Unnecessary pattern

      

      more than anything in the world

I want to save you

from myself

rupi kaur. milk and honey

             The night city was fascinating. He fascinated me with his quiet wind and the words of lovers that were heard on his streets, just a couple of hours ago.       Putting down a bottle of beer, I dangled my legs from the roof of the house, my interlocutor did the same.       — Tell me, why did you fall in love with him?       — There is no clear answer to this. After all, I loved him when I hated myself. When my voice is in the blood, when it is sharp as thunder and weak as porcelain. When I left everyone to their own devices, he was driven into my heart with a weeping sword, like a stake. I love him, even if he prefers other names to me, their faces, other cities in which there are no my ambitions, other men and women who call to him at dawn of the day,” the guy said it very quietly, almost with his lips, “I love him to this day, as myself.       — Are you sure about this?       — Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my life as I am now. Yes, I’ve done a lot of shit, — *a sip of beer*, — and I’m sorry about everything. But it can’t be returned…       — You didn’t even torture…       — I ruined his life! How can you not understand this!       — You helped him become who he is now. Broken, but at the same time glued together. And he won’t make any more mistakes.       — Do you think that the time he spent with me is a mistake?       — Yes. This is the worst mistake in his life… — I got up and headed for the stairs. — You know, he didn’t tell me everything. But I know for sure that Vlad remembers every minute spent with you, every kiss you give. After all, it was you who gave him this world back then.” My gait became shaky and slow. I stumbled and started falling. But at the last moment I was picked up and pressed to myself.       — Dim, can you become my boyfriend?       — I won’t make the mistake that Vlad made. I’m sorry,” I broke away from the embrace and hobbled to the stairs.       — I’m leaving today.       — Where to? I called over my shoulder, but I wasn’t interested anyway.        — To Moscow.       

***

      “Can I still call?” The question burst into the emptiness of thoughts and thundered with fanfare. “No, he’s probably asleep. I won’t disturb him.”       Walking along the street, I did not notice how I came out on a small embankment, which ended with a large suspension bridge. The river breeze blew a pleasant coolness that walked among the strands of hair. I decided to sit down on a bench. And again to render in pleasant days to me…              We spent so many interesting evenings with him. Of course, I’m talking about Dima. When he came to me at the hospital, it seemed so romantic. So right and good that the heart was ready to break out and scream with joy. He’s not angry.       We talked a lot, a lot and for a long time. We discussed everything that had happened, which was maddening.       And after that, we met with him every day, until he was discharged from the hospital. He was so kind and caring. I will never forget his warm, friendly look with which he looked at me.       All the bruises healed, and I returned to the sport. Yes, it took too long to recover, but still.              

*Several weeks have passed*

             Oh, the smell of the tournament… I’ve always loved him. This is a mixture of hairspray, sweat, powder and parquet. They mixed together to create a unique fragrance that is so dear to me by no perfumer. I think if such a perfume was created, and some guy popped it, I would definitely fall in love with him, just like I did with the competition.       Yes, I often go to tournaments, but this thrill in my heart will never go out. Every rustle, every melody, every costume is imprinted in my head like a new one. Although nothing ever changes. All the same dresses, tailcoats, shirts, hairstyles — all this feels new every time. Especially the cries of support coming from different sides of the parquet. Bliss, even though they never sound in my direction.       I was standing at the entrance to the parquet floor, having already changed into a vest, a white shirt, black pants and shoes, the skin of which I had polished to a shine. My partner was standing next to me with a haughty face, as if she was the queen of parquet. No one paid any attention to us. Everyone was on their own. And only the coach told us that we should keep the frame, actively move. I knew it wouldn’t help, because when you’re on the floor, there can’t be a single thought in your head. Only a sense of the environment, muscle memory and stress caused by a huge number of people.       — The second pass,” the announcer announced into the microphone, and a new melody began to play. The couples stretched out on the parquet floor, taking me with them. It’s magical.       It was not difficult for me to perform the composition. But the fact that there were fifteen pairs on the parquet for a small parquet is another problem. At such a moment, we could be imagined as sardine fish, tightly packed in a package. It was crowded, couples were constantly clashing, and it did not inspire enthusiasm. I wanted to howl in frustration and pain when one of them collided with me. I was hit in the back by the elbow of one of the partners. It hurt, but who’s asking me, right?       When I danced, I constantly looked at the coach, she, Nina Stepanovna, was clearly angry. It was not even read by certain signs, by the type of finger-wringing or tense shoulders. No. Everything was written on his face. What did I do wrong?       Coming off the floor, wiping the sweat from my forehead, I went to the coach. The ovation sounded for quite a long time, but it didn’t help. The mood was lousy. She screamed, said that I didn’t think much and wouldn’t achieve anything at all if I danced thoughtlessly. She called me an idiot, hit me on the shoulder a couple of times. She said that the dance was heavy, not adam’s apple, wrong. And in general, I’m not going anywhere further. And that we could do better.       I didn’t want anything: neither to eat, nor to drink, nor to talk. Just wait for the result to show. I wanted to howl with frustration. Why can’t I do anything? I just want to be stronger in dancing. Why? Why haven’t I given up yet?       So several long minutes passed. Then the results appeared.

