she

Honey, I don't understand. Tell me everything from the beginning.

" "You'll never understand.

" "I will."

After these words, the girl began to tell the story. At first, it was very difficult for her. It was hard for her to express her thoughts aloud after so many months of silence. But somehow, it went. Calling things by their names and seeing the sincere interest in her listener, she wondered how she could have remained silent for so long. She spoke and at the same time reflected on herself. Alone. Because this was hers alone. No one would ever have access to what was deep inside her. Her life—cool! She could still tell about it. Although it wasn't a bed of roses, nay! It wasn't a bed of roses at all. It was cold, unfriendly concrete. When the girl imagined her life as a piece of concrete, just ordinary concrete, she started laughing. Laughing hysterically.

"Ania? What are you laughing at?" the boy asked, concerned.

"You wouldn't understand anyway," she replied dismissively.

"Anka!" Why do you always assume I won't understand?! Do you think life has been kind to me?! I haven't had it easy either.

"Yhyhyhy!" she mocked him. "You, your pants, and your blocks. And the bench. How could I forget about the bench," she added ironically. "So listen. You claim you love me. I'm telling you you don't know me, that you don't really know who I am.

" "But I want to get to know you!" he said reproachfully.

"We'll talk tomorrow. Go away!"

He left. Like so many others. As usual, she couldn't understand why he was doing this. She wished it were otherwise. That boy wasn't the worst at all... But what good was a boy to her? She was alone, independent, unique, yet at the same time, part of the gray mass. She slowly moved away from the door, entered her room, barricaded herself from the world, and turned on the music that helped her dig her hole. In moments like these, she hated herself. She wanted to put an end to the string of suffering that made up her life. In reality, she lacks the courage and strength to end it all. She sits cross-legged on the floor, closes her eyes, tears streaming down her face, and nods her head to the music. She feels incredibly soothed. It feels as if all her problems are flowing out of her along with her tears.

Her

family was completely normal. She was an only child, praised by her parents and grandparents. She wasn't spoiled, nor did she lack love. She was well-liked by everyone around her, she went to parties. She didn't do drugs, didn't smoke, and drank a little occasionally. But she felt her life was empty, without purpose or deeper meaning. But she didn't admit it to anyone. She pretended her life was great and that was it.

She had plenty of friends because she was very nice, eloquent, and always smiling. She always had a few admirers around her. But she didn't seem to care. Sometimes she played with guys' feelings, then apologized to them. The vast majority of her friends were incredibly jealous of her success and couldn't understand why Ania hadn't settled down with anyone long-term.

But despite her extensive circle of acquaintances, Ania didn't have a true friend. She didn't fully trust anyone. She was afraid that if she expressed her thoughts, someone would simply laugh them off. She could have kept a diary, but she didn't, fearing someone might read it.

To summarize all the above, this girl, though seemingly happy, wasn't really. Why? The answer is very simple: because in her head, tiny problems grew into giant problems. In fact, it's not even worth mentioning them here. They're so trivial... But a teenager who doesn't have such real problems has to invent them. But Ania, it must be admitted, had one real problem. But more on that later.

Once, when she was sitting in her room, crying and shaking, someone rang the doorbell. At first, she didn't want to answer, but after a moment, she remembered that Robert was supposed to be coming over today, and a quite logical plan formed in her head.

She tiptoed to the door, just in case it was someone else, cautiously looked through the peephole, and realized with relief that it was him. He stood by the door, slightly nervous, looking meekly at the doormat. Ania, satisfied with his attitude, assumed the saddest of sad expressions and opened the door.

"Uhm..." Robert said, slightly confused. "Hi, Ania.

" "Well, hi," she replied tearfully, lowering her eyes. "Come in.

" "Uh... But am I coming at a bad time?

" "No, I'll calm down in a moment."

Robert entered Ania's room and saw a note on her desk. He actually glanced at it casually. And she exclaimed, "Don't even dare look that way!" Then she ran over and put the note in her desk. He looked at her in surprise, but he was already used to her strange behavior.

"Can I ask you a rude question?" he asked.

"If it's not about that note, of course.

" "Why were you crying?

" "Because. I mean, because... Because I missed you so much." It sounded like a cheesy scene from a Brazilian TV series.

"Ania, don't give me crap. I can clearly see you mean something else.

" "No. You don't know. You don't know me. Nobody knows me. Nobody! I don't even know myself." This line, in turn, sounded like a scene from some made-up drama.

Ania always wanted to seem like a tough girl with a strong personality, not some sweet idiot. She often devised a plan for how to act, how to behave. But she almost never acted on it. These carefully orchestrated scenes seemed trivial in reality and always ended with her getting angry at herself and yelling at others for no reason.

That July, she met a boy she liked for his looks and personality. Everything happened very quickly. After just a week, they were a couple. Ania knew little about him. She mostly talked. Actually, it was about trivial things. After a month of dating, the boy proposed having sex with her. She agreed because she'd thought about it the previous evening and decided she wanted it. She was curious what it was like, and after all, she loved him. The next morning, she went to see him. But he wasn't there. And not because he'd gone anywhere. He'd killed himself.

Ania couldn't understand why he'd done this to her. She couldn't even hold back the tears. She felt completely empty inside. She couldn't eat and couldn't hear anyone talking to her. Nothing reached her; she felt completely numb. Sometimes she was even angry with herself for losing her virginity to him. And sometimes she was so happy because she'd given her beloved something precious.

That's why this poor girl was afraid to commit to any relationship. She was afraid that once she truly started loving him, he'd somehow leave her.

***

"I could have just not pushed him away," she thought to herself, "he's completely, completely fine!" She even wanted to scream after him, run... But she restrained herself—after all, she wouldn't act like an idiot. Then she realized it was the first time she'd told anyone about her one and only real boyfriend. The doorbell interrupted her thoughts.

It was him. She opened the door and looked at him expectantly.

"Listen, Ania. After what you told me... I thought to myself, I love you even more."

- But I told you I'm too weak to have a boyfriend...

- I'll make you stronger. I'll help you get over this.

- As you wish, but it won't be easy...