May 25, 2005.
Inspired by those who survived the storm and found the courage to tell their truth. This diary is for the ones who felt trapped but kept dreaming.
Night. An empty yard. Rain. The light of a streetlamp. My window looks into the night. How I love the rain. Drops hit the glass and, flowing, they draw me embracing the person I love. A kiss. Clothes are soaked and sticking to the body. How close we are to each other.
Only this is my fantasy. I love a person, but he is unreachable for me. Oh, no, he is not dead, not on the other side of town, not in another country. He lives in the next entrance, three floors above. But I cannot tell the truth. He is getting married soon.
Of course, I have a friend. He thinks we trust each other and tell the whole truth. Naive fool.
Yes, he is attentive, caring, but I am always thinking about Anton and imagining us talking, him inviting for a walk, making small sweet gifts and telling how lucky he is to have met me, that he can’t imagine life without me. But Victor is near. And I think: “I wonder, how would he react if I decided to reveal the truth and tell about my love?” Silly?
Anton... How did I not notice him before? An ordinary guy, tall, thin. Has a car he dusts and washes himself. Sometimes with music blasting through the speakers, sometimes with friends, but most often with his Victoria. They say her father is not the last official at City Hall. And Anton’s mother owns a super-duper trendy bar “Voodoo.” Stupid name. And I am no lover of these bars…
How could fall in love like this, just by stepping on his foot in the supermarket?! And he, in response to my apologies, replied:
— Hi, I think I know you…
How stupidly behaved. Didn’t know what to say, what to do.
Anton, noticing the confusion, smiled:
— Come on, don’t sweat it! — and then walked along the wide alley toward home, talking about nothing. Felt like knowing him for a hundred years. Joked, saying walking like Shrek and Fiona to Lord Farquaad’s castle! He laughed at the stupid joke, noticing that I indeed look like Fiona. And then… Then Vika appeared.
— Tosha? — she was surprised, seeing us with bags in hands. — Where are you coming from?
Victoria pecked him on the cheek. But walked on slowly, realizing that our little walk was over, and Vika would probably make a scene. Seems like starting to hate her.
May 25, 2005.
Today turned out ordinary. Couldn’t fall asleep all night, listening to the neighbors’ row through the wall. Settled down only toward morning.
Hardly opening eyes, checked the clock. Bliss, no university today. Holidays. Parents are at work. Could afford to sleep a bit longer. Familiar hits drifted from the street. Sleep vanished instantly. Anton is washing the car. Hurried to the window. Unhurriedly, he sorted through some papers lying on the back seat, gathered newspapers and threw them in the trash. A few minutes later, brought a bucket of water and a sponge, started washing the car.
Victoria looked out of the window and called out:
— Toshka, where are you heading today, all washed up?
— Going to take the brothers to the station at five, then I’ll be back!
— Oh, I see! Maybe later today we could visit Lenka? Congratulate her on the baby?
— Fine! But what are we giving her?
— Take me with you. Drop me off at “The Little One”. While you dash to the station, I’ll get off there and pick something out!
The urge to go down to him was so strong. Only felt sure that when stepping out, the bitchy blonde would appear immediately and wouldn’t let us say a word to each other.
Sat on the chair, and just physically felt that me was tied to it, not even allowed to stand up. And me desperately wanted to break free and escape to freedom—out there, where beloved is working on the car.
Soon, the music faded. Anton drove away.