22. Juniors 2+1

127|1|1|1|1|1

145|1|1|1|1|1

152|1|1|1|1|1

171|1|1|1|1|1

173|1|1|1|1|1

174|1|1|1|1|1

175|1|1|1|1|1

182|1|1|1|1|1

183|1|1|1|1|1

185|1|1|1|1|1

186|1|1|1|1|1

187|1|1|1|1|1

Number 172 — no.

I didn’t pass. Why?

Because I’m weak?

Because I was in the hospital?

Dad will swear…

      Having approached the coach and told about the result, he freaked out and, turning around, left. But there was nothing to do, I packed up, changed my clothes and went home. The hike was short-lived.       Entering the buffer zone, I took off my shoes and immediately went to the bathroom. I didn’t want anything but a hot shower. I looked in the mirror, leaning a little on the sink.       — They make me think, but this stuff"—I tapped my head—"doesn’t work. Although it’s all because of me. I’m the trash now. I’m no good. Nobody needs it,” tears flowed from his eyes.              I am appreciated and my merits are recognized.       But it’s just my “I” playing this role for the sake of recognition.       It’s not the real me.        “Your true self is always crying, isn’t it?”       Yes, but I’m happy.       “Am I happy?”       I’m happy.       “Am I happy?”       I’m really happy.       “AM I HAPPY?!”       No. This is not happiness.        “What is happiness?”       It’s not me. It’s not the real me. I just don’t want to accept reality.        “What is reality?”       It’s not me.              Thoughts were spinning in my head like crazy when one of them didn’t scream the loudest:        “Show me!” — the voice was quiet and childish.       What?       “Show me.”       I don’t understand.       “You have Dima. You can tell him everything.”        No. I won’t burden him with problems, he has enough of his own.       “Show me anyway.”       no!              The voice changed again, but this time it was very heavy and low.              “Why are you such a weakling?”       But… I’m doing my best.       “You’re not doing enough!” — gradually he began to become fatherly.       But I’m really trying. Honestly.       “I didn’t say enough!” the voice screamed and put all the hate that it could.       But…              The phone rang, which scared off a million voices ringing like the bells of a lonely church. A melodious beep saved me from the hell that reigned in my head. Taking the phone, I looked at the screen: “Dimochka”. Yes, we made up with him, but in my head there was still this terrible moment in the toilet.       — Alo? I said softly into the microphone of the phone.       — Alo! Hi!       — Hi.       — How’s it going? Wait, don’t tell me. You’d better come to me. Let’s celebrate,” I looked towards the door, then at the clock on my phone. Father will be back in an hour and a half.       — I don’t know. Maybe I’ll come.       — I don’t know. And it can’t be. Will you come. I’ll be waiting.       — Yes, good. I’m just going to take a shower.       — OK. I’ll be waiting,” I hung up and climbed into the shower stall. The cold water burned his body. There were no thoughts, but thank God.       I went out pretty quickly, I still didn’t want to get caught by my father. My brother was not at home either, exactly like my mother. They went to the grocery store. It would be necessary to notify them that I’m going to Dima. Otherwise they will worry.       I went into the messenger and typed a rather short message: “Mom, hi, I’ll be at Dima’s” This was enough to let me go anywhere. Even if I walk alone, she never said against if Dima is “around”. But this time this one message is missing. “I’ll be staying with him overnight.” I always put a period when I don’t want to write more. And my mother understood this, and without typing questions. I just sent some smiley face that I definitely read.       I packed up pretty quickly (it took me only ten minutes). I didn’t take many things either: just a change of socks, a phone charger, a couple of T-shirts and a bottle of lemonade, hidden for such occasions among the things of my younger brother. I don’t think it’s enough for us, but I think it’s better than nothing. I took the keys, put on my jacket and went towards Dima’s house.       I took out my phone and typed a short message: “I’m out. Can you meet me?”       “Yes, without b,” he replied literally after a second.              We met him near a department store that had already closed, the saleswoman of which was an incredibly kind woman. Earlier, when we were younger, and she, accordingly, was younger, the girl treated us to sucking sweets. I especially liked them with lemon, and Dima with strawberries. The store was closed now. It was shut down two years ago due to lack of money for rent. Maybe it’s because of us and those candies?       We walked quietly to the house without saying a word. We went up to the ninth — the maximum floor and headed to apartment 146. The door was ajar. And Dima said: “My father went to a friend. We had a fight with him, so he won’t be here until tomorrow.”       We went into the apartment. The nose was caressed by such a familiar smell of cigarette smoke. The interior decoration, which lacked comfort. Yes, everything you needed was here, but nothing more. As if the apartment was rented. This has always attracted me to Dima’s “shelter”. Yes, I lived better than him, but I lacked what Dimochka has, and he lacked what I had. It’s pretty weird, but we’re already used to it.       — I took lemonade,” I said when Dima started to enter his room.              

