After that I was sick for a couple of days and this became one of my worst poisonings. I remembered that moment forever and decided that on this note my brief affair with alcohol would be over. And so it was.
Also that summer, I became distant with the friend who was with a girl with whom I once loved. Naturally, he was not to blame for anything, but given that at that moment my life had almost reached the bottom, and I had no idea how to fix this, I was then not up to the logic and simplicity of life… which was an error, as we will learn later.
I also got distant with my old friends because of the growing difference in interests. So, in the village I did not want to spend time repairing old motorbikes all day long, and in Moscow my friends were fond of rap music. I like some foreign rappers, but by and large I was not very interested, and I was a bit bored with my friends.
I started to sleep badly and would often go home early, when everyone else stayed up until dawn. I think that fantasizing and masturbation were slowly taking over my health. But I did not see it yet back then.
Everything that has a beginning has an end, and that summer was no exception.
I did not stay at the University for long, because the old problems and fears returned, even though I did not need to talk to anyone there.
One of the key points was that one of the beautiful girls of our faculty, whom I liked, began to have sex with another guy. I do not think that they were going out for a long time and actually got to know each other – at that time it was already considered old-fashioned in certain circles.
Another point was that we needed to go to a museum, and when I arrived by metro to the right place, I realized that I did not know where to go. To ask complete strangers on the street how to get to the museum was not an option at that time because of my fear of speaking. I rode back home.
Soon they expelled me for not attending the University, and the money that my father could collect for my “studies” was not returned, although the girl in charge wanted to help with this.
Having no more visible purpose in my life, I was completely absorbed in my fantasies. The themes of my fantasies could be related to friends, the video games I played, and just different things that I read about on the Internet.
Regarding the video games, I always preferred to play games with a good, in my opinion, story, or just with a very good gameplay. One of such games was Half-Life. Recently, Half – Life: Episode 1 was released and, having downloaded that episode from the Internet, I started playing it. The only negative thing that happened while playing it was that at the level where you need to wait for the elevator, fighting off crowds of zombies, I began to be very tense. I had already developed a bad habit of biting my lips. We also had old wooden windows, from which cold air was seeping through in cold seasons, and because of this, my lips were chapped. While playing in that game level, I bit my upper lip too hard on the right side. I got blood flowing. I washed my lip and put a cotton swab on the wound. The blood stopped, and I went to go about my business. The consequences of that incident remind me of the event every time I look in the mirror – the bite has cured so that I have a somewhat noticeable lip asymmetry.
There was a time when I had the following dream. I was on a tram which was riding from a stop next to my former school. In the car in the solitary seat sat the same girl who asked me if I wanted to be her boyfriend in the tenth grade. I thought to approach her, but suddenly the guy, who deprived her of virginity in reality, came up to her. Suddenly, I no longer had any desire to talk with her, I gave up and allowed that guy to talk to her while I stood silently on the sidelines. And then, as if from nowhere, my village friend with black hair, Olga, sitting on the other seat, said to me: “Zhenya, you were going down for your whole life. Isn’t it time to go up?” – I immediately woke up. My mind was
It was a scary period of my life. I understood what the constant use of my imagination had led me to, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not do anything about it – the habit was very strong and refused to leave. And in cases when I was able to momentarily remove the imagination from everyday life, I immediately remembered stuttering and my lip, began to worry and think about it, and then thoughts again smoothly merged into the imagination. I could not leave from withing myself…
Since I did not study, I went to the village early. I think that I was helping my mother with the housework and almost did not go anywhere outside.
That summer, my aunt Liza died in the village. All my life that I knew her, she was very kind and responsive. She had never been rude to anyone and seemed to have had no negative thoughts.
Unfortunately, my father then got very drunk with my two uncles, and they could not attend the funeral.
Having problems with imagination, I understood that Liza was no longer alive, but I could not feel any feelings about this, everything that was happening was in a “haze” and seemed to be far away. I understood that such a state of consciousness is not normal, remembering very well my dream, and the full focus and pure clarity of consciousness after it. But I could not free myself from these shackles – with the exception of one moment when I was able to concentrate on reality for a sufficiently long time. Then it was evening, and I went for a walk. My friend Natasha asked me why I was so sad? I did not know what to answer – and then I still could not tell the whole truth. I did not want to be sad and live in boredom, and the imagination again consumed me.
One day our company was drinking. As far as I remember, I did not touch any alcohol then. At that time, many guys were crowding around one of my old female friends. They were hugging with her and so on. I do not remember if I was a bit drunk after all, or I just wanted to get a little closer to her, but to my flirtations she told me the following: “Listen, you moron, stop touching me!” It hurt me, and for a long time I remembered that incident, wondering why she said it to me and in such a harsh form? After all, I did not want to do anything bad to her and I was her old friend. She did not treat new strangers like that. Moreover, it was she who had previously told me that I was a “very handsome boy”. So what had changed since then?
There were other cases when some long-time friends said something negative about me to others and looked somewhat weirdly in my direction. I could only guess about the reasons for their actions, since none of my old friends told me anything at all. In addition, I did not ask them for an answer.
In the fall, when I returned to Moscow, I received call-up papers to the recruitment office. While I was driving there, I saw a very pretty girl in the tram. She was different from other people in that she cheerfully looked at the sunny street from the window of the tram. She got out of the car, and for a while I was following her with my gaze. I recalled her from time to time. In the process of writing this book, I understand that perhaps her cheerfulness was the reason for my craving for her. We already had something in common.
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