Bullets In Her Head (a Story About Family Loneliness)

Bullets In Her Head (a Story About Family Loneliness)
Bullets In Her Head (a Story About Family Loneliness)
Anonim

I want to put some stories in an artistic form in order to convey the feelings of the people I met on my way as subtly as possible. This story is as amazing as it is typical.

Unfortunately, its ending is surprising. Most often, the ending is completely different.

But the experience of loneliness in the family, alas, is not so rare.

I met Anya on one of the walking tours. People were already gathering in the center of the park on Sukharevskaya, but, as is usually the case at the beginning of the excursion, everyone was on his own - everyone kept aloof. In order to make the people away from each other a single group, a certain centrifugal force was needed - the sun, around which the planets would line up. And the sun was not long in coming. Exactly at ten to twelve, it left the doors of the Sukharevskaya metro station and walked with a soft light gait to the center of the park.

Anya was wearing a long coffee-colored silk skirt and a short denim jacket, cozy suede ballet flats, a shoulder bag and a bright multi-colored scarf. Wavy dark blond hair barely reached her shoulders. Nothing special. But as soon as she appeared, as if it really became brighter.

Stopping exactly in the center of the alley, she smiled only with the corners of her lips. But in her eyes, I saw it even at a distance, little mischievous sparks danced merrily. You will always find such sparkles in the eyes of people who are very keen on their work.

Anya was our guide. But everyone reached out to her even before she took out a sign with the name of the excursion from her bag. Despite all her simplicity, this woman made some amazing impression. She looked no more than thirty-five. But when we got to know each other better, I learned that she was forty-three.

This was one of my best excursions in Moscow. Houses, fences and even stones on the pavement - everything that Anya cast her gaze on came to life with incredible fascinating stories. The past and the future seem to converge at one point - here and now. I liked it so much that two weeks later I signed up for another Anya's excursion. And she turned out to be great too.

After the tour, I agreed to meet with a friend, but she was late. It was starting to rain. I went to Volkonsky on Maroseyka, took coffee, however, as expected on Sunday evening, there were no free tables. Pondering where to sit down, I saw Anya in the very corner by the window. I confidently walked towards her and sat down next to her. We got to talking. Upon learning that I was a psychologist, Anya perked up, began to ask me about the peculiarities of the behavior of adolescents. Her sons were ten and fifteen. She asked if she was doing the right thing in certain situations, if she was putting too much pressure on them. But from everything she told me, I realized that she has a wonderful relationship with children.

I promised to send her some articles on psychology. And in return, she promised to show me two unusual places in Moscow that have not yet been included in the excursions of their bureau. In short, we became friends. From time to time they met to go for a walk together, or to sit for a cup of coffee. In addition to psychology and art, there were many more common themes and fascinating stories. But the most interesting thing seemed to me the story of Anya herself, whom she told many months later, when we were walking on a warm May evening in Kolomenskoye.

In discussing Yalom's latest book, we started talking about the fear of death. Anya listened to my reasoning on this matter, and then suddenly said:

"Do you think dying is scary?" - She grinned in her usual friendly manner and answered herself: - Not at all. It's scary to live when you are not in this world. - Her gaze slid into the distance, over the river, into the bottomless expanse of the sky.

- What do you mean?

- I was already dying. Four years ago I was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

I looked at Anya in amazement, trying to discern at least a shadow of a terrible disease in her healthy, cheerful figure.

- She is no more, - catching my eye, she hastened to calm me down, - I am absolutely healthy.

- Have you operated on? - I exhaled with relief.

- No. The tumor disappeared by itself. You know, I am not strong in medicine, and in psychology, I am not strong either, but I know for sure that I died even before I was diagnosed with a tumor. In the sense that I died in soul. Well, or almost died.

I again looked at Anya in amazement.

- I was married then. I have been married for a very long time. We met Igor when I was 19. I was in my second year at the institute - I dreamed of becoming an art critic. I even painted a little! I had grandiose plans - I wanted to travel, see the world masterpieces of painting and architecture with my own eyes. I was fascinated by the history of art. I read a lot and could talk about it for hours. Igor also read a lot. We met him in the bookstore. But he read modern fiction and books on politics. It was interesting with him. And then it turned out that our fathers studied in the same class and know each other well. At this point, we became very close.

