Echo of the Past

06. Marcin

Translator: Schiotka
Editor: Pasadera, JacquelineMonaie

I dreamed about it again.

That I was there. Again.

I was only eighteen at the time. And to this day, I don't know how I came to be there. Probably because I had a lot of connections, a lot of friends. Well, that seems plausible, considering I'd always managed to pick up guys by simply walking down the street.

Yes, I have some faggot beacon on me. I'm audacious, bold... and then there's that innate charm of mine, which helps too.

I always tapped into it whenever I could. Although occasionally it backfired on me, and I'd be rewarded with a nasty beating.

And then sometimes I'd still get him in my bed anyway.

Some of those acquaintances lasted longer. Sometimes deeper feelings were involved, although most went without.

I was never alone, but my relationships ended quickly. They slipped through my fingers like sand.

I could quote a line from one of my favorite songs; one I think was written especially for me:

"I have always been an extremely sexual being..."*

I don't remember most of my lovers' names.

But that was never important.

The sexual intimacy was important, as was the fact that someone would still be in my bed in the morning.

Because I'm not able to be alone. I just don't cope.

Once I was in a relationship with a guy I lived with. And that was enough for me; I wasn't chasing after others. Because he was next to me when I woke up at night.

But his unexplained "absences" impacted me greatly.

Because sleep is my own brand of hell when no one's at my fingertips.

I find it difficult to fall asleep, and when I finally do, I don't rest. I wake harboring some sense of unease, of anxiousness. It's been like this for a long time now, so long I don't even remember how, or when, it all started.

And I never told anyone about it.

It was my little secret.

It's been hard for me recently. The sleeping problems have returned.

I stopped seeing Filip; I felt I was cheating him, knowing I have feelings for the Redhead. I'm alone by my own making, not having the one I really want, even though he's practically at arm's reach.

But I can't claim him just like that. Because I still have this stupid conscience.

I fell for the Redhead again.

Hopelessly. Ridiculously.

It hit me hard. Shivers run through me when he accidentally touches me. I hold my breath whenever he's near. I catch myself breathing in his scent, listening intently to his voice.

Like the utter moron I am.

I don't have any control over it.

I still go to his room at night, but I don't want to invade his space, so I sleep on the floor. I drag in a thin mattress at two or three in the morning. I never ask his permission, but he's never kicked me out.

I grit my teeth whenever he sees Jim.

I clench my fingers on the door frame whenever I see his naked back.