Long story

Nobody cares. Unless you make them. I need a space to unwind, a space to be myself, to hear my voice, to make it come out and spew all that it's been holding back. I need it like air, I never realized. It's nice to have some place that doesn't judge you. 750words did not work for me. Maybe this will. Maybe it won't, who cares? It's a place for rants anyway. Here's the long story. No editing, just the raw thoughts and memories. I wrote at it for two days.

I want to keep up to my own challenge and write down the story that I love. I wanted to remember it somehow.

When I returned home, I found among all the papers that I brought back with me from the Czech Republic, a receipt from a pub. I kept it then because I wanted an example of how a receipt should look like (at the time I was searching for an affordable receipt printer and all I could find was extremely expensive, but I was still doing the research). I hadn't expected, at that moment, what would happen during that evening and following night and I hadn't expected it to become a souvenir from that night, the only souvenir, actually.

The story begins with this really lovely guy that I met at the beginning of my stay in the Czech Republic. I went (alone) to the International Ball that was organized for the international students because I didn't want to be really that non-social (I would never go clubbing in the clubs next to the dorms because the music was shitty and the atmosphere sucked and the beer was boring). But my friends were either really tired from a trip they had gone on the same day, or making lentil soup in their dorm room and had started to work on it at 10 o'clock in the evening. Ah well, you can't leave your lentil soup waiting until morning, can you? Actually, you can and you should, but that's a different discussion.

I was alone there and met with my Erasmus buddy and her best friend. They were nice enough to take me around with them and introduce me to some people who completely ignored me, but what can I say, I'm really not that interesting. They would go on really long cigarette breaks really often, so I was left on my own for most of the time, anyway. I'm used to being alone in places, so that wasn't really a problem. I got myself a beer and, after voluntarily taking part in a really embarrassing "energizer" (well, for most participants anyway, nobody actually knew me around there, so why should I have cared?), I decided it was best to stay on the sideline and just study people. I tried to 'mingle', but it didn't work. I was still being ignored, so there was nothing I could do except sit there and watch. I got myself another beer, even though I usually never drink more than one, but this was not a usual situation and I was bored. There was a live band playing, some kids trying to sound all grown up and musically gifted. They were ok, but their music was nothing to dance to.

I was moving around the dance floor, going in and out of the ballroom, looking around, then I settled next to a table. It was pretty late and I was so bored, that when a guy came around and asked me to dance, I had no intention of refusing him. We danced a little, he was a bit puffy and a bit sweaty and had drunk a bit too much for my usual liking (since this wasn't a usual setting, I didn't care), but he could move and he was relaxed and we laughed. He got me another beer (I'm tired of refusing guys who want to buy me stuff - you want to do it, see if I care, but don't expect me to anything just because you got me a beer) and it was soon time for the ticket raffle. Since the tickets had been a bit expensive and the food that came with them was a bit lame (I appreciated the effort, but a lot of effort does not good food make), it was a nice thing that the prizes were quite substantial. All of us had numbers on our bracelets, so we kept glancing at our wrists while the presenter was shouting out names.

I wasn't expecting anything. I mean, what could you on such a drab evening? And that's why the surprise of me winning a voucher for a dinner at a nearby restaurant was really sweet. V (the Czech guy who had asked me dancing) was next to me, hoping to win something himself, but he was just close. Ah, yes, I didn't tell you he was Czech and his English not the most excellent. But what do you need English for dancing? So we continued dancing on some of my favorite tunes that kept on entertaining us that night. We talked about dancing and the dance classes for international students that had started a few weeks before. We decided that we could learn a bit more about dancing and that he would make a nice dance partner. It was quite nice until I felt too tired to move, so I made to go home. V accompanied me to the dorms, even though he would have to walk twice as much until he got home.

In front of the dorms I could only hug him and say good night.

We had connected on Facebook to keep in touch and talk about the dance classes. We decided we would go, but I wanted to tell him that I had no intentions whatsoever. I couldn't start something that I knew would end in a broken heart (for either or both of us) when I had to go home, I'm not the sort of person to start something that I know will end abruptly because of reasons that are quite foreseeable (me having to go back to my home country), unless I'm really caught up in feelings and stop caring about anything except this person in front of me. It was not the case. I was not really attracted to this guy, I had only met him a few days before, I wasn't about to go flying to the moon with him (looking back, I do find it quite cute that he just wrote to me that he understands and would be patient).