Igor graduated from the institute, we got married. He stayed to work at the department, was engaged in his scientific work, something about the properties of iron ore - it was always difficult for me to understand. His scientific project involved a trip to the places of occurrence of these ores, that is, it was necessary to live for some time in mountainous Altai, to make some samples, measurements. Igor was inspired to move there. I had to leave for a couple of years. And I was inspired by Igor and our marriage. Naturally, I said that I was going with him. My parents were totally against it. They tried to convince me that I should study and graduate from college, they said that I could go to him on vacation. But I could not imagine such a separation. Now my family was my main hobby. I transferred to the correspondence department and, like the wife of a Decembrist, easily and joyfully left with Igor for the Altai mountain wilderness. And I even liked it there. The nature, the views are magnificent! Life there flowed slowly, slowly. To keep myself busy, I painted. My husband, however, was quite skeptical about this, constantly criticizing my drawings.

Anya was silent for a few moments. It was as if she had moved many years ago to better remember that part of her life.

- It was not easy there…. But I didn't complain. I was looking for a positive side in everything. She used boredom to work on her diploma. My parents sent me a lot of books from Moscow - I read them. But I never got my diploma. A week before my departure for the defense, Igor slipped into a crevice in the mountains, that day there was a heavy downpour. Broke his leg and right hand. I wanted to take him to Moscow, but he flatly refused. I also could not leave him alone in such a helpless state on crutches and with a broken arm. Of course, I chose a husband. For a long time I could not get through to the institute, warn about my situation, asked my mother to go there and explain everything. Mom promised to do something. I stayed. The leg fracture was complex and did not heal well. Igor was furious with his own helplessness. I consoled him, tried to amuse him. Summer turned out to be cold. I caught a terrible cold. But I thought only about my husband, did not really get treatment. In short, when they removed the plaster cast, I came down with severe pneumonia. A frightened mother came and took me from the local village hospital to Moscow. And Igor stayed. For a long time I could not recover, and my parents forbade me to even think about leaving. My attending physician fully supported them. Igor called once a week, complained, said that he was very bad without me, that he was sitting half-starved on only pasta, as there was no one to cook. I missed him very much too.

When I left a little, I immediately went to the institute, but it turned out that I was expelled. The leadership has changed, the statement about my circumstances, which my mother wrote, was lost, my supervisor was fired - everything is like in a bad movie. Seeing that I was not backing down, I was offered to defend myself, but … for money. And the amount was not small. Hearing about this, Igor was terribly angry. He said that my dubious profession is not worth the money.

- Forget it, - he told me on the phone, - nobody needs it. You can live without a diploma.

The parents did not have that amount either. I was terribly upset. But nobody supported me. Mom just grumbled that I myself chose to go to Altai, instead of studying, now, it seems, I got what I deserved. Igor simply closed this topic and harshly and cynically suppressed any attempts to return to it.

I resigned myself. Moreover, the situation has become more complicated. Igor's department was suddenly disbanded, the project in which he worked was closed. He had to return. The time was so … chaos then. He got lost somehow. Didn't know what to do. It was impossible to get a job in his specialty anywhere. There was only enough money for the essentials.

Several years passed in this way. All these years I really wanted a child, but after Altai my health was undermined. The doctors shrugged their shoulders - they say, why did you run everything like that. When, after a few years, I finally got pregnant, my happiness knew no bounds. I instantly forgot about all the difficulties and hardships. She flew on wings. Igor, fortunately, also got down to business. With their classmate, they began to resell some spare parts for exploration instruments, and a small business was established. As soon as Andryushka grew up, Igor sent me to accounting courses. Business demanded reporting, but he did not want to take extra people - strangers had to pay a salary. Therefore, I was both for the dispatcher and for the accountant.

To be honest, I missed art. I secretly went with little Andryushka to museums and exhibitions - I took a breath after my accounting papers. They tired me insanely.

But when Nikita was born, I had to forget about museums and exhibitions. Spun like a squirrel in a wheel between her husband, children and work. And when melancholy covered me, I reminded myself that I was very happy, because I had a family - a husband and two wonderful sons. And I put my whole soul into my family.

