It is of absolutely no interest to anyone, where I was born, whom I married, where I studied, and such. It happened, but it’s neither important nor necessary. They say there was a time when I didn’t exist, but I wouldn’t be so adamant about that because I lack an irrefutable proof. They say I was born on 01.04.1985. Well, let them say that. I believe I was born on 01.01.01. In my calendar, a year has 25 months, and each month has 20 days. I like my calendar. It’s convenient. And today it is 15.19.21.
They say someday I will die, but I’d be careful with such statement because all these “somedays” are too uncertain and careless. Like, “it will be in the distant future.” But let’s face it, I’m not immortal, at least not yet. I could die even a minute from now, after saying just a few more words! Or even sooner! There’s no guarantee that I will live beyond this sentence. I might die and not even know it… On the other hand, I’ve never died before, so I can’t say for sure that I will. Others usually do this, but I cannot say with one hundred percent certainty that it will be the same for me.
Anyway, fine. Even though it doesn’t make any sense, I’ll tell you a bit about myself. About 5 feet 7 inches tall. 145 pounds. Brunette. Brown eyes. Slightly flat. Chubby. Medium build. Not married. Melancholic. Introvert. Pessimist. Sociopath. Romantic.
Like any other person on Earth, I have a certain emptiness inside me, a gaping hole in my soul… It gives a constant feeling of loneliness and false impression that this loneliness can be avoided by plugging the hole with another human being (female or male). Usually people look for someone who would fit, plug them in the hole, and see if they fit well. Some of those chosen ones are smaller than the hole (dangling), some are bigger (don’t fit all the way in)… So the case when a person would fit perfectly almost never happens. Besides, this thing changes over time, so the one and the only who fit well in the past after some time starts sitting poorly — withered and started dangling or became swollen and causes pain. Sometimes it takes years to understand that a person does not fit the hole, that the person is a poor fit…
So, I was looking for a long time for a woman who could close the gaping hole in my soul… The following women were candidates for this role over time: Ksenia, Ksenia, Natalya, Lyudmila, Inga, Olga, Alina, Daria, Catherine, Elena, Anna, Angelica, Julia, and even Stella (by the way, this list is not complete). However, as expected, none of them could successfully close the gap… Well, there was one, but she disappeared…
For a long time, I lived in one of the small Russian towns, which I won’t name here. Upon reaching adulthood, I moved to one of the largest Russian cities, which I will just call “Peter” here. In Peter, I made friends, whose names are also unimportant, so they can simply be called “Friend 1”, “Friend 2”, and “Friend 3”. They’re gone now. All of them. I’m all alone, and I have no other choice but to see this through till the very end…
My last own apartment had “IKEA”, “Tephal”, “Philips”, “LG”, “Bosch”, “Becco”, “Xerox”, “Microlab”, “Sharp”, “Fairy”, “Domestos”, “Dell”, “Intel”, “ATI”, “Logitech”, and “Siemens”. Not much, of course, but these were all my own things and my own apartment, my fortress, my turf! Or maybe it wasn’t mine? Sometimes I have the feeling that someone else owned all these useless things. However, it was so long ago, and so much has happened since…
I sacrificed all of them and all this for my goal! Yes, I had to go against my conscience, but it seems I had no other choice. At least, I want to believe that. I try to push away all the useless thoughts about correctness of my choices – they are just white noise interfering with my movement to my goal.
Sometimes doubts creep into my soul, and I wonder if all this was just my imagination? Maybe, all what I am is just Matthew, a patient at a psychiatric hospital? Or am I just the fantasy of a bored writer, writing down his thoughts exclusively during periods of depression? Or maybe I’m the person reading this text right now?… I try to push away these thoughts. They are natural in my position, but they are counterproductive.
Sometimes I think it’s all Kirill’s fault. Before he appeared in my life, everything was calm and regular, and things were even starting to work out in life. There were minor problems, but who doesn’t have them? Perhaps if it weren’t for him, I would still be living as I did, and I wouldn’t even think of anything like this.
Who is Kirill? I’ve asked that question myself many times. But even now, I can’t find the exact answer. It seems he was my friend. It seems he was my teacher. It seems he was my enemy. Kirill was everything and nothing to me. It’s amazing how much one person can encompass!
Well, screw all of that! What’s done is done.
Now, as I sit on the edge of a cliff, swinging my legs, looking into the distance, completely alone, and reviewing the remaining fragments of my life, preparing for the final gathering, the final leap, I see how naive and childish my aspirations and desires were at the very beginning of the journey. Yes, of course, I still don’t have confidence that everything will work out, and that I will get what was promised, but there is only one way to find out.
And for that, I need to carefully review everything that has remained untouched.
Well, shall we?