Chapter 1A Chapter by Haart WondersFebruary 2013 Just another one of those gloomy days to spend in my four wall office with closed blinds, next to my boss that I begin to resent with every passing moment. I feel like he is trying to manipulate his clients and the people around him. Since I am not taking any of this, he acts like a child and does not even speak to me. I have never been a person to sit for eight hours in an office. It might be a good job I have, but it does not make me happy. I rather work as a waitress serving people and have fun. Even if it pays less. So the last few days I have been researching possibilities to get away from this draining office job. But there is one last thing I have to do - that cute guy who works in the office down the hallway. I am passing my time chatting with Simona: “Just had a conversation with THAT GUY from the other office. BEYOND! I am so awkward!” ... My heart is racing like crazy. He came to the kitchen and gave me his e-mail. I have to speak with Simona. Yes, I am an obsessed retard. I tried to find him online by looking at his company profile and its employees, but I could not find him. Even now, when I knew that his name is Gregory and got his email - I could not find him on any social media platform. So he is some kind of a mister Invisible. It is so rare to meet someone in the 21st century who cannot be stalked on the internet. I will have to find out everything myself - by asking questions and by communicating. And then there's me - my whole life is published online. As Greg wrote to me: “It really wasn’t that difficult to find information out about you. I must confess that I also spent some time last week looking you up. I think I know your life story. The crazy thing is that the more I found, the more I wanted to know... But don’t panic, It was definitely all good… You don’t have anything to worry about! “ All good? Makes me smile. My boss probably doesn't understand why I am smiling right now. I should be dealing with annoying and boring stuff that shouldn't make me happy. We are still in "who will go longer without speaking" game. Another mail from Greg: “You still haven’t spoken to your boss?! That is a good effort. You do realise he probably thinks you are weird, sitting there smiling to yourself. Don’t let him break you, I would be really impressed if you could make this last the whole day. So when do you think you will leave this job? Soon?” Yes, I am leaving already yesterday. I was ready to quit my job two weeks ago, but I couldn't do it before asking the cute guy from the other office his name - so I could stalk him online. And now I am really glad that I did not quit yesterday. I will try to impress my boss today, so maybe I could stay here for few more weeks... I don't know, if he will be too happy to keep me tho. I started a conversation, and he just replied: "Yeah, yeah, whatever"... How rude! C’mon dude! I'm still the best personal assistant that you could ever ask for. Told Greg that I felt like Thursday is a good day for leaving, as it is the last day of this month. Of course, it seems a bit too soon as we just started our communication. But we can drink about six cups of coffee a day, just so we have a reason to meet up in the kitchen... even if just for a few words. We continue our email communication by asking random questions to each other - about our hobbies, the movies we like, the songs we like to listen to. These emails are so much fun and his answers are always very good. And he wants to know an answer to another question - “How come you are single?” " he writes. ... I am single because… I was in love... Spring 2012 Denmark I had been really busy working in a Danish coffee company at the same time trying to keep up with all the semester projects we had in school and preparing for the last exams. After feeling not quite myself for awhile, I really wanted to go out and be wild for a night. A message from my friends offering me to join a party, came like a blessing, even when I had an exam the next morning. At the club I met Lars. I never meant to fall for him, but Lars was extremely handsome - dark brown hair, tanned skin, charismatic eyes, sparkling smile and well built, strong body. I did not have dreams about any sorts of relationship with him - all I saw was a flirt with someone magnetic. I only ran into him once in a few months, when I went out clubbing. Nevertheless I had him on my mind almost every single day. Whenever he spoke with me, he made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the whole room. I felt strong desire towards someone as mysterious as he was. Even if I could get him for a short moment, I still wanted him and I wanted those burning flames he gave my soul. He could make me feel different - silly, confused, nervous - something I wasn't used to be. I danced with my friends, had a few drinks and flirted with Lars by flashing my smile to him - he worked now and then at this club as a DJ. He tried to look busy, but I knew he was watching me. The night passed fast and my friends wanted to go back to my place, as they had promised to help me with preparation for my exam in the morning. Lars sent me a text message as soon as I left. By the morning our communication had gone to the point where he agreed to come over to my place right after he finishes working at the club. When he came to my apartment it was the first time we talked without other people around. The first time we talked about everything - traveling, adventures, life, kids, marriage. He made me realize that I have lived my life with closed eyes - always looking for a long term relationship, when I was young, free and beautiful. I had wings to fly, but I was sitting in a cage. And right in front of me was this amazing guy, looking at me with his ocean blue eyes, laughing and saying - "I want to live for myself, I don't want to get married and I don't want to have kids, life is too short". I knew he had a girlfriend. They had been together for four years, but now he was pretty much saying that it was not going to last, because he wants to live his life just for himself. He did not say it out loud - that his relationship is not going to last - but I knew. There is not a single girl in the world who would not want that ring on her finger. Besides, his girlfriend was something to envy. I would say that she was perfect. She was the soul of every party. She was fun, polite, smart and extremely beautiful. If Lars had everything a man could dream of, why was he here paying attention to me? “Are we going to kiss?” - he asked suddenly. I felt the strength of his hands stroking my back, and the gentleness of his kiss on my lips. I was trembling. He looked at me, smiled and went in for another kiss " longer, deaper, stronger. I tried hold to him with my arching body and pull him closer to let him do anything he wanted to do with me. As the pleasure thickened he pulled me away, smiled and said: “I will go home now”. What? Why? I don’t want you to go. I guess he saw the pain in my face expression and said: “Sweetie, you need to study for your exam, remember?”