I was with my Russian. We were at a church setting, a gathering, but it was actually at the college I graduated from. There were many people there, and they started to talk about abortion. The people were going to show what abortion actually did the body of the fetus, but my Russian stole the doll from the speaker. He started to run away with it. I ran after him and was yelling at him, my attempt to persuade him to return the doll. I didn’t want him to get arrested for such a thing as stealing a doll. My Russian ignored me but a guard finally did stop him. The guard was standing on a deck that curved around sharply. The guard was holding a paper bag in his hands. The bag had a burger in it, and my Russian finally dropped the toy and he didn’t get arrested for petty theft.
I have a new boyfriend; well, by “new” I mean we have only been dating since August and therefore not a year yet. Still, the relationship is a good one. We have a lot in common. We are both foreigners, he is Russian while I am Romanian. I had one of my first dreams about him right after the New Year. In my blog, he will simply be called, “The Russian.”
We were discussing and arguing about our heritages and the uniqueness of each of them. I told him that I have to accept my Romanian side because I cannot run away from it. I cannot outsmart my past. I told him that he must act on the same impulse himself. He nodded at me in understanding.
I was attending a new university. I believe it was Western Washington University, and I was on a campus tour. The woman leading the tour was continuously discussing an “old” professor. By the way she was discussing him, I knew that he was dead and his death happened recently. I decided to ask the woman about him and inquired, “What had really happened to him?”
She explained to me that he had been fighting a custody battle for his three sons. He had unfortunately lost the battle and decided to commit suicide. He shot himself, but I am unclear in my dream as to if it was in his head or his heart.
While she was saying this, she was caught up in emotion. I could feel it spilling out of her, and it caught in my throat like a lump. I gasped at her, in shock of her telling me so blatantly. I then apologized and said that I shouldn’t have asked. She said it wasn’t a problem, but then she asked to be excused and rushed off to the restroom.
Library Photograph from Pixabay
Fake nails on keyboards
Tapping like crabs running on a rocky beach
Fingers racing in order to try beating time,
but time doesn’t care as it continues to count down
The worry begins to increase
Why did I wait for the last minute?
I had months to do this, but I doubted myself
I doubted my abilities and I waited until I almost forgot
Typing manically, I can’t stop until the words fall out
Onto the white sheet it will go
Until the lines are all filled
With my frustration and revenge
The revenge of myself, my apathy
My lack of self control and procrastination
Will my professor know of my laziness?
Will he smell the sweat on my paper as I turn it in?