Tag Archive for 'broken-heart'

Meeting my father

Published by
Lidija
 in memory. 0 Comments

The most important day of my life was December 5, 1995, when I met my father for the first time. I was informed about his arrival and I was supposed to go and meet him at the local law court. I could not sleep the whole night and I was so nervous that I almost decided not to go, but, after a long conversation, my best friend Sivlija managed to convince me to change my mind. She went with me to the courthouse where we sat near the front door in order to see everybody entering. Suddenly Silvija showed me a grey man who was talking to the lawyer in the nearby corridor and she said: “For sure he is your father”. I did not believe her and I continued looking for a person from my dreams and from my grandmother’s stories: “He is a tall and strong man with black hair”, I was often told.
A minute later Silvija’s mother, who is employed there too, came and gave me a sign that he was the man I had been looking for - for 16 years. Then Silvija went to school and I stayed there alone. I knew that he was sitting behind the pillar, but I could not move. I stood there rooted, looking in his direction. I wanted to run away after I realised how many nights I has spend crying because of him, how many nights I had been dreaming about him, how much sorrow there still was in my heart because of him. I was so confused. All these memories threatened to destroy me. Finally I stood up and made the first step of the seven steps I will never forget.

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Dream in hand

Published by
abraxus
 in dream. 0 Comments

Once I had a weird dream. I guess I was 19 at the time. In this dream I am a bird, a pigeon. I see my girlfriend nearby me. She is naked: I can see her little breasts and her belly, and staff. She wears a tall fur hat on her head and  long boots somehow. She looks at me, and I look at her. She smiles. She comes closer. Suddenly she steps on my right wing and starts to crash it violently with her heel, in a very brutal way. I’m in pain, I scream, but I can’t do anything. I still remember my another wing flapping on the ground as in agony, so little clouds of dust come up. She smiles, she enjoyes it, but her smile is kind of evil now.

When I woke up, my right arm was swollen and hurt. I hardly could move it. So I went to university, where we both studied. I remember meeting her on a way, in a long corridor winding around the building. It was winter, and she was wearing a fur hat, though of a different shape. I came closer, she looked very distant and cold. I didn’t have a chance to tell her something, as she was the first one to say: ” we are finished. I’m with another guy”. And she left without saying anything else, without turning back.

My heart was broke. She was my first love and first girlfriend, and the guy she was talking about was nearly 10 years older, and just retired from army forces. He was massive, stupid and ugly, with red spots covering all his face and neck. I was the one who introduced him to her, as I met him on few times before in a student’s  film club.

I felt bad, very bad. And even worse: if he’d be cool, it wouldn’t hurt me that much. I guess it would be easier for me to understand. My hand was just fine in a couple of days after that. I never spoke to her afterwards again.

It is  a strange dream, as in Russian, my first language, people say sometimes “son v ruku” (dream in hand) about dreams in which we can see events which will later become true. I never had “dreams in hand” since.

abraxus

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