One day I woke up to the warm slanting rays of sunshine that streamed through my window. The sweat from my forehead had soaked the pillow bringing an end to a bizarre and muddled dream. It was evident that I had been restless in my sleep as the fitted sheets on my bed were loose and wrinkled. My body must have tossed and turned dramatically throughout the nightmare. I took my damp shirt off, patted the sweat away from my forehead, and threw it to the corner of the room with an audible Splat. I stared into space sitting on the bed, nothing had come to my mind. Blank. The room stood still. I had no recollection of the room I was in upon waking, strange, disturbing noises floated in the window from the street outside and a moment later my memory caught back up to me.
I made my way to the kitchen to find Marija, my housemate from Dubrovnik, had prepared our breakfast. My heart bled for her. She always took good care of me. It was impossible to forget the night we had met playing pool at the hostel. She was clueless about the game. I walked over to her and gave her some advice on how to line up the long wooden cue between her thin fingers."Don't be alarmed if I touch you" I said to her as she gave out a nervous laughter. I positioned her hand on the green cloth gently and helped her to lower her back to get a better angle to aim more accurately to hit the white ball and she took a jab at number nine. She pocketed the yellow and she jumped with enthusiasm. Since that moment, we have become fast friends and much more. She opened up to me on a clear evening with a bottle of red wine between us on the front porch and said that she had mixed feelings about our relationship. Our deep affection towards each other was troublesome and complicated. Marija always knew when I was disdainful in my misery or when I was gratified in life. In return, I gave her all the support she needed in a strange new country with excitement and fondness. Our relationship was solely pure; honest and clean. It was untouchable. It was true love and yet we had relationships with other people. It was obvious that she would eventually return home to her family and fall back into the arms of her boyfriend in Croatia after her work visa was finished in Canada. She did not want me to tangle her plans.
Marija set the bowl on the table. It was filled with various kinds of fruit with yogurt. She reached over to me and gave me a soft kiss on the side of my cheek. Her perfume was strong but pleasant with a light, floral aroma. There were slices of apples, bananas, grapes, oranges, and strawberries. I bit into the pieces one by one and its sweet juicy flavour squirted into my mouth followed by a gulp of black coffee. My self-esteem improved and the troubled nightmare was forgotten. I felt better about myself and planned to not let my depression interfere with the simple joys of life. Marija began to clean the dishes after we had finished breakfast. I slowly walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. She did not hesitate or make any sudden moves when I kissed her on the back of the neck. She tilted her head sideways and we made eye contact with a little smile. It was painfully difficult to let go of her but I knew I had to. I turned away, climbing up the squeaking, wooden, narrow staircase that led me back into my bedroom in the attic while she finished washing the tableware.
My right thumb swiped up and down on the cracked screen of the phone, observing the images on Facebook and Instagram. By appearance, everyone was living a life of happiness and elation. It was all fake to me. What was the true story behind their photos I had wondered with curiosity. The truth will always be hidden and their sadness and struggles will never be revealed. Nothing is perfect. Life was never meant to be perfect. I hit the blue thumb or pink heart to show some appreciation for my friend's photos. It was the only way to keep in touch with people that I have crossed paths during my travels. The like button can be very disturbing, It has created a growing concern for mental problems. Social media has lost its purpose and become very dangerous. Our new reality; most people in this day and age or business cannot survive without the existence of the platforms. Marija had shown me a way to live in the current moment and be careless of people's reaction to my page or postings." Live in the now" She would say."Keep certain photos and options to yourself. There is no need to post everything".
Marija never had a social media account. She only needed Hotmail and FaceTime to reach out to her loved ones and that was enough. She was always content without the world's social judgments or emojis.
After an hour we decided to go out for some fresh air and take a stroll through the Trinity Bellwoods park. It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was shining, the gorgeous celestial butterflies with red and orange admiral wings landed on the flowers that were blooming in the early spring and the birdsongs drifted through the air around us. One minute I was depressed looking at my phone, thumbing up the wormhole on a cracked screen and then the next minute, I felt better and saw the world differently with Marija walking beside me with her arm wrapped around mine. I remarked that her accent had reminded me of a beautiful Russian girl in one of the James Bond films; Olga Kurilenko. Marija cheeks blushed pink and held me tighter. We entered a store and brought some food to cook up a nice meal with a bottle of wine that was waiting for us at home. The middle-aged lady at the counter had overcharged us for the pasta and the price did not match when it flashed on the screen, "Lady, the fargalle price is wrong, it says four dollars on the shelf. You have charged us six-fifty." She looked at me sourly."That was yesterday's price" she said acidly.
"Well, it says four dollars on the shelf and we are going to pay four dollars," I said harshly.
Marija told me to let it go, but I couldn't. There was a nasty hairy wart on the lady's cheek, just below the left eyelid. However, I tried to refuse to pay the overly charged price with claims of how the madame was taking advantage of two young people. We were just making ends meet. Marija got angry with me as I raised my voice for everyone to hear and she finally told me to shut up and paid the bill in full, letting the lady win the battle.
"Why did you do that to me?" She asked crossly with her arm folded in front of me. We had not said a word to each other since we had left the store and I felt her anger in silence.
"I won't let anyone take advantage of me or you. I will not have it. You're my girl"
I explained to her calmly. She looked at me with a clenched jaw and intense eye contact followed by her thin furrowed brows. "You don't need to protect me or embarrass me. That was not cool what you did. I am not your girl if you must know!" I was angry with her last words.
"You tell me that you love me! You kiss me when you want. You sleep with me when you NEED it! And then you say to me that you're not my girl!... Make up your freaking mind and don't play me BONDI!" I yelled at her.
I picked up the bow-tied pasta box from the plastic bag and threw it as hard as I could across the room, hitting the wall behind her and splitting open the box. The pasta scattered across the floor. I stormed out from the living room, pulling out a cigarette from my pocket I went out the front door and headed down the street to the nearest bar I could find.
It was late when I returned to the house and my other two housemates were asleep. There was enough light for me to make it up to the attic. I was still upset with Marija's final twitch; the beers did not improve my mood. The air was cool in the room. I got underdressed and decided to go to bed. Shortly after I got comfortable, the door opened and Marija tip-toed towards me. I could not see her, as the room was dark, but I knew it was her. She slid under the blanket, laid her arm across my chest, and said to me in a low soft voice, "I do love you in my special way." I kissed her forehead without a word; Love is only an antidote and life is messy but that is what makes it beautiful...
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