. He left. And I could not believe what had just happened. I will never know, if I was an exception or he was used to do these kind of things, but I always felt like I am someone special to him and I refused to believe my brain that tried to warn me to stay away from him. We disappeared from each others lives for a weeks... or months? I don’ know, it felt like forever... I got a good mark in my exam and few more exciting projects at work came up to keep me busy. Everything went back to the routine… Until one day Lars invited me over to his place. ... I closed the doors behind me and turned up the light, as I returned to my cold and empty apartment. I had just kissed Lars goodnight and returned home. I always seemed to be far away from him, but he lived in the house next doors. I can see his windows from mine. But we never visited each other. This night was one rare exception. But now I was back at home... alone. And then the text message came: He really is ready to cheat on his girlfriend. Did I want him that much to be his "other woman"? Did he really thought I am worth it? Was I ready to break even more rules? What would it do to me? Would I feel ashamed? Can I belong to someone like him and continue my life afterwards like nothing happened? ... Weeks passed and nothing happened. Lars kept playing the game. I asked him to come downtown, he promised to be there at the club, but never showed up. If he ever was at the club, she was there as well. I asked him to come over to my place, but he was always busy. Probably with her. I said many times - screw him, I’m moving on. And as soon as I tried to forget him, he surprised me with a message: “Good morning, Sunshine” or “You looked beautiful yesterday at the club” - he made me smile and at the same time he made me hate him. Or hate myself for not being good enough to get more of his attention. One day I had had enough of it. I knew he could never be mine and I knew he would play my heart forever. But my heart was not a game. Suddenly everything fell into place - I left my job at the coffee company and finished the school year. I planned to take one year off from studies in order to sort my life out and decide - if I want to continue studies in England or come back to Denmark. I did not know what the future will bring, but I decided that I wanted to get awasy from this small town and go see the world. Starting with England. During one of my work trips, I had traveled to London and fell in love with this city! I fell in love with the British politeness and kindness. I knew I wanted to live in London, so I was determined to go for it! But since I hadn't visited my parents and friends in Latvia much during the two years I lived in Denmark, I decided to do it while I don’t have a job or studies - right before diving into my new british adventure. I decided to make one of the biggest mistakes of my life - move back to my home country for the summer. ... While I was spending the most miserable summer of my life in Latvia, Lars wrote me that he is single now. I asked him, how come and he explained that it did not quite work for him and his girl so they went their separate ways. Well, of course, they did! He loved me and that is why he let her go. “Don’t be silly, he does not love you, he loves only himself” " I tried to remind myself. He asked me when was I coming back, so I made sure to go back to Denmark for two weeks, before finally flying to England. I needed some of that Danish positivity, I missed my friends and I would be lying, if I said, I was not missing Lars like hell. Of course I missed him. Of course I wanted to spend time with him. Otherwise I could never have a closure and would always think “what if I went back?”. I was going back to Denmark to say my last goodbyes. September 7, 2012 Dear Latvians, I did not say goodbye to you, because I did not want to give the promises you demand from me. The promise to come back. The promise to think about you. The promise to not forget you. You have given me an unforgettable summer - full of lies and loneliness. When I came back to Latvia, I had forgotten, how it feels to be the one thinking differently, to be the one who sees things from another perspective, the one who sees the glass half full, not half empty. Thank you, darlings, for reminding me of how it is to be the one who does not belong here. I remember how when I moved to Denmark, I was so surprised by the politeness and positivity of people around me. After two years living there I became so accustomed to the kindness of people, that I got a culture shock coming back to Latvia. Before moving to Denmark I used to hear the same words. Everyone told me that life in Denmark is going to be too hard. That I am not good enough for Denmark. But I did not care and everything turned out just great, didn’t it? But the same people who only see negative things in my decisions could never give me an answer to my question - What do you want me to do then? You can only put the other people down, but you yourself have never reached anything, because you have never tried. I guess, you wouldn't even have the time for trying as the only thing you do is care about how bad my decisions are and it takes all the energy from you to spend your time judging me. And you have no idea how it feels when even the people who have been on my side, always believed my my goals and plans, looks at me with that judgmental look that says - “Your dreams will crash”. The easy way out from this misery was to start coming up with some lies, because I am so sick and tired of telling you - Everything will be fine, I know what I am doing. Even easier than telling you the things I do not believe in is hiding. With time I started to avoid you all. I spent almost all of this summer alone, because I had no energy to continue telling the lies. I felt half dead. Maybe half alive - like the rest of the Latvian society - half alive. Slowly dying in its own negativity and inability. In July I met this norwegian guy in the old town of Riga. He told me: “Follow your heart and don’t let anyone say that there is something you can’t. You are a wonderful, strong and beautiful woman. There is nothing that you could not do!” " something I could never hear from my dear Latvians. The Norwegian guy was the first person in Latvia who made me feel alive again. He made me feel good about how and what I am as a person. He made me feel like I can breathe again. The next time I felt like I could breathe was the moment I find out where I will be living in England. That I had a safe place in Boston, where I can stay with a friend. And the least deep breath is today - when I know that tomorrow I will leave this country and I will be alive again in my own life. In the outside world I have friends and people who are waiting for me to come home. In Latvia I will always be that strange girl who does not fit in. It was the same in high school and it is the same now. Well then, if someone feels resentful, especially because I did not say goodbye before leaving - I hope you understand. I do not have the energy to pretend being half alive, just so you wouldn't feel the need to eat me alive. Anyways, see you soon!