You know, there are men who are trying with all their might to keep their wives at home, but Igor, on the contrary, wanted me to work. He constantly talked about how hard it was for him alone, and that he would like to be sure that if something goes wrong with him, I can provide for myself and the children. This idea began to sound especially insistently after his father died of a heart attack. Almost by the hand, he took me to the office of his friend, who needed an accountant. Igor praised me very much then, saying that I keep his affairs in perfect order. Order, indeed, was his fad, and it took me an incredible effort to follow all of its rules. After all, I am a creative, emotional person. I terribly did not want to go out for another job as an accountant, but … succumbed to persuasion. I saw that it was really hard for him. And although my salary was very ordinary, it warmed Igor.

Somehow, imperceptibly, irritation appeared in my life. Unclear, but boring. I watch a movie or a show - and I get angry. All this irritates to a headache. She stopped watching TV over time, and read books too. Somehow there were no friends left - Igor did not like noise, and therefore I stopped inviting guests home a long time ago, and there was simply no time to go out myself, and it was not decent somehow alone without a husband. And my husband was busy, or wanted to relax at home …

You know, we could sit for hours in the same room and not say a word to each other. Or let's go with the children to the park for a walk: the children run, laugh, we talk to them, but not with each other … We did not quarrel. It's just that there was nothing for us to talk about with Igor. His jokes began to seem to me stupid, evil, and his interests - so distant. And what was interesting to me, he did not take seriously. Mocked it. So I stopped sharing with him, especially what really, deeply touched me.

In a word, at some point I suddenly felt that in this life I have no one at all except children. Some kind of deep loneliness covered me. Such a strange feeling - as if I am separate, and the whole world is separate. I am sitting at work - colleagues are discussing something, making plans for the weekend, for the summer. And all my days are the same. And there are no plans. I look at them as aliens. Here, really, you will not believe it! I watch how they are dressed, how they laugh, how they choose which movie to go to the cinema, how they want to celebrate their birthday - and I wonder: where does so much life come from? And why is everything different in my family? Why can't I do this? I come home - I have a deathly silence: my husband watches some gloomy film (he could not stand comedies and light positive films). Children quietly sit in their room, so as not to interfere with dad, otherwise he will swear. I breathe in this air and feel my head start to ache, so boring, to the point of nausea.

It became hard to wake up in the morning, some kind of weakness appeared. As usual, there are a lot of things to do, and I'm a little alive: it's dark in my eyes, noise in my ears. I come home from work and fall, I can't stand - I feel so bad, everything is spinning before my eyes. And you also need to cook dinner, do your homework with Andryushka. Igor grumbles: “What’s wrong with you, I don’t understand! If you are sick - go to the doctor, why lie down ?! He didn’t like it when I was sick. I didn't understand, apparently, what to do at this moment. He walks, freaks out, and this makes me even worse, some kind of guilt appears, and it's just a shame that he doesn't give me a drop of pity and warmth when I need it so much, as if he punishes me with his coldness ….

Well, so I went to the doctor. Has passed the tests, was examined. The doctor all this time only nodded her head: "Do this, and this." I came again and asked:

- Do I have a tumor in my head? Speak bluntly, I can see it by your expression.

“Yes,” she says, “but don’t worry, the tumor is small, and you need to undergo additional examination to understand whether it is malignant or not.

You know, but I sit and understand that I'm not that I'm not worried - I'm happy. I could hardly hold back a smile. I ask her, somehow I ask so cheerfully:

- I will die?

She opened her eyes wide from the directness of the question or from the tone of my voice (I don’t know) and couldn’t find what to say right away. Then I started talking about the timeliness of treatment and writing out additional directions. And finally he says to me:

- I'll tell you honestly, there is a risk of death. You urgently need to undergo additional examination and be operated on for any result. An explosion can occur at any time.

I left the office in a slight shock. But not from the diagnosis. And from your reaction to him. I walk along the corridor, I see a woman crying, and next to a man, her husband, apparently at a loss, does not know what to say to her. She will lament: "I will not die, tell me, I will not die, will I?"

And then I was jolted. All these people want to live. But not me! I am glad that I have not long left. You understand?! I go and rejoice that I can die! It is a wild feeling that I was in prison for life and I was suddenly told that I would soon be released!

