Читать книгу Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life - Danny Osipenko - Страница 7

Heresy. All is heresy. A deception of untainted water.

At this point, I was lying to everyone. My dad, Miranda, Aunt Jo, my personal therapist Brenden Cooper, and even our concierge, Frank. And they all believed my heresy.

In fact, I was in pain. Reckless, to the point of clinking in my own tiny bathroom, where no one would see my pain. In all four years, I didn’t show it to others. It was only my pain, my torment, and my punishment.

After Mike’s death, my life was transformed into theater. I put on different masks in front of people and played my part. And after another intermission, I would lock myself in the bathroom of my own apartment and indulge in self-torture.

Mr. Cooper, the psychologist hired by my dad, even though he looked like a man who believed in me. Still, from time to time I noticed doubt in his eyes. Maybe if I was a little more candid, then I would be able to tell him what was happening in my life and my soul. But how could he know that? A man with a beautiful wife and two little kids! He lived in a world of happiness and domestic harmony. While I was living in misery and spiritual anguish.

Mr. Cooper loved to repeat, the only word he liked to use was «lingering depression. In just one hour of our meeting, he said it twice20. Apparently, in his mind, that’s exactly how it looks. Part of the reward for me was that he didn’t dig deeper into the very essence of the difficulty. And that annoyed me.

To be frank, I was annoyed by everything. People, whether they were close to me or strangers. The things around me, the weather on the other side of the window, the sounds, the voices, even the silence made me furious. I could hold this feeling inside me for a long time, until I was alone with myself. That was my therapy and I needed nothing else. Over time, this life became the norm for me. I smiled when it was necessary, and afterwards I returned to my empty apartment, took off my mask, and transformed into myself.

If anyone had seen me in those moments, they might have thought I was no longer alive. I sat naked in the bathroom for a long time, my knees pressed against my chest, listening to the soft murmur of the tap water. I devoted that time to my main symphony of life – a melody moving from unbearable pain to serene emptiness. After a few hours in the bathroom, I was exhausted and broken, moved to my bedroom and lay awake for half the night looking up at the night sky, not thinking about anything.

Miranda would come back, and I’d start my own play again. I got up in the afternoon, put on my business suit, ate one milk sandwich, pretended to be late, and left for work. I did all this so Miranda wouldn’t ask me any questions. What my friend didn’t know was that I didn’t actually work at a prestigious company. That I had never even applied there in the first place. Neither my loved ones nor my father knew that either. They believed in my heresy. Several times one of them dropped me off at the head office of ARTNOVA Design Studio. But none of them bothered to check to see if it was in fact true. They smiled, telling others that I was working at a lovely job where I was designing websites for various companies. They believed the heresy I made up and were happy. In fact, I only had the occasional part-time job at a small greeting card design firm that did work online.

Twice a month I visited the library and took a stroll to the pool, at least to relieve my boredom. Since not enough people went to the library at nine o’clock, it was the same with the pool. I told Miranda I was going to work, but in fact I was in one of these places. There was a peace and quiet that allowed me to be alone. In the library I mostly slept and only occasionally read one of the books I took with me. Hence the small number I read. When people came, I went to the park, ate one ice-cream or continued to sleep on the bench. On several occasions I was naturally approached by the police, so I had to keep my passport with me at all times. If I had been taken to the police station for a few hours, all my relatives would have heard about it. Then my heresy would have been exposed, which means I had to say that I do not work and never worked at the design studio «ARTNOVA». After one uncovered deception, would have been followed by another, and so everyone would finally realized that in fact I was leading everyone astray, almost years5. And maybe after that they would have put me in a hospital to help me cope with my own spiritual pain. But that’s exactly what I didn’t want. That’s why I hid behind masks. It was the only way I could survive in their happy world and stay alive. Maybe at some point I would become ordinary. Or maybe I would just end it once and for all. It was up to me to decide, and that meant I was the only one who had to fight.

In my soul I am a lonely warrior and everyone calls me nothing.