about this summer (summer of 2016) and, I hope, will remain the most difficult my summer. I had very little to do: write about a trip to Chernigov and how I spent the last days of August with aunt Galya and Tomer, who came from Israel. The thought and desire to write this note came to me a few minutes ago, when I watched the news tape and saw the inscription "You mean so much to me". It was this inscription I wrote on the back of the vinyl record, which was going to give him. Then they [words] seemed so loud to me, then I thought they were so important, I thought that with their help I could bring something to him so that he could understand that I was still waiting for him. But when I saw these words today, I realized how insignificant they looked in his eyes. Hollow words that meant nothing to him, which only caused a smirk on his face and the thought of how stupid I was that I still did not understand anything. The most important thing is that finally they did not cause me anything except the realization of their own stupidity. And I'm so glad that when I look at this phrase, I do not think about the sense that I once put in it. I've been waiting for this for so long. At last it came and I no longer feel vulnerable to the past. » She was wrong. Otherwise how to explain how she deals with others? ***He did not give her a scarf in the cinema, and she wrote him "thank you" for it. Without any sarcasm. Then, he seemed to her such a serious touchy, cold and even rude young man who is not capable of tender feelings. But, alas, he fell in love with her. The biggest disappointment in the last year of her life. He was so nice to her. He drove to a cafe, invited to visit galleries, they went together to nature. He photographed her, brewed tea in a thermos and made sandwiches, so she was not hungry. Once, he even took with him a wand of incense, lit it when they were sitting in a boat in the middle of a dried lake. And she was overwhelmed with discontent and thoughts about the universal [from “universe”] irrelevance of this action. "Oh, god, this is absurd! - she thought, twisting inside, - who burns incense on the street? ». After that, she stopped kissing him. She can not force herself to feel emotions and feelings for him. Then it was only worse. His smell of sweat at the hugs in the cafe. Smell of socks at a meeting in the gallery of paintings. She laughed so much inside herself when she thought about "how can he let this happen?" - to feel such a smell in the picture gallery seemed absurd to her. And the whole situation is the same. The dimple on his chin no longer seemed attractive to her. His clubfoot when walking, she no longer perceived as something cute. His low growth more and more crashed into her attention - she likes tall boys. One day, after the film, they approached the bar, where his favorite band’s songs played. He began to dance, and she did not know what to do with herself - how much his movements seemed to him ridiculous. He was like a penguin on a jogging track, which at the same time tries to move the hips in the sides to the bit. The next day she returned from the store with her mother and suddenly noticed him near the entrance to the flowers. "Mom! And now listen to me. You go first, you hold the package in your right hand, and I'll be left behind. He should not see me! ". He did not see, because he was looking for her number in the phone book. She could not ignore him. "Do not give me bouquets, please! - when she told him. "Flowers do not deserve such death!" He was so happy that evening . Gave her a postcard and a bouquet. And she blew him off that evening. Flowers are the last straw. — Should have just said f*cking character , haha.
— Said what? — Well, too good a guy. All these boxes, candy.. life is completely stupid, because sometimes instead of boxes it must be quite different. And hell, she [life] does not say when. * The next morning * - I do not let you go, D.K. Too simple. That’s not why I did not give you a scarf.
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