Dima

             — I took lemonade,” Vlad said when I crossed the threshold of my room.       — I have something better,” I answered him, my gaze fell on the unmade napkins. I forgot to put them away. I quickly walked up to them and pushed them under the bed. Fortunately Vlad did not notice.       — Why are you so red? — he asked me, taking clothes and a half cup of Pepsi out of his briefcase.        — Yes… — I looked at the window, — it’s just stuffy here.       — Weird… But if you feel stuffy, then please open the window.       — Oh, yes. That’s what I wanted to do—the tension was growing by the minute. After all, what happened between us made itself felt. I went to the window, and a cool breeze enveloped the room.       — You said you had something.       I put my hand between the bed and the radiator and pulled out the martini bottle I had stolen from my father the day before. He didn’t seem to notice anything.       — But… — Vlad didn’t have time to finish, as I interrupted him.       — Without no.       I took out the glasses, and we, diluting the sweetness with sweetness, drank half a bottle. It was already getting dark. Vlad was drawn to sleep, as well as me. But I didn’t want that in my mind.       — Turn on the light, please,” I quietly asked Vlad, barely standing on his feet.       — Are you still afraid of the dark?       — No. It’s just… — endless headlights of cars rushing along the motorway flashed before my eyes. Then there was a loud squeal. The light in the room turned on, dispersing the veil before my eyes. This fog dissolved slowly, as if reluctantly.       Soft touches to my face completely brought me out of this state. They were filled with tenderness and care, the kind that I lacked for a very long time. Vlad was wiping away tears. It was like my mother’s hands. I really want to see her.       — I’m here, I’m close,” Vlad whispered. And I shackled him in my arms, pressing him with all my strength. A couple of clicks were heard, it was the vertebrae that fell into place, but Vlad did not make a sound, but twisted his arms and hugged me in response. “I’m here, you know. You can tell me everything that’s wrong with you. Don’t hold back.       It is this warmth that I need. That’s what Vlad gives me. Sometimes I wanted to say “Thank you” to him, but he forbade me to say it. After all: “That’s what a best friend is for. After all, it is without “Thank you” that he is obliged to come to the rescue.”       I let him go, but the embrace was still strong, Vlad did not let me go. And only now I felt with my chest how wet my T-shirt was because of tears. He was crying quietly, not even trembling.       — Hey, what are you doing? I asked, but he didn’t answer me. He just let go and awkwardly wiped his tears with his hands.       — Sorry. I am well.              