Anya fell silent. Being impressed, I tried to somehow comprehend her last words. I read a lot about people with cancer. And by virtue of her profession, she studied the problem of fear of death a lot. I also had to deal with people who were ready to commit suicide because of what they thought were insoluble problems. But thoughts about death have always been associated with heavy sorrowful experiences, these thoughts were more likely the result of despair. There was no joy in this.

- Anh, I understood you correctly, were you glad that you could die soon?

- That's the whole point, - Anya answered excitedly. - You heard everything correctly - I was delighted. As if death were freedom. I realized suddenly that I was waiting for her. I have been waiting for a long time. Everything fell into place in my head. All recent years I did not live as if, but served time. She looked at other people with slight envy and irritation - as if through a prison bars. And then the irritation passed. Resigned herself.

- Anya, please explain, I still do not really understand, you said that you were happy to have children, a family.

- Yes. - Anya was silent for a long time. Her face was focused and tense, I had never seen her like this.

- It's strange so. I disappeared into my family. It was dissolved. Without a remainder…. The interests of the family were so important that there could be no others. It seemed so natural to me. At some point, I realized that this is how I will live until the very end, until old age. After all, these are my loved ones, and the most important thing is that they feel good. And they feel good. So I should be fine too. I skillfully and reasonably convinced myself that I was very good. I believed it. Exactly until the moment I realized that I wanted to die as soon as possible. I felt shackled, walled up in a wall. Only my beloved people were shackles, and I could not go against them. Therefore, it remained only to accept and wait. Wait for me to fulfill this duty of mine. When I have outlived the years meted out…. There was no future. Of my future. There was a future for my children, my husband, but mine was not. As on a hospital monitor: the line jumps merrily in a zigzag - up and down - and then the amplitude becomes smaller and smaller, and now, instead of zigzags, a thin straight line going exactly to infinity, nowhere.

- What a strong image. Did you understand that on the very day you visited the doctor?

- Yes. I went home, but on Teatralnaya I got off the metro. I did that sometimes when I needed to think. I love the center of Moscow very much, and I breathe there in a special way. And so I went. By its usual route - to Tverskaya, and then along Tverskaya in the direction of the Patriarchs. There are always a lot of people in the center. So different! And they are all full of life. Someone is in a hurry, someone admires the beauty of the streets, someone swears. Someone is selling something. Someone just sits on the bench, catching their wonderful moment. Cars are rushing, honking. Doves in a flock flew off the cornice, fighting for pieces of a roll dropped by someone. Everything moves, everything lives. And I am in the midst of all this - like a shadow. That I am, that I am not. And I'm not sad at all. It just doesn't. There are no feelings. Except for one thing - surprise. Wondering that I might die soon. How does it die? After all, I am no longer there.

I sat down on a bench by the fountain and began to examine the building of the mayor's office on the opposite side of Tverskaya. A wonderful monument of Russian classicism. All the details were familiar to me: patterned capitals, cornices, high reliefs. How much time did I spend studying all this! I began to remember my student years. And your dreams. And something hurt so much inside. And suddenly the smell of life! So clearly I smelled this smell, like the smell of chocolate from a coffee shop around the corner. I dreamed of becoming an art critic…. I've read so many books about it! But instead of works of art, I study numbers and go through papers. She dreamed of traveling and visiting all the famous museums in the world. But with her boys over the past 5-6 years I have not even made it to the Kremlin and the Tretyakov Gallery. I have always been overwhelmed with feelings, emotions. And now I'm empty and lifeless like a plastic bottle lying on the sidewalk. So she fell under the feet of someone, then someone else and flew off to the roadway. And then she was crushed in a stream of cars. Has disappeared from sight. And I will also disappear. Very soon. My husband will be upset because it will get even harder for him. He will be gloomy and stern. Grandmothers will groan over my orphaned children. My colleagues will come to remember me and tell me how good I was as an accountant. Then they will forget that too. Everything.

At the same moment I got up and went. I went down to the metro at the nearest station, I think it was Pushkinskaya, got to Tretyakovskaya and - yes! I went there, to the Tretyakov Gallery! It was an unforgettable two hours. How little a person sometimes needs to feel at such a height!

