sommes ensemble.