Angels Saga

"What's happening to us, what happened? Remember? No. You don't remember, you weren't the kind of friend one should be. I was happy at the time, I don't remember if I couldn't even sustain that happiness because of you.

" "What are you talking about?" he said again in that wise way of his. As if he knew everything, yet he didn't know shit about my inner self.

"You visit me once a year!" I shouted.

"That's how it happened," he said innocently.

I couldn't resist him; he was my friend. What nonsense, calling someone a friend. Just because you told him everything you thought, just because you kept no secrets from him. I probably told him that so he could write a book about me if I died quickly like the other rebels of this world. Did I tell him that? Fucking no.

"Will you write a book about me?

" "What? What are you talking about?" he seemed surprised. A friend should know the thoughts of another friend. We're not friends, just people who talk to each other sometimes.

"Never mind, you probably can't write. I've always chosen who I didn't have.

There's no friendship in this world, no love, that's obvious. But why does he say otherwise? I sit here and look at him. A man who can't come to terms with who I am. He wants to be himself. And he considers me a friend? I don't know. I don't consider him a friend. He wouldn't have jumped into the fire for me. And neither did I for him.

A long time ago, we were on a pilgrimage together. I was happy, walking along the sacred wall. Perhaps I was the only one. We were young, I could afford it, even if it touched someone's feelings. It was dark. I looked up from the sacred wall at the sky, and what? I felt happy. I was on the wall, bright stars hovering above me, and next to me, a little lower, stood a friend to whom I could tell how happy I was. That very day, a beautiful young boy smiled at me. He was flirting with me. Why wasn't there a sequel? Just a return to Gdynia, and nothing. We weren't friends.

" "That boy was deaf and dumb," I told him, reminding him.

"I know.

" "He was more sensitive, he needed love. God sent him to me, but I..." I paused for a moment. "I couldn't accept his gift. Then I could give him love."

I don't know what the man I once called friend said to me. I didn't care. No one in this world understood me. Why am I thinking about failures today? Failures in love, when I could have been happy. I screwed up everything related to love. When it came to girls or boys, it was always like this. Was it on a pilgrimage long ago, where on the Way of the Cross, a beautiful boy smiled at me suggestively. I smiled too. Why didn't anything more happen? Because my friend went to him to tell him to stop behaving like that, and then it turned out he was deaf and mute, and my friend felt embarrassed? Because I jerked off on a mountain that resembled Calvary or Golgotha? Or because I don't know how to love?

"Listen, it was the same with Piotrek. You don't remember the trip. We were both fascinated by each other and both couldn't make the first move. That was in 8th grade. Six years ago. The pilgrimage was seven years ago. Does any of this make sense?" Today it's too late. To go back in time.

Today I am nobody. I wander alone between the walls of my house. I don't think about people. I admire the beauty of children on walks, and then I suffer that I can't experience that beauty more closely. That was my life. Naively, I believed in only one literary figure. In Peter Pan, a reflection of myself. Me as the eternal child I felt. But he didn't appear. Not him, not anything like that. Not Peter Pan, whom I sometimes thought I was, flew to me through the window and said, "Come on, I'll take you to Neverland." And I would have flown with him, to live happily ever after. Or that at least one day a beautiful, young, tiny prince would arrive on a white, virginal steed. He would have taken me to his kingdom. But that wouldn't happen. I was left alone.

I couldn't experience happiness, love.

Even the angels, the beautiful young ones, wouldn't come for me. Because I myself had become an angel who wanted neither hell, where he could experience sexual pleasures with whomever he pleased, nor heaven, where he would live in love with anyone. I didn't like either. There was no other way, so I wandered the world. Maybe someday I'll spread my old wings and fly.

"You know what, don't take this too seriously, but maybe you should see a specialist," said a man I once considered a friend. "That's how you meet true friends in times of need. I was in times of need, and a friend suggested a madhouse. That's how you meet true friends. But I don't have any friends, so I won't listen to him.

Will there be a sequel?

