The most important...

Another lonely Christmas. An unbearable lonely Christmas. I had been rejected long ago. Hated by society. I had enemies—they were ready to kill me, I had friends who were no better than my adversaries. I used to be certain of the righteousness of my actions, but over time I began to doubt them… I killed… I murdered innocent people. If it weren't for me, their families would be enjoying it, they would be enjoying life, every day they were given. I regretted the way I had acted… I wanted to change, but I didn't know if I could. I needed some support, someone to tell me I was still worth the effort. Someone from whom I could hear one word that would be worth a thousand others, perhaps nicer, but so much less meaningful. I wanted to hear from them a sentence that would help me survive… despite the adversity and the malice of others.

I looked around the gloomy room that was now my home. I was a rat and deserved such a hole – I knew it, but I couldn't bear the sight of the scuffed walls and the water stains on the ceiling. Even I couldn't adapt to such conditions – certainly not for long. I got up from the couch and went to the window. Snow was falling outside. White flakes, shimmering in the moonlight, were falling slowly to the ground. A few streetlights illuminated one of the gloomiest streets in Washington. Drifts were beginning to form on the sidewalks. In a few hours, people wouldn't be able to walk on them… and the roads… the roads, too, would disappear under the white snow… I had no choice but to make a quick and manly decision. No one had a say in this here but me. I surveyed this horrid room once more. My jacket lay on the couch. I put it on, checked my keys, and left the apartment, slamming the door behind me.

It was slippery. The snow was getting thicker, more persistent. No one passed me. I was driving down the busiest street, and I didn't see a single other car. I knew exactly where I wanted to go... who I wanted to reach. I was just afraid she wouldn't want to talk, that she'd kick me out... I wouldn't have been surprised; I would have understood her. I'd understood her for a long time. She was strong. She had her principles, her priorities—she acted on them, and no one ever changed them, and I knew she wouldn't.

I parked in front of her house. I didn't know whether to go to her or be a coward again and drive away. Go back to my hole and stay there until I die. Rot there. Like a prisoner or an outcast... I didn't want to be either. I glanced toward the windows of her apartment. A light was on in one of them—she wasn't sleeping. I got out of the car and started walking toward the building. When I reached the door, my hand resting on the doorknob, a thought occurred to me—"What if she wasn't alone?" A woman like her couldn't be alone. She couldn't wait for me. She'd told me once she would be, but how long could she wait? After all, she was a woman. She had her needs, just like anyone else. She couldn't live in hope that one day I'd come to my senses and return to her, that we'd be together like we were meant to be. I had to get a grip. I was a tough guy in my everyday life, but this one time, when it came to this one woman, this one woman, I couldn't be a real man. But I felt I had to be him, that this one time was worth all my fear and all my determination to overcome it.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys. They still fit. I went inside – now I had to walk down the hall and reach that one door. I hoped she hadn't changed the locks on that one either. If I had to knock on the door and wait for her to open it, it would be unbearable. The uncertainty, the fear, the waiting… it wasn't for me. I'd always been confident and proud, but not in her presence… Why???

I stood before the white door of her apartment. My hand found its way into my pocket once more. I slowly pulled out the bunch of keys… they jingled softly… I searched for the right one, the one that fit. The one that would help me, give me the strength to tell her what she should have known long ago. What I was so afraid of. A thing on which so much could depend. Something only a select few experienced... I slowly inserted the key into the lock, tried to turn it—it worked. Joy replaced fear—a smile spread across my lips. Still uncertain, but still small, fragile, reassuring... I turned the handle and gently pushed the door open. It opened. Without a word, I stepped over the threshold. I felt as if I were jumping into an icy, bottomless pit without taking a deep breath. Apparently, this was how it had to be... I closed the door behind me and looked around the warmly lit room.

She stood there, by the window. Her back turned, staring at the falling snow outside – at the multi-shaped, unblemished white flakes, swirling peacefully in the gentle breeze. Her blond hair fell to her shoulders – I didn't remember it being that long. She didn't say a word… Slowly and calmly, she turned and looked at me… Her eyes filled with pain, a single tear rolling down her pale cheek. She slowly began walking towards me, and I followed her… Like a couple meeting for the first time after a long separation on the train platform – they cross it at a run, and we crossed her room… She fell into my arms – I missed the warmth of her body so much. I gently wiped her tears away… My hand caressed her cheek. My lips landed there first, only then meeting hers…

"I don't deserve you," I whispered.

"Nor do I deserve you," she replied, just as quietly. Her voice trembled with long-hidden emotions.

"I missed you.

" "I missed you too"—words like something from a cheap, mediocre movie. But so fitting for this situation. Not a single word more passed our lips that night. I longed for her as much as I had longed for a return to my homeland… now she had replaced her… not the other way around… Once, country was the most important thing… now the most important thing was a woman…