Just another morning
With the first ray of sun my eyes opened. I go to shower, then exercise and have breakfast. Today is Saturday, spring cleaning day. Although the apartment is already tidy, I need to keep myself occupied with something. I wash the kitchen sink and mumble a song under my breath. Then I start sorting out the supplies in the cabinets, checking the expiration dates and calling out each date out loud. The next stage takes me back to the bedroom. I sort through, clean, scrub and at the same time repeat the poems I learned during my studies. I should do anything to keep the brain busy.
Cleaning is a monotonous, repetitive task that does not save me. So I have to sing, recite or memorize. These actions are for one goal. Don't remember. Not to think.
Colleague calls me on the phone.
“Sunny, can you work tomorrow?” the tone is pleading, but with a hint of confidence. At work, everyone is used to the fact that I willingly take on extra shifts. They think that I am saving money for a trip, for a big house, for an exotic hobby. I don't argue or object.
“Sure, no problem”.
I listen to the words of gratitude and smile sadly. An extra day at work gives me the opportunity to keep my mind even more busy. But I can’t explain this to the colleagues. I would work without any days off at all. Unfortunately, the body sometimes needs rest.
Talking on the phone took me out of my schedule. I’m trying to urgently get back to cleaning, but I realize that I’m late. Memories pile up like a heavy mountain, and I slide to the floor.
I fell pain, yearning and despair. And I have an endless whirlwind of incessant thoughts about him, my beloved, lost forever. Moon, why are we so unlucky? Tears do not come, despite the bitterness tearing at the heart. I want to dig my fingers into my chest and pull out the source of pain. I tried to do this once, I confess. I tried many ways to get rid of the endless melancholy of loneliness. I had one-night stands, I spent weeks and months having fun, using the alcohol. All types of narcotic oblivion, all methods of distraction and forgetting did not help me. Moon’s face stood before my eyes, and I wanted to howl and bang my head against the wall at the same time.
With difficulty, but I learned not to think or remember. I worked constantly, and on weekends I trained my brain like a dog, not allowing it to get loose. Most of the time I held on. But today I broke down again. With an impossible effort, I push the image of the past into the far corner of my consciousness and stand up. I pick up the vacuum cleaner and at the same time recite irregular verbs. My breathing becomes measured, and I return to my usual semi-existence.
A long time ago, the Sun's daughter and the Moon's son fell in love with each other. They rushed across the sky, holding hands, and rejoiced in their love. But one day their parents got tired of it, and they separated the couple, settling them on different planets. However, they did not stop there, making sure that the lovers would never meet. She lived only during the day; his time became night. They are never destined to meet anywhere again forever and ever.
Cleaning is a monotonous, repetitive task that does not save me. So I have to sing, recite or memorize. These actions are for one goal. Don't remember. Not to think.
Colleague calls me on the phone.
“Sunny, can you work tomorrow?” the tone is pleading, but with a hint of confidence. At work, everyone is used to the fact that I willingly take on extra shifts. They think that I am saving money for a trip, for a big house, for an exotic hobby. I don't argue or object.
“Sure, no problem”.
I listen to the words of gratitude and smile sadly. An extra day at work gives me the opportunity to keep my mind even more busy. But I can’t explain this to the colleagues. I would work without any days off at all. Unfortunately, the body sometimes needs rest.
Talking on the phone took me out of my schedule. I’m trying to urgently get back to cleaning, but I realize that I’m late. Memories pile up like a heavy mountain, and I slide to the floor.
I fell pain, yearning and despair. And I have an endless whirlwind of incessant thoughts about him, my beloved, lost forever. Moon, why are we so unlucky? Tears do not come, despite the bitterness tearing at the heart. I want to dig my fingers into my chest and pull out the source of pain. I tried to do this once, I confess. I tried many ways to get rid of the endless melancholy of loneliness. I had one-night stands, I spent weeks and months having fun, using the alcohol. All types of narcotic oblivion, all methods of distraction and forgetting did not help me. Moon’s face stood before my eyes, and I wanted to howl and bang my head against the wall at the same time.
With difficulty, but I learned not to think or remember. I worked constantly, and on weekends I trained my brain like a dog, not allowing it to get loose. Most of the time I held on. But today I broke down again. With an impossible effort, I push the image of the past into the far corner of my consciousness and stand up. I pick up the vacuum cleaner and at the same time recite irregular verbs. My breathing becomes measured, and I return to my usual semi-existence.
A long time ago, the Sun's daughter and the Moon's son fell in love with each other. They rushed across the sky, holding hands, and rejoiced in their love. But one day their parents got tired of it, and they separated the couple, settling them on different planets. However, they did not stop there, making sure that the lovers would never meet. She lived only during the day; his time became night. They are never destined to meet anywhere again forever and ever.