Vadim Alone Against The World #2
Maybe the second I’m gone, all of those changes will vanish like smoke.
I’ll go back to being the shy, well-behaved, self-effacing, little Alma, who does what is expected of her and lets herself be influenced by others.
Because it’s easier that way. Because you won’t be there to hold me up anymore.
But it doesn’t matter if I collapse, if I fade away.
I’ll always remember what you did for me.
And I will know that I returned the favor, just once.
Because today it’s my turn. Well, tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I’ll give you back your freedom.
It’s the most beautiful, the greatest, the strongest thing about you.
It’s what I admire most about you, and it’s what made me love you.
Without it, you wouldn’t be who you are.
You taught me about the thirst for freedom.
You breathed it into me for nine months.
And tomorrow, I’ll give yours back to you.
Against your will, I know. But I’ll do it for you, so that you can breathe again.
And I’ll walk away with my heart in pieces, after shedding every tear I have.
The pain of losing you is nothing compared to the happiness of knowing you’re free. That’s the only way I can show my love for you. And it’s the only way I’ll still be able to love myself, even a little.
Do you remember how you used to criticize me for being afraid of everything? Afraid of my father, my teachers, and what people would think of me. Afraid of you and afraid of myself. You couldn’t stand it.
For the first time, I’m not afraid, Vadim. I know what I’m doing.
Will you resent me? Probably.
Is it your fault too? Maybe a little. Because you gave me confidence in myself. You told me I had the right to live, to think, to act however I wanted. That I had no reason to be afraid if I listened to my heart.
This is the result.
You can hate me as much as you want. I would do it again ten times, a hundred times, a billion times over.
I would be just as brave, as crazy, and as stubborn as you.
Because you got under my skin. You’re in my blood.
You flow through my veins. Because since you came into my life, I’m not the same anymore. Because I love you, Vadim.
And if I were never to see you again, these would be the last words I’d want to say to you. The last ones I’ll come and whisper to you tomorrow, with nothing but my eyes. My heart, however, will be screaming them.
And if one day, by some miracle, we meet again; if You + Me is as strong as I believe it is, strong enough to defy destiny, those will be the same words I’ll tell you again. I’ll still love you in ten years, in a hundred years, in a billion years.
Until then… Be happy, Vadim. Be crazy. Be free.
And, please, never forget me.
—Alma
I lie down on my sofa bed, my head hanging over the edge, the letter pressed tightly against my pounding heart.
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, trying to hold back the tears.
When I close my eyes, she’s right there: writing, hunched over her desk, lying on her stomach on her bed, or sitting on her carpet with her legs tucked beneath her, the chewed pen cap between her teeth, her lips quivering and her green eyes brimming with tears.
I want to hold her so badly…
Alma… How could you do this to us?
I jump to my feet, glance around the room, and see her everywhere.
Sitting, curled up at the end of the couch, the first time she came here.
Standing by the window on tiptoe, when she dared to make the first move and kiss me.
Lying there, naked, pretty much everywhere in this apartment, every time she let me share the space beside her.
All the times I watched her when she didn’t know I was looking, when she left me speechless, touched by her awkwardness, moved by her fears, overwhelmed by her beauty.
All those times I wondered how she could possibly love me.
And how I could ever live without her.
Overwhelmed by memories and questions, I panic.
I can’t breathe. I shove the crumpled pages of her letter into the pocket of my jeans and start running.
After slamming the door to my apartment behind me, I take the stairs four at a time, burst out into the street and run even faster.
My legs lead me to the only place I want to be right now: all the way at the back of the park, to the bench. “Our” bench.
If it’s still there, then maybe I’m not completely losing my mind.
I spot it, as worn as it’s always been, but still there. I sit down on it gently, careful not to disturb it. I lower my eyes to the words I carved into the wood. They’re all still there. The “You,” the “+,” and the “Me.” The only thing that’s missing is Alma.
In twenty-one years, that makes three times already. Three times the people I loved most in the world have left me, leaving me all alone, a nobody. My father and my mother. My brother. And my first love.
I had so much anger stored inside of me.
But Alma Lancaster came along and told me that I had the right to be happy, that I didn’t have to be mad at the whole world.
And then she snatched everything back. The happiness, the inner peace, the future I imagined for us, all the dreams that were becoming possibilities.
So, I’m going to do as she said. I’m going to be angry at her. She left me—I’ve got every right to hate her. As fiercely as she made me love her.
The only thing I won’t give up on is You + Me.
Are you game, Alma?
To be continued