Vlad

             — Sorry. I’m fine,” I said quietly. The whole world was spinning, gradually sinking into a fog.       I remembered that moment in the bathroom.       “Show me!”       I understood what it meant. I won’t show him anything. I won’t show the pain. I won’t show any more tears. He already has a lot of problems. He has a mom… He has enough worries of his own. I just won’t show this baby. No. Never.       I tried to show a smile, but my legs gave way. At the moment, I was picked up in my arms and gently laid on the bed next to dakimakura. Then Dima bent over my head and kissed me on the lips. Or was it an illusion?       No, I just had too much. He can’t do that, because there is Artem. And in general, how is Dimochka still standing on her feet after alcohol?       My gaze fell on the photo frame. He never found her…       I fell into a dream.              

Dima

             Vlad was lying on the bed, curled up in the fetal position. It was overly cute. I didn’t notice how a smile appeared on his face during sleep.       I didn’t feel like sleeping. Although it is necessary. Looking at the clock, which was now standing on the opposite side of the photo frame, I was convinced of this: 2:35. I wonder why he burst into tears? What happened? Or is it because of the alcohol and the fact that he remembered my story?       Putting aside my thoughts, I took off my T-shirt and pants, turned off the light, but first I lit the night light and went to bed.              I woke up before the alarm clock. Opening his eyes, Vlad was lying next to me, quietly snoring. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. Dakimakura was lying on the other side while I was hugging Vlad. Goosebumps ran down my spine, and panic seized me. “Am I hugging him?! But…” I recoiled slightly from him and looked down. My underpants were a little wet, and the boner was visible to the naked eye. “Fuck…”       I tried to pull my hand out from under Vlad’s back, but it was unsuccessful. He woke up.       — Good morning,” he said quietly, without turning his head.       — You sleep, sleep, it’s still early — “Don’t turn around, please” — a voice screamed in my head.       — Good. Just bring me some water.       — Yeah. — I quickly jumped out of bed and put on my pants, the first thing I did was head to the kitchen. Goosebumps ran down my back because of the cool air. I took out two mugs and poured water from the water purifier, and just as quickly rushed into the room, spilling a little liquid on the way. Vlad was already asleep, so I put the mug next to the bed, took clean underwear and went to the bathroom.       I was ashamed in front of Vlad for this, but there was nothing I could do, it had already happened. Going into the bathroom, I quickly undressed and climbed into the shower. There was a small mirror in it, it instantly misted up as soon as the hot water poured out of the watering can. I quickly rubbed into it and didn’t recognize my reflection a bit.       Is that me? Is this my body? Yes. This is it. But why did it seem unfamiliar to me? It’s crazy.       I touched my lips. Their surface was dry, as always. I looked down, the penis was still standing, and most likely was not going to relax.       What to do?              