I flew home on wings. But as soon as I entered the apartment, my wings became tiny. The carriage turned into a pumpkin, and the ball gown into rags. While she was laying the table, my head ached terribly. She sat everyone down for supper and lay down exhausted on the bed. The boys, as always, were arguing about something, Igor, as always grumbled, then the children went to their room, Igor moved to the sofa and turned on the news. I lay in the bedroom all alone. One. Nobody came in and asked why I was lying. Nobody asked what the doctor told me. No one for the entire evening. I had a family: a husband, two sons, but I was absolutely alone in this family. Or was I just not there?

I remembered my tumor. I imagined how every day I would feel worse and worse and I would be like this, lying alone, and no one would come to me, as if I had no one in the world. And then, probably, they will put me in the hospital, and no one will come to me. Only mom will cry quietly in the hallway from despair. And Igor will be busy all the time. After all, because of my illness, all his plans will be confused.

Like a silent movie, shots from the past flashed before my eyes. When I gave birth to Nikita, I lost a lot of blood and strength. I tried not to become limp, I was glad that, no matter what, everything was in order with my son. After giving birth, she lay very weak, and, apparently from impotence, terribly wanted something sweet. I called Igor to say that we had another son, he did not know yet, and, at the same time, asked him to bring me a pack of ordinary shortbread cookies along with my things. But he didn’t bring it. He didn't come at all. Rather, I arrived only the next day in the evening. He brought my things, and when I asked why he hadn’t come for so long and why he hadn’t brought cookies - Igor got angry, they say, he already has a lot of problems, and Andryushka is now on him, and here I am with my whims …. Believe it or not, I couldn't forget these cookies for many years.

So I imagined how I would get sick now, even die, and he would be angry that all this was not at the right time. And I felt so sick! It is better to swallow the poison and die right away than to endure such an attitude. But I endured it all my life. Why did I endure? This thought just stunned me. Before, I have not seen any other options - after all, we have a family! And now I suddenly saw clearly that my family is children, and with Igor we are two strangers and very different people. Perhaps, once there was something between us, but now - everyone is on his own. It seems like we have a family - and I live as if I'm all alone. Maybe he too? He does not give me anything that I would like to receive from my husband, but maybe I am not giving him anything either? How, when could this have happened?

With these difficult experiences, I put the children to bed, and with them I fell asleep myself. At night I had an amazing dream. I stood in a narrow dark space between the walls of two high-rise buildings. There were some women nearby, it seems my mother and mother-in-law, but I did not see them, I just felt that we were all standing here together. Some of them told me:

“You've got bullets in your head. Unexploded bullets. They can explode at any moment. Wait and don't move until we figure out what to do about it. But what to do and how is not yet clear. Most importantly, don't move.

I nodded obediently. She looked up - there was a clear blue sky in the crevice of houses. And the sun is like in a well. I looked at it and took a few steps towards him.

- Where are you going?! Do not move! - I heard voices behind.

- It's a strange thing - I thought. - Unexploded bullets. Even if I don't move, how can they help me? After all, you cannot get them. And if you can't get them, then why should I wait? What good is standing and not moving if any of these bullets can explode at any moment. I wonder how it is? - In a dream, I was not scared either. I just reasoned without much emotion or feeling. The sun above me was moving somewhere to the side, and was about to disappear from sight, I slowly began to follow him, not taking my eyes off him. The same shouts were heard behind. But that didn't bother me. The sun was beautiful. With careful small steps, I left the narrow space between the houses and found myself somewhere outside the city. Magnificent open area - slopes, trees, blue sky goes to infinity. Warm golden autumn. The sun is shining so sweetly. And it does not blind your eyes, you can calmly look at it. And I look. And I follow him. Now a male voice shouted after me: “Stop! You can't move! You will die! Where are you going?! Stop!"

“What's the use of standing? - I continue to argue, not paying attention to the exclamations, and they gradually disappear. - Bullets can explode at any moment. Even if only one bullet explodes, I will die immediately. I won't even feel the explosion. I just won't be there anymore. Nowhere. Never. And no one can influence this. Nothing can be done. But the sun is so gentle, and it is so good for me to follow it! You know, right in a dream, I physically felt such an extraordinary lightness! I haven't felt this way in months. It was like wings had grown behind my back, and I was about to fly over this magnificent nature straight to the sun. I felt happy. The present. It filled me all over. I quietly began to spin. I was light, airy, happy … And free. I was free from everything.