"

"In kindergarten," I told my friend, wait a minute... my former friend, looking at a photo from kindergarten. Yes, I was that smiling little boy dressed as a wizard. To conjure up a life. I was in love with that fat girl. She loved me too. It's funny how at that age you can call it such a feeling. Anyway, I thought then that starting a family was much simpler. I even told my parents I'd marry her. Ah, that was Arcadia's time. She's not coming back.

"Do you have something against me?" He asked me.

"I don't understand. What should I have?" He wanted to say something, but I couldn't give him one. "Wait, let me tell you. You mean the proposal with the madhouse? Let me answer your question. I have this for you: you were never my friend. You were just a spectator to my life. I told you everything that happened in my complicated life." Besides, you don't understand me at all, so why am I telling you this?

I don't know what else he was doing in my house. I should have told him a long time ago how bad I was living with him.

A few days later, my transformation into an angel began. It happened so suddenly. I didn't know I had the mind of a man who had been an angel before he was born on this planet. The first stage was ridding myself of the people who held me back. I no longer had any friends. My family didn't understand me. I was supposed to be a man who was supposed to share as much true love as possible. Someone, something, caused me to fail in my youth. Maybe it was me. I had to learn everything before my wings were supposed to grow. I could already feel them creaking in my back, and I felt a terrible pain. I didn't know much about myself yet. I decided to look for answers.

"Finally," said the man who claimed to know about angels.

"Father, I am an angel.

" "I know.

If he had given a different answer, I would have abandoned him like a charlatan. But I had no choice. Even though what he said didn't make me believe in this strange man.

"Father, do you know any other angels?

" "Yes, many."

That's how my new acquaintance began. He was already an old man. He was 94 years old. They called him Father Jan. In reality, he had a completely different name. He didn't want to tell me. He said I'd learn everything in due time. Finally, however, he said something that made me definitely trust him.

"I'm an angel too."

He led me to a room where he kept several pairs of damaged wings.

"They grow back every 10 years, on the anniversary of my death.

" "Death?" I said, surprised.

"Well, I mean, being born on this planet, but dying as an angel.

" "Do you remember anything from that time when we were angels?"

"Unfortunately.

" "We have to seek the truth."

The next day I felt different. I was getting closer and closer to freedom. To spiritual freedom, finally knowing the truth about myself.

Jan knew what to do. He called a few priest friends from around the world. However, without gathering enough information, he told me he had to go away for quite a while and that I should wait for him. I was messing around town. I met Him again.

"We shouldn't argue," he said.

"What a revelation. We can forget it, you have your friends, you know I feel bad around them. Not just them, you're in this company too, which I don't like.

" "Maybe you're right. But I don't know how to help you anymore.

" "And how did you want to help me?!?" I yelled at him. "You wanted to make me the same social creature as everyone else. And I'm not like everyone else, you understand.

" "I understand, but...

" "Exactly. That's why don't you say anything. "

Only after a moment of silence did he dare to speak.

"So, is it over with us?"

What was I supposed to say?

"Yes!

" "You don't have any friends anymore." – but he doubted it because he asked, “Right?”

I didn’t want to answer him, but I did with a gesture. I don’t know if I wanted to, but I had no choice.

“I don’t have time for friends.”

He wanted to lecture me again, as he does, with wisdom, which may have been right, and which may have been wrong in some places. I didn’t let him. I left him without even saying “hello,” “goodbye,” or anything like that.

To achieve a goal, you have to strive for it yourself and not allow yourself to love someone, because feelings can destroy you. I knew this well; many have fallen in battle. I had a great goal, to discover myself.

“Maria?

” “Yeah.

” “Listen,” Jan said quickly, “I already know something. I’m coming to you with the manuscripts. It turns out that an angel of love must have revealed himself in 2005 near the “Perly.”

“What?

” “That little hill in your Gdynia forest.”

“What?

” “There, I don’t know, apparently aliens landed there once, but no one knows what it was.” Only a select few know about it.

- So what?

- I suspect the boy should be blond.

- What? Does that mean I'm not an angel?

- I don't know, certainly not the one we're looking for now.

- And why do we need him?

- You have a knack for it, find him, I'll be there soon and we'll talk.