Mantis

39. A facade

I returned to Warsaw, and on the first day in my already completely disordered world, there was silence. Well, except for Lu's whining, who thought it was outrageous for me to disappear after classes without a word, then return and act as if nothing had happened. But she always overreacted, so I ignored her biting comments.

It wasn't until the next day that it got louder because Victor, who had probably already returned to Poland, decided to send me a package via courier. I didn't open the box. I only read the note attached to the lid, full of sentimental words of apology, but I decided to keep Victor and everything that came from him away from me, so I sent the package back to the sender and returned to my books.

The next day at the same time, the same courier showed up with the same note, extended with a request for a meeting, with the package returned the previous day and an additional box. Once again, I sent the courier away with the packages.

This situation repeated for the next four days, and each time there was one more box than the previous day, and on the last day, there were even two new ones. I had no idea what was inside, but it seemed I couldn't get rid of them. The girls looked at me like I was crazy, and I couldn't explain to them that I couldn't and above all didn't want to accept what I was receiving.

A week after my arrival in Poland, there was no more courier. Victor appeared in person. I stubbornly didn't answer his calls and ignored his messages, so he knocked and knocked until my roommates came to my room to find out what was going on, but I just glared at them and told them not to let him in under any circumstances. They looked at each other strangely but asked no more questions, for which I was immensely grateful.

Victor finally left, and right after that, Lu brought to my room the pile of packages I hadn't accepted all week. I glanced tiredly at the pyramid of boxes and decided, for the sake of peace, to keep his pathetic material apologies, but that wasn't the end.

The next day he showed up at our door again, this time without any gifts, and waited there endlessly. When no one came out, he sat in the hallway, and I, although I really wanted to, couldn't stop thinking about Victor. The more I tried, the more anger, resentment, and a huge longing for that idiot churned inside me, which made me even angrier. So I swung from one extreme to the other, getting mad when I knew he was sitting by the door and feeling inner disappointment when he disappeared. It was bad when he was there, and it wasn't any better when he wasn't. I completely didn't understand myself.

So passed my Saturday and much of Sunday, during which Victor stood at the door of my student apartment eight times with brief breaks. I tried to engage in constructive studying to drown out the unwelcome thoughts that stubbornly revolved around Victor, but no matter how hard I tried, it didn't work at all.

After five forced hours over the books, I finally admitted the little voice was right, that it was pointless. For the umpteenth time that day, the sound of the doorbell and knocking announced that Victor had resumed his occupation of our door, so I slammed the thick textbook shut and, lacking other constructive ideas, decided to go to bed early. I wouldn't have been able to focus on anything anyway, knowing that Victor was so close now.

Although the sounds of his tireless knocking at the door ceased unusually quickly, I had already made up my mind. I pulled over my head a black hoodie with the name of my university and was about to put on my pants when Victor burst into my room.

Actually, a more fitting term would be that he was pushed in, because right behind him appeared Lu, barely reaching his armpits, with a determined look on her face.

I stood frozen, staring at a face I certainly didn't expect to see, and didn't know what to say.

– What are you doing here? – I asked the first question that came to my mind.