“An amazing dream,” I said.

- Yes. Such dreams are not forgotten. He turned my life around. I woke up different. I thought - what should I expect? I'm going to die anyway. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a month or a few years, or maybe I'll live another fifteen years - what, in essence, is the difference? Why wait for this and be afraid to move? After all, I actually live in a narrow space of a well, locked in the framework of some norms, rules, ideas about what a good mother and wife should be. I forgot all my dreams. I forgot what I like and what I don't. Me, not my husband, not my children - me myself! I am waiting for death as deliverance. I was delighted with her imminent approach, because she would destroy everything, and my life, like this, ridiculous, uninteresting, meaningless, in which there is no real me, in which my essence is buried like in a crypt. I died spiritually in this life. Therefore, physical death does not scare me. The worst thing has already happened - I myself disappeared.

- Anya, - I asked cautiously, when there was a pause, - and the children? Didn't you think about them at all when you wanted to die?

“I know it sounds crazy, but I was sure that I gave almost nothing to my children, except for an example of humble despondency. I was very sorry to part with them, but I thought that Igor and his mother would be able to raise them without me. They are smart, educated, they love Andryushka and Nikita very much, they will not leave them, they will not leave them unattended.

- It sounds so sad.

- Sad. It was sad until the very moment when I had this dream. That Saturday morning, looking around my frightened, gloomy kingdom, I literally shook my sons out of bed.

- Have a quick breakfast and go to the center. I will show you a Moscow that you have never seen before!

- Why is that? - Igor grumbled, - I actually planned to sleep off today.

- Well, please, - I answered him surprisingly easily, - sleep well! Only the one who wants rides.

- I want!

- And I! - Nikita even jumped for joy.

We had an amazing day. They walked, laughed, ran a race, ate ice cream, but most importantly, they talked incessantly. I showed the boys the Moscow of my childhood. As if she was there again - cheerful, happy, with a heap of desires, feelings and plans for the future. And no fears. No framework. No conventions.

Already returning home, I realized that everything had changed. Thoughts rushed with great speed. That which yesterday could not even have entered my head, today flew in there, burst in, filled my whole being, unfolded in the smallest details and details.

I sold a small apartment on Patriarch's, which I got from my grandmother (before that Igor and I rented it out) and instead bought a more spacious one in one of the sleeping areas. The remaining amount was deposited into an account with interest. She moved with the boys to a new apartment and filed for divorce.

- Anya, did you really file for divorce at the very moment when you were diagnosed with a tumor ?! You knew you could die! Usually, in such a situation, people, on the contrary, are looking for support, looking for those who could help them, support. And these are usually family members. I do not understand…. How so?! What moved you?

- A life. - She said how Anya cut and looked me straight in the eyes. - Cheerfully walking with my boys along Nikolskaya Street, I suddenly realized that I was living. I chose life. Understand? And in order to survive, I needed strength - moral and physical. But Igor could not give them to me. On the contrary, he took the last away from me, persistently trying to make of me what I really was not.

- But you could talk to him, explain the situation, tell what you really want.

- If I were healthy, I probably should have done so. After all, it is stupid to blame Igor for everything - in the end, I myself allowed myself to treat myself that way. But I was exhausted. In all senses. Literally. I realized that I could not resist, that I didn’t have the strength to fight him either. I realized that I did not have enough strength to save our relationship. At that moment, I needed to save myself. It's like on an airplane: "… if you are traveling with a child, put on an oxygen mask first on yourself, then on the child." The child, in our case, is our relationship. If I had not saved myself, then this relationship simply would not have been with anyone to build. Igor was my main irritant at the time. He pressed on me, did not let me breathe, surrounding me with his rules and principles. And I needed freedom. Complete freedom to find your hidden reserves, to turn on the will, to regain self-confidence. I couldn't wait for him to find the time to give me the takeout. I had a tumor. And there was no more time. In short, I left him to survive.

I was silent for a long time. Anya's words sounded in her head. I imagined how she felt and how she felt then. And yet I could not understand.