So we started going to the dance classes, every Tuesday evening at 7. The class would start almost at 8, but it was scheduled at 7, so we were on time and spent that extra awkward hour talking about lame stuff and sitting in a not really comfortable position in a chair that was a bit too small (him) or prancing about, 'warming up' (me). I would sometimes sit on the chair on my knees, looking out at the crazy huge pigeons that I miss so much (they were very large, but very elegant and beautiful and they would always be in pairs). We would talk about his rugby trainings (he had just started going to his training sessions again and in a few weeks I could see the difference), my foot pain (I still have no idea why my feet hurt once in a while, but at the time I would have cramps for days on end and I kept on dancing, despite the pain), his mom and the present he had bought her for her birthday (and the one that he had brought himself), my bead crochet (at some point I started bringing some beads on a string with me, to pass the time during that hour, I think sometime in April), books (his fantasy books and my children's books that I had gotten in an antique shop, full of funny and creepy stories that made him blush) and some other topics that I might remember if I tried hard enough.

The dance classes were lovely. The teachers were a pair of dancers who organize different events in Ostrava and they're young, energetic and passionate. I loved learning from them, even for that one hour and a half a week that we had with them. We had a lot of fun, laughing like crazy when we had to do something that seemed out of this world. Since we only had a few hours to learn many kinds of dances, we wouldn't practice the basic steps too much and we would get to more and more complicated step combinations. It was hard work, but I loved it and I felt so good, despite the pain in my feet, that I will remember those precious hours for the rest of my life with a smile upon my face.

We learned salsa (not sure which kind, but it really doesn't matter), samba, waltz (Viennese and English), merengue, bachata (actually, we just tripped while 'dancing' bachata, it's trickier than it looks), cha-cha-cha, rumba, jive and who knows what else. Oh right, argentine tango (haha, that wasn't tango, but you can't learn how to dance tango in 15 minutes). Of course, we only learned a bit of each and we could barely keep up with the rhythm (actually, he couldn't keep up with it, but we just worked with what we had).

After the dance classes, he would always say he was thirsty. After the first class we went to, he asked me what we should do. I didn't know, he was the local, so I let him choose. I let him take me wherever he wanted and he did not disappoint. We went to a local-oriented, obscure, underground bar in Poruba, quite close to the dorms, in the cellar of a block of flats. What was special about this place was the beer. They would bring beer from all around the Moravian region and beyond, having a maximum of six specials per night. When one kind ran out, they would open a barrel of a different kind of beer and change the specials list. My first beer there was one of the best I have ever tasted (I had one that was better, a few years ago, but guess what, it was also Czech). It was unfiltered, light and rich at the same time. That place instantly became my favorite place in Ostrava and for good reason. We returned a few times and every time the beer was something to enjoy thoroughly.

The funny thing is that when I was younger, I didn't like beer. No wonder I didn't like it, most Romanian beers taste like piss in comparison. They're bitter, bland and they look like yellow water. Now I do like it, but just like wine, I can't drink any shitty kind of it. I don't drink for the alcohol, I drink for the experience of wholeness that a good beer or a good wine can bring (color and transparency, thickness, flow, foam or bubbling, texture, taste, bouquet - smells that unfold as you taste, play with and then swallow a bit of the liquid). And this place has given me so many nice experiences.

On our second visit to Kurnik Sopa Hospoda, I learned how to count beyond 10 in Czech. It wasn't easy, but it was fun. We would draw and write on my notebook and sit close because there were many people and it was difficult to hear one another. Some other time we explored the map of the Czech Republic, talking about my planned trips and what's to see in the region, his grandma's cottage in a village that wasn't so close, some experiences that we've had abroad.

It was so fascinating to discover this person who was so complex and dedicated, so many things hidden from a first glance and even from many glances. I learned about rugby and decided to go to his team's match and I did. To three of them. In one of which he even played while it did not rain (that was one big win - crushing the other team with a score of around 70-0 and winning the cup for their league).

In one of our evenings out for beer, after the dance class, I decided that I should invite him to the restaurant dinner I had won at the raffle. What should I have done with the voucher? Ask one of the girls out for dinner in a Czech restaurant? It didn't feel right. So I invited him.

Besides the fact that I made him wait for one hour before we met to go to the restaurant, it was quite nice (it wasn't my fault that they cut the power in all the dorms for a few hours and I had no way to reach him and had no idea where he was because he had not given me a time and place for meeting before leaving home, but I still felt bad, even though I was the one running about between dorms in search of a bit of wireless internet that was working - no luck there).

