My Blue Eyes PART ONE

2 months ago precisely.

I had a clear plan for myself. Everything was set, I was all eager and excited to start again, be back with my life and return to the old streets and buildings that I once liked so much.

Except, the unexpected series of events completely ruined it.

2 moths ago I was in the course of packing my stuff and moving them out of the apartment I rented for a year. It was located in my hometown. I chose it purposefully as I needed a break form a big city life, slow down, recharge my batteries and finally finish work on my very own book that I always wanted to publish.

It was an important time for me. My hometown is rather small, without much entertainment or places to go and hang out with friends. For this reason, I spent most of my free time and evenings on my balcony. The apartment was situated on the first floor, so whenever I was there I could observe the people and nearby streets with a big supermarket which in such towns serves as a kind of a place for socializing with others. It was quite interesting to notice that, in fact, the life of people, be it in a big city or a small town, are rather very similar.

Walking the dog, then going to work or school, doing the shopping, coming back home, dinner, walking the dog, TV time, sleeping. Not much of a difference. And nothing special that would truly attract my attention. Hence, spending time on the balcony was rather silent therapeutic sessions that I had with myself. I was writing a journal in which, for the very first time, I admitted to myself some of the painful truths I didn’t want to accept.

It took a few months to fully immerse in my unhealed feelings that I was always afraid to deal with but that time I promised myself that I’d do the job and finally face all the memories from the past that were holding me back in the present.

I felt for the first time that I was ready to move back to the city in November. I always loved my hometown and it will forever have a special place in my heart, but that day in November… I remember it very well. It was almost winter season when the days are relatively short. It gets dark around 4 pm. I decided to go and do a little shopping to kill time. I headed home in the late afternoon and only then did it hit me how unfriendly and hostile that town was. While walking down the streets I felt almost like back in the days when I lived in Russia . Dimly lit streets, drunkers hiding in the dark, closed shops, no nightlife, occasional police patrols. I thought to myself “Do I really want to spend the rest of my life here?”. I grew up in the country, in a house with a big garden and surrounded by fields and farms. My hometown was a place where I went to schools and college only. I never lived there, actually. I moved out of the country to live in a big city. I liked it there as it gave me anonymity. It offered much more opportunities and chances to grow. And that’s what I wanted. I needed to develop myself, gain experience, meet people, learn, travel.

I was back in the apartment that suddenly seemed strange and cold. I started feeling more like a guest, not a righteous tenant who is entitled to do everything they want to. When I moved to my hometown a year ago, I felt like I settled down. Finally, I’d say, looking back at the life I’ve had so far. At some point, though, I started feeling a bit of a discomfort. There was this little voice in my heart saying “Is it really the life you want to have till you die?”. I felt stagnated and given up on many dreams that I had. I knew that if I’d stayed there, I’d never achieve anything more in my life. For a small town mentality, I’ve already achieved a lot and if I continued that way, I’d be fine and set for the rest of my life.

The decision was made then. I’m moving back to the city. The city that I left because I was fed up with, the city that brought back so many bitter memories, but still the city that never sleeps, the city that thrives. As a single person, I could count only on myself when it came to packing, undoing the furniture and transporting it to my sister’s for a while until I find a new place. I was quite desperate to finish with all the mess before Christmas so I could finally relax and focus on the apartment hunt.

Surprisingly, all went pretty smoothly and even better that I assumed. I was really happy and relieved to hear from my cousin, who offered me the transport of big furniture two days before Christmas Eve. I was already really tired after all the packing but I knew I had to squeeze some more energy on that day to seamlessly finish off the moving and return the keys to my landlady the same day.

So it was all done by the evening. I was exhausted, but really happy that it was over. I dreamed only about the shower and long sleep. After all, I deserved it. I did a great job. And I was excited that a new chapter of my life is just round the corner. The only thing I had to do was to find a perfect place to live and that’s all. Everything according to plan.

Apart from the events that happened the following morning.


© Lusessita Kingsley 2020


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