Starlight (rusame)

the problem of feeling

"Why , if it isn't Mother Russia," you say slowly, taunting, meant to anger me. You were laughing with your neighbours only moments ago, keeping them close and they stayed, and they seemed happy. Now you stand away from them, posed to block them from my sight- you're protecting them, but from what, States? I don't understand. I can't understand this.

I hate this, I hate that I put you on the defensive. Do you honestly believe that I want to fight you? I'm not that stupid, I know you're not so stupid either. You, me, everything this world needs us to be, I can't grasp it at all, I just want to know why .

"I don't wish to fight." I say. You holler with incredulous laughter, shaking so bad that the sunglasses begin to slip off your nose. It is simply that unbelievable of a claim that Russia does not want to be the Western world's enemy.

You wound me, States.

I wish I could take these feelings out of me and forget about them as easily as you seem to have forgotten about me. I want to pretend that I never knew a different version of you. I want to think that the bright young man standing at the port died in those years between then and now so I can hate you like the world says I do. Abiding by the politics of our reality would be so much easier, I would only need to become a puppet and echo everything my administration says and become the cold and unfeeling Russian that everyone says I am.

The thought makes me sick.

"Wait, I get to keep this? It's mine?" Jingling, the Russian ruble glinted silver in the soft sun. You cupped your hands and shook them, listening for their tinkle. I turned back around and fell for you again.

How hauntingly beautiful you were.

"Yes...?"

"Thank you!"

I wonder if you have died, and the United States of America is someone I don't know and I am clinging onto the idea of someone that doesn't exist. Soyuz wouldn't have really... would he?

UN's voice rings through the auditorium and shocks Russia from his consideration.

"If I may call the delegates to their seats, we are to begin soon. Thank you."

Russia turns back around to try hope to get a glance at USA, and nobody is there.

Have I not eaten enough of reality's bitter pills?

How easy would it be to stop resisting his government and stand for his people and take on their feelings and become the "right" Russia that he isn't? He wants to cut open his chest and pull out everything that hurts him by the root and forget it all, run away. He doesn't. He has a responsibility here and his will to live hasn't deteriorated to the level yet.

The vodka helps.

"Global Governance may sound lofty or abstract. It is not." The UN-Secretary General finishes, and thus begins the first day of general debates.

China, seated next to him, clicks his tongue, nudging Russia to look at the notes of the proposed 12 commitments as States goes up with another member of his delegation to present on climate issues and objectives.

The 12 proposals are:

Leave no one behind,Protect our planet,Promote peace and prevent conflicts,Abide by international law and ensure justice.Place women and girls at the center,Build trust,Improve digital cooperation,Upgrade the UN,Ensure sustainable financing,Boost partnerships,Listen to and work with youth, andBe prepared.

He draws attention to the 8th point.

"I'm concerned about this one," he says. Russia considers it for a moment, flipping through his memory for what exactly was said on it... 2030 goals, sustainability...