We even used my dictionary (we would often use my dictionary for me to learn new words in Czech and him to learn new words in English). My portion was twice as much as I needed (I had chicken with a white sauce with mushrooms and blue cheese and... fries), so I had to take half of it with me in a box. On our way back to the dorm I managed to spill half the contents of the box into my backpack while jumping like a crazy kid because I was excited for some reason. That was not cool and I felt really stupid, but what I really like about V is that he never judged me. I felt safe to act stupid and take responsibility for my actions and fix what I had ruined (well, my leather Kindle cover can't be fixed, really, but at least I cleaned the Kindle itself, which got a bit of white sauce in the button holes...).

After the dance classes were over (they only lasted until the end of April), we would meet once in a while to go for a walk. One evening, after I had been the whole day on a trip to Koprivnice and the nearby lake and Hukvaldy castle, all red and literally giving off heat from my sun burnt sking, he asked me out. He just said "I want to take you out to dinner". I thought that was so funny. I'm not a 'fancy dinner' person, but I can't say no to someone so busy who has carved some time (a.k.a. didn't go to work that evening) especially for me. But since I'm really not a fancy dinner person, we couldn't do a fancy dinner, so we decided it would be pizza. Too bad it was Friday evening on a warm, late spring day, so all the places were full of people. So we had to walk for a while to get to a place that makes good pizza and was not full of people. Since I had been walking up and down hills the whole day, my feet were not so up to the challenge, so after a barefoot stroll through some freshly cut grass, we decided we would make better time by taking a tram. The trams in Ostrava are so lovely and well organized, that it was a breeze getting to our destination. We waited outside on a bench until our pizzas were done and we got so caught up in our conversation that he didn't even hear his phone ringing, for us to go and pick up our food. Finally, we settled on a bench next to a pond that was full of frogs, surrounded by tall trees full of bats. I was burning, the pizza was getting cold, the wind was also getting cold, the sun was setting and darkness was creeping in, the frogs were singing and he was there, next to me, a bit shy while both of us knew what we were feeling, but couldn't just express it...

I think I'll finish this story tomorrow. There's still so much left to write and I don't want to spend the whole day writing, even though it brings me so much joy, just remembering all of those moments that made my Erasmus trip so memorable. I'm so thankful for the chance to get to know this wonderful person, but I'm still caught in some kind of limbo. There are no regrets, just the weird feeling gripping at my insides when I know that I might never have the chance to hug him or touch his soft skin and make him giggle and show me that lovely smile of his.

Two days later I picked it up and finished:

Where was I? Right, I left it that lovely evening that I was burning up from all the sun that I had absorbed during the day, while shivering because of the cold wind and the thin dress that I was wearing. We returned to the dorm and I changed into something warmer (and completely devoid of any interesting detail) and we even went by Maciek's bye-bye party that he gave that same evening and I had said that I would participate, so I had to make my presence known. It was odd, our trip inside the dorm that evening. It was, I believe, the first time that he had been in my room. It wasn't tidy and there were beads everywhere (obviously). I showed him my necklaces (most of them weren't finished back then, they were just ropes of beads) and I let him alone in my room for a while. I'm not sure what he did in there, he must have felt a bit off. It was the same one floor below, at the party site, where everyone was overly expressive and partly drunk (it was a Friday, so the party would move to someplace on Stodolni, as always). He sat almost in the corner, while I did my rounds as quick as I could, refusing a drink here and one there from the very well meaning Polish girls. Think about it, I didn't even know their names. And it was their bye-bye party. And they were around all the time in my duplex. I just didn't really like them. Neither did he, it seemed like it, but he was there with me and had to play his part (he probably thought that turning into a wall was his part. oh well). After a maximum of 5 minutes spent in that intoxicating and extremely loud and bright atmosphere (my memories of that place are like overly exposed photographs. oh wait, there are also overly exposed photographs from that evening) and a minimum of 15 group pictures (in which I did not take part), we said our good nights and got out of there. There were still guys going to the party. I was just glad that I was with V and the party was not in our duplex.

We went for a beer. Literally one beer, I didn't want anything, I was way too tired to want anything and I was content just to look at him smiling and tell him silly stories. He usually talked and I listened, but sometimes I would be ranting about one thing or the other. I don't like myself ranting, so I would coerce myself into listening. I don't like to intrude upon people's ears and brains and time. I have no idea what we talked about, I just remember my butterflies (in the stomach, yes! not the ones in my workshop) and his smile and the fact that he tried to kiss me before going home for the night and the fact that I didn't let him. I was still thinking that I didn't want anything, even though it was quite obvious that I did want.

