The invitation is not for me/Приглашение не для меня - стр. 12

"What?"

Andrew didn't seem to believe what he was hearing. He stepped even closer, and I took another step back. But there was nowhere else to retreat: there was a windowsill behind me, and I leaned against it.

"Go away at once!" I commanded.

I needed to think. I had to think about what had happened. Right now, the men around me were just getting in the way. I felt like I was being used and brainwashed, so I wouldn't understand.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Yes!"

I jumped out of my seat and pushed him out the door. It was only after I had locked the door that I could finally cry, sinking to the floor in the hallway.

If you think the worst thing in your life has already happened, you have to wait a little longer to see how wrong you are. As I wiped tears from my cheeks, sitting on the floor in the hallway, thinking about how betrayal was the worst thing in my life. Just yesterday I had a family and a loved one, and today I'm alone in an empty apartment.

Realizing that I am terribly afraid of loneliness, a titanic effort decided not to forgive. I'd rather immerse myself in work – there's always something to do at school. I'll take another class, start leading a club, and forget Alex.

I started to pack his things so that I wouldn't change my mind. I brought garbage bags from the kitchen (I couldn't give him his brand-new suitcase!) and began to empty his closet. Somewhere I read that this is a necessary stage in the breakup, they say, then it will be easier. Well, it's all lies!

I was ready to get hysterical over every shirt. There were memories associated with all of them. If memory could be formatted like a hard drive, I would have done it.

I couldn't even get half of it done, and I fell asleep in the middle of the mess.

In the morning, I felt even worse than yesterday. My leg hurt even worse, my face was swollen, and my eyes were puffy. I couldn't go to work tomorrow in such a state; I'd better tell them I was sick and take a few days off. I didn't want to sit alone in the apartment, but it was better that way than to catch the interested looks of my colleagues and listen to their whispers. At the same time, I remembered my phone, which I hadn't even seen yesterday. It was left in the bag brought by Andrew, and I had completely forgotten about it. It took a decent amount of time to find the phone. The apartment was a mess.

After rewarding myself with another sandwich, I checked the contents of the bag. Nothing seemed to be missing, but it felt like it had been rummaged through. Probably Andrew was looking for my ID to get my address. But my phone surprised me: it had zero battery life. I realized the reason as soon as I turned it on: I had never had so many calls in one day. Everyone called: friends, colleagues, acquaintances. The messages in messengers were no less mysterious: "Wow!", "What happened?", "Well, you're crazy, friend!", and the "icing on the cake" was a message from the principal about the call to the pedagogical council, the reason for which should be my unworthy behavior.