Entering the dorm room, I freeze on the threshold. Dima, my roommate, is passionately kissing some blonde. Good thing they aren't choosing my bed this time. I toss my things into the corner and sit down on a chair, trying not to pay attention to them. But this sight stirs up memories I'm desperately trying to forget. The pain I've been suppressing washes over me again, drowning me.
Katrin… She has never been shy about her behavior. She loves male attention and never pushes them away, even after what happened to her. Yes, she doesn't like it when force is used against her, but that doesn't stop her from flirting, smiling, being the center of attention. And now, left alone, doubts are eating away at me from the inside. What if everything she told me was a lie? What if that guy, who she claimed assaulted her, never existed? Or maybe it's all part of her game? Part of that world she lives in, where truth and fiction are so tightly intertwined that it's impossible to tell one from the other?
I close my eyes, trying to silence the voice in my head whispering, "What if Katrin is just using you? What if it's all an act?" But the more I think about it, the more the doubts consume me. I remember her smile, her laughter, her tears. Was any of it real? Or am I just another character in her drama?
Dima and the blonde don't even seem to notice my presence. They're laughing, whispering, and their happiness seems so simple, so genuine. And here I am, sitting with a pile of questions I might never find answers to. And that makes it even more painful.
"Ahem. Sorry if I'm interrupting," I break the shameless scene. My voice sounds dry, but inside, everything is boiling.
Ooh, look who knows big words! When you were kissing Katrin like that, it didn't bother you, the inner voice sneers, as if trying to sting me harder.
And it's right. We're always fine with everything when we're head over heels in love. We turn a blind eye to what once seemed unacceptable and find excuses for even the strangest behavior. But now, with love gone, everything looks different. I feel stupid, almost hypocritical.
"Max? I thought you… moved out," Dima says, glancing at my things thrown in the corner. His voice sounds a little confused, but there's understanding in his eyes. He clearly realizes he'll have to share the room again.
"Babe, maybe next time? I need to support my friend here; he's clearly got some girl problems," he persuades the blonde, trying to sound soft but firm.
The girl doesn't argue. She kisses him on the cheek goodbye and, throwing a curious glance at me, leaves the room.
"Ex-girlfriend," I clarify as soon as the door closes. My words come out sharp, but I can't help it.
"Ooh! Lovers' quarrel?" Dima jokes, trying to lighten the mood. His smile is a little nervous, but there's genuine concern in his eyes.
"We broke up, and I don't plan on having anything to do with her ever again," I state firmly, making it clear the topic is closed.
"So, who dumped who? Care to share?" He raises his eyebrows with obvious interest. His tone is light, but I can tell he really wants to understand what happened.
"I broke up with her," I say, avoiding details. My words sound like a verdict, as if I'm trying to convince not just him but myself too.
"Why? Did she forget how to kiss?" he jokes, but it comes off as inappropriate.
My gaze, filled with exhaustion and irritation, makes it clear to him that now is not the time for such questions. I ignore his words, focusing on my things.
After arranging my belongings on the shelves, I grab what I need for classes and head for the door. My movements are sharp, almost mechanical. I don't want to talk, I don't want to think. All I want is to lose myself in studying, in the routine that might distract me from thoughts of Katrin.
Today, unlike yesterday, my mood feels like a heavy, gray fog hanging over my soul. I feel empty, as if there's a deep chasm inside me, and I can't even muster the strength to smile. I ignore everyone around me, turn away from questions about Katrin, and either stay silent or simply walk away, unable to bear even the mention of her name. Every time someone says it, my heart clenches like it's in a vise, and I feel a wave of pain and anger rising inside me, barely contained.
Rebel Girl—that's what I still call her in my thoughts—isn't here today, and, as it turns out, won't be here tomorrow either. Where she is, I pretend not to care. But that's a lie I keep repeating to myself. I act like she means nothing to me, like her absence doesn't matter. But deep down, I know it isn't true. Katrin is everywhere—in my thoughts, in my memories, in every breath I take. She is like a shadow, haunting me, giving me no peace.
Dima, my roommate, seems to understand me better than I understand myself. He doesn't ask unnecessary questions, doesn't mention her name, doesn't try to pull me out of this pit of despair. He's just here, talking to me about anything—music, sports, future plans—but never touching on the topic that hurts me the most. And for that, I'm grateful. His presence is like a breath of fresh air in this suffocating world I've created for myself.
I do everything to forget about Rebel Girl—that's how I still refer to her in my mind. I bury myself in my studies, spend all my time with books, trying to drown out the pain that won't let go of me for a minute. I read, write, solve problems, do everything to avoid returning to memories of her. But she's everywhere. In every word, every line, every glance I cast at the world around me. She has seeped into me like poison, slowly but surely destroying me from within. Rebel Girl doesn't want to leave my mind or my heart, and I feel like a prisoner of my own feelings.
Wednesday is as ordinary and dull as all the previous days. Katrin hasn't shown up at the institute for the second day, and I try to convince myself that this is normal, that her absence is what I want. But deep down, I know it isn't true. Seeing her, even from a distance, would be unbearable for me. Maybe someday, but not now. Right now, I'm afraid that if I see her, I won't be able to hold back. That I'll run to her without thinking, hug her the way I always do, and kiss her the way I always do. And she'll respond, wrapping her arms around my neck like she used to. But I know that can't happen. Not now.
The heart aches so intensely that the pain turns physical. I feel it tightening, as if someone is squeezing it in a fist, and I can barely breathe. I even take a sedative to somehow cope with this state. But it doesn't help. Nothing helps.
Returning from classes, I'm about to go to my room to prepare for the tests that are supposed to be in a month and a half. But it isn't about my desire to study or do well. I'm ready to do anything, just to distract myself, just to stop thinking about her. I want these thoughts, these feelings, this pain to finally leave me alone.
At the door, I run into Dimka. He stands there as if he's been waiting for me, and in his eyes, I see the same understanding that's always been there.
"Hey. Back already?" Dimka asks cheerfully, his voice sounding as if he has just heard the funniest joke in the world.
His smile is wide, almost defiant, but in his eyes, I notice something more—as if he knows something I don't. His tone is light, almost playful, but there's a hidden tension in it, as if he's trying to mask his real emotions behind a facade of cheerfulness.
"Yeah. Why?" I reply sadly, my voice sounding hollow, like an echo in an empty room.
I don't want to talk, don't want to see anyone. All I want is to be alone with my thoughts, no matter how hard it is. My words sound as if I'm on the edge, and every syllable comes with difficulty.
"No reason. Go to your room," my neighbor says, his tone becoming slightly more serious, but there's still a strange lightness in it. It's as if he's hinting at something, but I'm too lost in my thoughts to understand what exactly.
"I'm going to, but you're blocking my way." I don't want to argue, don't want to explain anything. I just want to walk past him, to finally be alone.
Dimka steps aside, letting me through, but in his eyes, I see something that makes me pause for a moment. It's a look full of understanding and sympathy, but there's also a secret in it, one he's not in a hurry to reveal. I walk past him, feeling the weight in my chest grow heavier.
"Sending you love and advice!" he calls after me before slamming the door shut with a loud noise.
His words sound like a joke, but there's a strange seriousness in them. I freeze for a moment, trying to figure out what he means. What does it mean? His phrase keeps spinning in my head, but I can't find an answer.
The room is dark. I click the switch, and the light fills the space, but it can't dispel the darkness that has settled inside me.
And then I see her.
On my bed sits Rebel Girl. She's here. In my room. In my space. In my life, which I've been so desperately trying to escape from.