I'm a grown woman and can control myself (I've learned this the hard way), so I can say no, even when my whole being wants to say yes. That was the first time. The second time was when he had to go to work, after we had met in the morning and had gone on a really long walk around Poruba, exploring parks and a cemetery, the river and some streets, in the search for my bead shop. We also found a cherry tree on that day, but the cherries were green. Still, they were within reach and I had to have one. After all, cherries!! I love cherries. And he was nice enough to pick some for me and help me pick some myself, because he's lovely that way.

Of course, I had to say no (not literally say no, just shake my head) the second time as well. We were on the street, full daylight, no privacy. That is not my idea of an ideal first kiss. And I'm all for ideal first kisses (most of them have not been ideal, but I do remember them all and I would rather remember a really nice moment than a meh one). But the third time... nobody could say no the third time.

We went for a walk that evening. Our pub was full of people and, even though it wasn't dark yet, the terrace was closed. That's the law in the Czech Republic. No drinking outside after 9 o'clock in the evening. It makes sense, somewhat. So we had to search for another place. We had a bit of a walk through new places for me, behind the tram depot, by some weird buildings. We found pub that wasn't so full and got in. We had an unfiltered beer each, and he got himself a nice Czech meal (huge portions of everything). I only remember the really salty potatoes that looked like the ones my grandma would make on the stove in the countryside, except with tone of chunky salt. I finished crocheting my necklace (the first one in thin cotton string, gold with black) and we left. I took the receipt. Before getting out of the pub (which had on display various items of torture, including a spiky coffin), I took his hand. I don' remember exactly why, but it was such a natural thing to do.

It was chilly outside. We tried to walk side by side, arm in arm, but it just wasn't working. He had his backpack on and it just didn't work. We went by the cherry tree. Just a few days had passed since the last (and first) time we'd passed it, but we found a few almost ripe cherries. Their flavor was so rich and sweet. We walked a bit more, both knowing what was going on inside the others head. I just could make up my mind. We stopped and hugged. That was a long hug. I couldn't and wouldn't let go. I took off my glasses. Hugging a person a head taller than you with glasses on is a recipe for face bruises and bent glasses. It was dark where we had stopped, next to a small park, behind an old building, close to the tram station on the other side of the building. A person went by. Minutes went by. I had to surrender, there was no other way I was getting out of there. I was feeling dizzy, light, my head was floating, I was so high that I even got a bit sick. Such intense feelings are best reserved for when you are: rested, hydrated and generally in good physical shape. I was neither. But that doesn't mean that I'll ever forget that evening. Well, that was just the beginning. We went back to my dorm room because why the hell not, I'm a grown person and so is he and there's nothing wrong in sleeping with your arms around a dear person's fluffy, but discretely muscular body. Even though it was going to be a one of a kind experience and I only had three (or two? who knows? oh, i know, i have the little paper) weeks to enjoy it. Sometimes the best experiences come in small doses.

After that evening, we had time for just a few more experiences together. My favorite is the walk in the little forest next to the dorms. We got bitten by a gazillion mosquitoes and I had a box full of ripe cherries that I wanted to share with him. So he took all the bites, then we walked on, by the gigantic outdoor swimming pool that we didn't actually get to enjoy. He showed me where he lived on a local map, then took me an old shop where he used to buy tiny ice-creams as a kid and we each got one. It was divine. Not only because he was there with me, smiling his most precious smile, but because it was actually good ice-cream. The sun was scorching hot and we had left the shade of the cool green forest. He told me something that I'd never forget. "You have a big heart." "How do you know that?" "I just do". And that's it. We were walking down a narrow, grassy path between two gardens with old people tending some of their plants. The thin wire fence surrounding the gardens created a feeling of a confined, green space. We walked by the tram lines, down the main street in Poruba, Hlavni Trida, a street that I ended up knowing like the back of my hand. I wanted to find a present for my friend who loves food and the German language. We went to the antique store right next to the main street, a crammed little space full of books. My heart melted when he told me he had a favorite antique store there in Poruba. It was this shop, the one that I had discovered during one of my first trips in the neighborhood in February. He brought me some library stairs and I managed to drop a few books on his head and break his nose a little bit. He was used to it, though, what with all the rugby. I felt bad, but also so happy to have someone who loves books next to me, even though it was our last time together before the departure. He held the stairs for me, even though he didn't have to. He was sweet like that, which makes it even sadder to know that I had this person so close to me for so long, yet couldn't appreciate all that he was. I hadn't known. I loved him even more for that. I still do. He'll be in my heart forever, for everything that he is and everything that he did and all the lovely moments we spent together. For the walks, the beers, for the cherries and the kisses, for the hugs and all the dances he gave me and for all those cheeky smiles. I hadn't expected him to make it to the train station before we departed. I was so excited that he was there that I forgot to cry...