Vlad

             I saw him re-enter the room, how he put the mug down and how he left in a hurry. Then I heard the water splashing and Dima getting out of the shower. By the time the shower doors slammed, I had left only half of the water in the mug, but my head still hurt a lot.       Dima came into the room. He saw that I was awake and a blush appeared on his face.       — Can you hand me my bag? — I asked, and Dimochka immediately fulfilled my request. — thanks. You’re just a super-duper-best-friend.       — You… Also,” after these words, I took out a pillbox and pulled out four capsules. Three of them were with collagen, and one was from the head. Taking a mug and throwing all the pills in my mouth, I washed them down.       — Sucks, — heavy silence hung. — What time is it now?       — Six, sor… — Before he could finish, the phone rang. Dima took it and immediately accepted the challenge.       — Hi…” he looked at me, “I don’t think it’s going to work out today. We are with Vl today…” at the moment he changed his face. — That’s enough already! I have the right to spend at least one day the way I want. We agreed with him in advance, and I’m not going to change plans. — And again silence. — Let’s do it tomorrow. Well zai…       The whole conversation I looked at Dima with jealousy. I didn’t want to hear him call his boyfriend such warm words. Emotions gradually boiled up, became fiercer and more painful. Thoughts screamed: “Don’t bother him! Let him walk! A guy is more important than a friend!”       — Listen, you go for a walk. I have to go home. I forgot to tell you that my mother and I agreed,” I said to Dima and, getting out of bed, began to pack. He followed with his eyes, without taking the phone away from his ear. I finished with my clothes pretty quickly, and went out into the corridor and started to put on my shoes.       — Stop! — he shouted, but his words echoed in the empty corridor, and then in the stairwell. I ran outside and ran as long as I could. Cheerful children were running by, who, for reasons I didn’t understand, got up so early on Sunday. My head began to spin, the colors became blurry due to tears. At one point, my leg twisted and I fell to the ground.       My nose hurt, and so did my knees. I didn’t want anything but to cry.              What an idiot I am! It’s idiotic. I hate myself! Why am I doing such a bad thing to him! He did his best for me! Why am I such an idiot! I hate myself! Why am I hurting him! I promised you! What the hell is wrong with me! Shame!       “A disgrace to the family!” my father echoed my thoughts: “You fucking piece of shit unfinished! Whore!” — he persisted.       Yes, Father! You’re fucking right!              Getting up from the floor, I dusted off my clothes and immediately examined her. It doesn’t seem to have torn anywhere. I picked up the fallen bag from the floor, wiped the blood oozing from my nose, and walked towards the house. The father shouldn’t be there. There should be a brother at home.       I got there pretty quickly. There would be no reason to stay somewhere, because my brother is waiting for me at home. So warm in his arms and dear. I wanted to get to him faster, to put him in my arms, to press and warm my hands.       Opening the door with the key, I got inside, slipping on the mats like a thief. But my father was waiting for me on the threshold.       — And where have you been?       — I’m at Dima’s overnight.       — Why today?       — We agreed with him that after the tour…” I stopped.       —I would like to talk to you about this very tournament,” he gestured that I should go inside, “come in.       When I entered the house, my brother and my mother met me. They stood with downcast eyes, as if ashamed. Then we went into the kitchen, leaving the rest of the family behind the door to it.       — Well, come on, tell me, how is the result? Father asked, sitting down in front of me.       — The result is not very good, but Nina Ivanovna said that it was not bad,” I answered a little quietly.       — Nina Ivanovna said? And I have other information. So don’t lie, it’s better to be honest, otherwise it will be worse.       — She’s…” I mumbled.       — Don’t mumble. Speak loudly, like a real man with a man,” the father raised his voice.       — She wasn’t entirely happy.       — And what did she say?       — What could we do better.       — So why couldn’t I?! — he exploded, — Why are you so worthless! You can’t do anything! You’re a disgrace to our family! I’m paying money, after all! Look at your Dima! A normal guy: strong, persistent and unyielding! You’ll look at him and there’s pride in his eyes! He’s growing up as a man! And you! he pointed a finger at me. — You’re worthless! Weak, not able to do shit! Freeloader!       — But…       — “Instead of going for a walk, I’d rather do something useful!”       — Dear,” said Mom in a low voice, who came into the room, “Don’t overdo it.       — He doesn’t understand!       — Not everything works out the first time. You should have realized that a long time ago.       — He’s our son! He owes us!       — Yes, he is our son, and we have been trying for a long time to bring him into the world.       — That’s why he owes us! We tried for him! There is a phone, clothes, a roof over your head — too — EVERYTHING! He has everything in his lifetime! We would have such a blessing in childhood, so we would…       — Nothing would have changed! Mom screamed. — How can you not see his efforts!       — So why can’t he see ours! So it also shames us! he cast a malicious glance at me.       — And fuck I gave birth to him then!       — That’s it! I wish he had never been born! — after these words, a lump in my throat came up, not letting me breathe.       — That’s it!       — Close the door! Dad shouted, and Mom left.       — I’ll go,” I said quietly.       — You’re not going anywhere! he took hold of the belt and quickly pulled it out of the straps of his striped pants.       The first blow fell on the legs, the second on the arms, the third on the back. But I stood on my feet, not letting myself fall. It hurt, but not physically. Opening my arms and taking one step towards the inevitable, I shackled my father in a tight embrace. I held on to him while a hail of blows beat against my back. But at the moment he pushed me away, and the world slowed down again, like that time.       I don’t remember what happened next. Only the moment of awakening, the way my brother was lying near the first floor of the bed in our room. I got up quietly and, trying not to wake him, left the room. Looking at my watch, I realized that I had slept for about six hours. Was it really a dream?       My father’s words were spinning in my head: “I wish he had never been born!”       If he doesn’t want to see me, then why do you need me? Maybe it’s easier to die?       I dressed quickly and went outside.       It was getting late, the cool wind caressed my face. The setting sun gave the last rays of the sky, painted in pink and purple shades. The leaves of the trees rustled softly, the birds sang. These sounds created music for the ears.       I walked through the streets, passing millions of bright colors that turned gray in my eyes. The whole world has discolored: the sky, houses, cars, and passers-by. There were no colors. It’s like they’ve run away from me and are hiding in the most remote places. And this was confirmed by the words of the father. I am really unnecessary, clumsy, not able, worthless, not capable of anything. I can only whine. I can only sit on my parents' neck, having everything they didn’t have. Was I even supposed to be born? Do I have the right to love, care? No, I’m not entitled to them. I don’t even have the right to live. And that means only one thing…       I didn’t notice how I got to the right house, climbed the stairs and took out my phone, standing on the roof of a twenty-five-story building. The wind was strong here and so warm. The birds were still singing their songs, but I no longer heard the rustling of the trees.       “You can’t do anything! You’re a disgrace to our family! I’m paying money, after all! Look at your Dima! A normal guy: strong, persistent and unyielding! You’ll look at him and there’s pride in his eyes! He’s growing up as a man! And you! You’re worthless! Weak, not able to do shit! Freeloader!”       Forgive me Dimochka for my weakness. I’m sorry for not keeping my promises. I’m sorry for not following my own words.       I am weak both mentally and physically.        — Figure it out, I’ll be gone in a moment. And you won’t see my stupid messages anymore, me. You won’t be able to see my face at school. It will be a joke, ha-ha-ha. — I said into the microphone of the phone, opening the first chat I came across and not reading the recipient.       Where are you? — a message has arrived.       — It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said into the microphone, sobbing and walking to the edge of the roof.                     Yes, I understand, you won’t believe me. After all, I’m in Moscow now, which means I survived. But then I had nothing else to do. It sounds childish. But suicide was the only way out for me.       Getting up from the bench, I headed further along the embankment. A lone runner ran past me, not understanding why I was not sleeping. But I didn’t want to sleep, I wanted to feel that nostalgia again and again for the times that I hate.       The lanterns illuminated the street quite clearly. The staircases were full of illumination of different colors, and the temple, located in the distance, poured light from its dome.       Taking out my phone, I opened the camera, pointed at the night city and captured it, then went into the Phone app, scrolled to the desired number and called. They answered me quickly.       — Hello,” came the voice on the phone.       — Hi. How are you there?       — Yes… everything seems to be fine. Why aren’t you sleeping?       — That’s the question I have to ask you.       — I was at a party.       — And I decided to take a walk. What are you doing?       — I’m lying on the bed.       — I’m sorry if I woke you up.       — No, it’s fine.              We talked with my interlocutor for a long time, about forty minutes, until my phone reported twenty percent charging.       — I want a drink,” I said out loud and headed to the nearest bar.