Pelle and Amara have to answer some very important questions. When does love become toxic? At what point do you gain the courage to realize the perfect relationship has turned into a mascarade? And when exactly do you see the abuse you've put each o...
Today at Nikolas's party, we found out his girlfriend is pregnant. Amara ran out and I drove her home, and I held her by my chest for hours and hours.
''Why did it have to be like that, huh, Pelle?''
''I don't know. It happened and we can't change it. But we'll be fine.''
Amara is now a teacher. It is what she wished to do and I can't help loving the way she is with her students. I'd never have her do anything more or less than what she wishes.
''Why have you bought that?'' she asked me, pointing at the new TV, standing on the floor.
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''Because I wanted it... what's the point?''
''You never asked me if I wanted anything, Pelle.''
''Hey, what's going on with you huh? I get it, Amara, I've been taking antidepressant and sleeping pills for 8 freaking months now, but I ain't pulling fights with you on the freaking TV!''
''It's not about the TV, you never ask me what I want...''
''What do you want?''
''Nothing.''
I sighed and left the room to give her some space.
''Sometimes I feel like what's yours is yours and I can't even touch it.''
''Then marry me!'' I yelled from the bedroom and came back. ''I've been proposing every two months since June, Amara! Freaking marry me and all I have will be yours too! Legally!''
''It is not the time!"
I literally punched myself.
''What do you want Amara? You've been like this for like...5 weeks now.''
She didn't say anything for a time.
''I want to know what's between you and Mila.''
I didn't have the heart to write anything about Mila down until now, because I was afraid. Afraid that one day Amara would see this notes and find out. But now, what does it matter.
For 3 months, I didn't touch Amara. She was depressed and I was on too many pills. But there comes a moment when the pills don't work and the ghosts of the past come haunting.
And that's how the vodka bottle glued to my hand once again.
A glass today. Two glasses tomorrow. The whole bottle next week.
That's how I found myself in August, in a bar in Tampere, surrounded by coworkers and friends and a Finnish girl named Mila, 2 years older than me, looking 5 years younger.
That night I wasn't only drunk, I was so gone I remember nothing. I don't even have a glimpse of a moment of that night. I just know I woke up the next day with the worst headache, naked in my car, with Mila.
The both of us agreed it was a drunken mistake -Mila is married -and promised t never talk about it ever again. But here it is - the womanly intuition hitting me again.
Mila had been following me around since then, despite our agreement. No one but us knows, and I've been seriously thinking about firing her.
''I barely talk to Mila, and when I do, it's about work.''
''Yeah.''
I sighed and took my jacket, and she stopped me.
''I want to go and stay with my parents for a while.''