- It was bad for you - it is. You needed reserves, I understand. But divorce? Anya, is this divorce so simple? Divorce is exhausting even healthy people, this is one of the most difficult tests.

- I know that the word "divorce" resonates with you with a variety of very painful stories that you have come across. But the very fact of divorce did not scare me. It hurts people because for them divorce is a ruin. And for me, the divorce was not a failure, it was a salvation. 18 years of marriage and two wonderful sons - this is an excellent result, I decided, a result that we both can be proud of. Meanwhile, Igor and I became very different, we grew out of each other and, perhaps, began to slow down each other, interfere with each other's development. So why couldn't we just let each other go? Why not stop torturing each other? Why was it impossible to come to an agreement calmly, in an adult way? Why not treat each other with respect? I, for sure, also did not suit him with something more, offended him with my closeness or something else …

It hurt a lot as long as I still doubt. I still hoped … I hoped that I was not indifferent to him, that he, too, would start doing something for us, for me. But as soon as I made a decision, everything changed. I felt completely different. I clearly realized that I was not losing anything. My family is sons. And they are also Igor's family. But neither I nor Igor are obliged to be each other's family. We don't owe each other anything.

- And he just let you go?

- No, it's not easy. Everything was - both reproaches and insults. "Who needs you like that ?!", "Look at yourself, you won't live a day without me!" "With age, your head became completely ill." And much more. Sounds like the exclamations in my dream, doesn't it? His male pride was wounded. I didn't react to his attacks. I felt sorry for him. But my life was dearer to me. Basically, he had no choice. My decision was firm. And thoughtful. I outlined my position, my conditions and clearly followed the plan.

- Did you tell him about the tumor?

- No. I was scared that this might be a reason to take my children away from me. I told only one of my friends, so that if something happens, she can help me with the children. But that was not required. Everything started spinning somehow: the divorce process, the establishment of a new way of life, constant communication with the children (I tried to do everything so that they did not feel abandoned), the work, which became more, because now I myself supported myself and the children. Then I was offered to give lectures on the history of art in one of the historical clubs, I happily took up this. So a year passed. My former classmate, remembering that I was fond of Moscow, invited me to her excursion bureau. At that moment, I finally parted with the accounting department. I worked as a guide, and there was an opportunity to travel to Europe - my dream came true - I saw many world masterpieces with my own eyes. And then one day returning from Rome, I realized that my life is full and beautiful. And then I only (can you imagine ?!) remembered that a lot of time had passed, and I had not undergone additional examination, and had not begun any treatment. I decided to get rid of my tumor by all means. I went to the doctor again, underwent examination three times, but there was no tumor. No trace. I was completely healthy.

She fell silent. There was silence. I didn't know what to say.

What to say to a person who, having heard the word "death", realized that he had already died, and having realized this, found the courage to admit that he had killed himself? What to say to a person who turned out to be on the other side, and looking at his life from there, from eternal silence and silence, found the strength to resurrect, like a Phoenix bird, rose from the ashes, carrying amazing warmth and love into the world? I didn't know what to say.

I replayed this story over and over in my head, and Anya sat next to me on the bench, looked somewhere into the distance and smiled. She smiled so warmly and comfortably - the river that was in front of us, and the ducks that swam at the very bank of the river, the seagulls that circled above the water, and the evening sun, so golden and tender.

“Anya,” I finally said, “maybe it’s not so, but… it seems to me that your tumor was one of the options for suicide. I know it sounds strange, but everything that you described: your feelings, your hopelessness, some kind of hopelessness, endless loneliness - all this is characteristic of people close to suicide. Only you could not decide to commit suicide - you were too correct, there was no place for suicide in your coordinate system. - I turned to Anya, she looked at me with curiosity.

- And you began to kill your body in a different way, in such a way that could cause bewilderment, pity, but not condemnation - I continued. - You seemed to be on the highest cornice for some important business, stood on it, looked at the world around you and … at the last moment chose life.

- Maybe you're right.

- What do you think - the bullets in your head are a tumor?

- I think no. Bullets are my hidden, immured feelings and emotions. These are my dreams, which I have forgotten. But I set them free. I accepted them. And there is nothing more to explode. Freedom! Now I am full of happiness. This is true.

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