Fully Broken by Georgij Oroschakoff

“I know you will think I am crazy but I have felt this way for a long time”, she says, and the words hover between us, slowly mixing with the thick smoke of our cigarettes.
The scene reminded me a little of those old fairytales I used to read, where thick fog often acted as the herald of magical or unexplainable things, usually opening a new chapter in the life of the righteous but mistreated hero.

“I know that one day I will marry you”. The sentence is spoken without even the slightest trace of a question and the complete seriousness and confidence in the truth of her statement suffocates any possible panic or laughter. It is as unfunny or as disturbing as if I were to tell you that today is a Thursday or that my hair is brown. I nod my head, once, twice, take a slow drag of my cigarette and say the only thing that I feel is right,
“I know”.

I have not forgotten these words she said to me the last time I saw her in Berlin. I did love her and treasured her emotions, was proud to have achieved such a commitment, but I took them for granted, roaming around mindlessly like a child continuously dropping his favourite toy. I knew that I just had been told something important, maybe the most important thing in my life, but was easily distracted. A butterfly hopping from plant to plant, mesmerized by the colours and shapes created with each flap of its wings. My heart was hers while my mind was lost.

I am alone and it is not even a sad “Why me?” realisation. It has the same genuineness to it as her statement did and again it is impossible for me to ignore the truth. She, who’s sincerity and depth has always calmed my rather unstable and jumpy personality, has left what I believed was impenetrable and I do not have the right to question her why. Her strength was the anchor protecting me in the middle of crashing storms and her apparent knowledge of the future acted as a lighthouse in my life, a point of orientation and often the only thing capable of bringing sense into what had become meaningless.

I am sitting in the dark and memories pour uncontrollably out of my mind, only to find themselves dropping helplessly unto the floor in the form of tears, soaked up by a dirty rug and soon forgotten. I need her and her remembered taste and smell mocks my wits, bullying me into complete defeat, forcing me to retreat yet even further into the shameful existence that I have once held so highly.

I used her heart only to feel my own and my reckless, mindless behaviour left it behind shattered and bruised, only to be violated again on my next return until nothing was left that could be saved. She has left and I will stay.

A heartbreaker fully broken.