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Adriana Mosoiu

I killed her. I did. Never claimed the opposite. I knew they’d search for me, I also knew they’d eventually find me. Still, I don’t regret it. What’s regretting, anyway? Just small lint in your eye, and you try to get rid of it.

Nope. I loved her till the end, till I had to make a choice. Our love was a deadly virus. It suffocated me, so I had to do something, I felt I couldn’t resist anymore. Me? Or her? Someone had to step out of this game, we were walking a one way street and I had enough of collisions. We used to be like two magnets drawing each other, now we couldn’t even see each other’s face. I couldn’t even stand the thought of her being closer than 100 miles. The feelings were mutual. In the beginning I was happy, thought she wasn’t afraid of me, afraid of her feelings for me. I thought I meant something to her. Stupid me, I was completely out of my mind. She never loved me, it was all just a war movie by the end of which the actors stand up from the trenches, remove the dust and go their ways.

Her hands never caressed my hair, my hands never touched her cheek, her belly, her knees. Her ankles have never been the first things I saw in the morning;
night was just a biological need. I loved her. And everything was just an illusion. We were the rabbits in the magician’s hat. The sets.

I managed to forget her, for a while. And I felt free. My lungs stood still in the thorax, my stomach didn’t give a start when I felt her smell, nights were compatible with my sleep, and days – though they weren’t exactly a yellow diamond string – they made sense. I was free and life was beautiful.

I was fooling myself. She was still living inside me, she was in every single fiber, in every single pore, she was in every single blood cell. It wasn’t me anymore, I was her, the absence of her. It was growing inside me and I wasn’t aware, it was a small wave coming closer. Wave after wave after wave, until it turned into a tsunami. I opened the window but this wasn’t the right solution. I don’t have suicide
skills. Not me, but the waves needed to disappear.

How did I do it? I was gentle to her. Didn’t shoot her, nor strangle her with the phone wire, I hate violence. A few grams of inhaled xenure could put you
to sleep and then send you to the Quiet Zone. I had her keys, so I entered and before she came in I sprayed the xenure on her cigarettes. Then I hid myself on the balcony and waited. After about an hour, she returned home. I was able to hear her walking, opening the refrigerator, the radio, lighting a cigarette, and then I heard the water flowing in the bathtub.

Oh, how I missed her! How badly did I want to kiss her wet skin, to lean my head on her shoulder, to kiss her teeth and her ribs and her ankles… What for? It wouldn’t be the same anyway, we couldn’t be Al Bano and Romina Power anymore, each of us was separated from the other, each of us was lonely lonely lonely lonely.

After a while she turned off the lights and I couldn’t hear her anymore. I supposed she fell asleep, generally xenure works quickly. She was sleeping and I was so close to her, but I couldn’t steal her wana anymore… I realized that all this time I vainly tried to tear her memory off my brain. I loved her even more.

Thank God I did it. My life was nothing but a piece of sandpaper, it couldn’t go on like that.

I stepped into the room. She even didn’t get to dry her hair, she fell asleep on the sofa. I went closer and sipped the water drops on her hair. It smelled like shampoo. I passed my heated fingers over her wet eyebrows. I kissed her neck. She had no pulse. I panicked when the phone rang, so I said to myself I should leave. Finally, after all those struggles and sleepless nights, I was free!

I went home and slept. Don’t know whether I dreamed or not. They arrested me early in the morning, there were five armored giants, as if I could fight, me! I don’t
even have scissors in my house and the knife – only use it to butter the bread.

They arrested and tried me. The verdict was short and I expected it: deportation. They sent me to Shannon, a small island in the Greenland Sea, half a world away,
to make glaciers. I arrived here a week ago and I can already say that guillotine is a child’s game comparing to my work here. We stay all day long in huge refrigerators, there are three main pools that collect water and convert it into glaciers. Soon, those glaciers would join the bigger ones floating already at sea. Thanks to other poor fellows and me the inhabitants of Holland and Venice can sleep safely, in dry beds. We all have frozen arms and legs, and most of the time we are unconscious, fainted because of gases. Soon, we’ll be nothing but crawling stumps.

I still think about her, from time to time. We walk on the cliff or on the beach, her white scarf touches my shoulder, we hold each other’s hand and our feet plunge into the sand. I kiss her and the water touches my knees, but it’s not the ocean, no, it’s the frost that bites me like a hungry shark. I love her and I suffer. I’m cold and suffer. I suffer cause I love her and I roll into her memory like a sunny meadow, I feel so good tucked up with her memory. I know she’s with me, I can feel it.

Sometimes, between the cold gusts, I can feel the shampoo on her wet hair. The more I suffer the closest I feel her. And this pain will purify me. I’ll become a better man for her, I’ll love her even more. And I know we’ll be together till the end of time.

Adriana Mosoiu (b.1974) lives and works in Constanta, Romania.
Infatuated with art, photography and travelling.

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