Echo of the Past

12. Marcin

Translator: Schiotka

Editor: Pasadera, JacquelineMonaie

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I was alone in my hotel room.

I sat on the edge of a high bed, one that anyone else in the whole world would probably find super comfortable.

But not me.

Resting my forearms on my thighs, I stared down blankly at the white, hairy carpet. I poked at it with my foot, checking its softness.

I felt as if I'd made the worst decision of my life.

And it wasn't about me being hundreds of kilometers from home. Immersed in a different culture that I didn't understand, in which I wasn't really interested. It wasn't about not knowing the language of the country. Or that I'd found myself in a big city, supposedly one of the most expensive in the world.

No.

It wasn't about that.

At that moment my biggest issue was that I didn't have my mattress with me.

And it wasn't just anxiety.

It was panic.

Because I was supposed to stay in Oslo for a few months, and I was alone. All alone.

With a whole unfamiliar cityscape outside my window.

Absurdly, I'd suddenly realized I couldn't sleep on anything other than my mattress.

Correction.

I couldn't sleep on anything besides my mattress or Niv's bed.

Nivan's.

My throat tightened.

Where had my courage gone? And my confidence in making my own decisions?

The answer wasn't difficult.

It dissipated the moment I entered that hotel room and realized where I'd found myself.

How much I'd miss everything.

I sat like that, numb, finally thinking about the consequences of the decision I'd made.

I realized that after only a few months of living with the Redhead, I had become dependent on him. I realized how much I needed his presence. He was the person with whom I wanted to share my achievements and my failures. I embraced him. I spent time with him. I slept with him.

I wanted to share everything with him. Only him.

So why... why did I do this?

Why did I run again?

Maybe it's... my heart. It wants to be noticed. It's reaching out with its hands.

Something inside me hurt. Badly.

I closed my eyes.

Yes.

I must take responsibility for my actions.

No one forced this on me. I made this decision on my own, knowing the consequences.

I need to be strong.

Yes.

Strong.

But at that moment I felt weaker than ever.