September 12, 2012 I remember how I was crying at the beginning of summer, when I first left Denmark and when I first left Lars. ... In the last month living in Latvia I had lost about eight kilograms. I was concentrating on the last two kilograms, because my goal was to lose ten. To be good enough. That morning, while talking about fitness, Lars said: “You are perfect the way you are now” and then he made some yoghurt with berries and nuts for my breakfast. He poured milk in my coffee while saying: “And your a*s is so perfect that it could be on the cover of a fitness magazine”.
February 25, 2013 We are just relaxing in our cozy kitchen with Simona - discussing the things that happened at the office today. We live in a beautiful house with six bedrooms - I am living on the ground floor and Simona has her room upstairs. In the house there are three other Latvians - a middle aged couple who are like our mom and dad, and another guy, who works night shifts, therefore is sleeping during the daytime, so we almost never see him. Most of the time me and Simona just chill in the kitchen or in the living room by the TV - just the two of us and our silly girl conversations. “How many times are you going to boil the water?” - Simona laughs as I push the button on the kettle for the fourth time in a row. The water has to be hot enough for my tea to brew properly. I can't quite remember when exactly the water finished boiling - was it ten, five or just one minute ago? I have to boil it for one more time to make sure, it is hot. If the water cools down, while I'm doing other things - chopping spinach and mushrooms for my omelet and talking with Simona, I don't want to use it. It is most likely still hot, but why take the risk to brew a tea that might taste bad? It's not that hard to push the button for one more time just to make sure that the water is hot enough. I have to make sure that everything is good enough, including myself. I spend so much time at the gym, because I have to be good enough and it does not hurt to run an hour longer just to make sure I am really getting the best “me” possible. To get the best tasting tea, you have to make sure that the water is good enough. To get the most magnetic man in the world, you have to make sure that you are good enough. Was that not logical enough? I pour the hot water in my cup, put the kettle down, look at Simona and with a smile push the button so that the water that is still left in the kettle would start boiling again. We are laughing - I have too much logic in my head for boiling water as many times as I want. And Simona does not care about how stupid I can be " she thinks it is just funny. -“But did you ask Gregory if he is single?” - wondered Simona. … From: Gregory “When we spoke the other day (as you were leaving the office for your interview) I mentioned that I have a girlfriend…maybe you didn’t hear? The reason why I want to talk to you about this is because I want you to know that I am not a bad person " I know nothing has ‘happened’ between us but I do think about you all the time and it is driving me mad. My girlfriend and I are having problems at the moment (well, for a few months now) and meeting you has made me even more confused. If I was single I would have asked you to come out with me long before now, I really would have! I really, really hope with all my heart that this doesn’t mean that you will stop talking to me. I’m not a selfish person and would never expect you to wait for me but who knows what the future may bring. I feel bad even saying that due to my status but I hope you can see I am just trying to be honest with you. I will leave this topic where it is now but if you have any more questions, I’ll answer them. This kind of thing is difficult to talk about via email…it sounds very cold, blunt, heartless… but it’s really not.” Well, he obviously has no idea who he is dealing with. This is definitely my Karma for Lars and screwing up his relationship. Of course, there is no way I can find a guy to flirt with who is not in a relationship already. I feel bad for myself, because obviously all the good ones are taken. I left Denmark and ran away from Lars just for this reason - he was in a relationship and I was just a game for him. And now here is Greg. Could he turn out to be the same - ready to play me like a game, while he had a girlfriend waiting at home? Or maybe I could play him like a game? Just for the fun of it. Does not really matter. I will go with the flow. Just have to remember - do not fall for him or else it is going to hurt. I am so done with hurting. When Lars took me to the airport, he promised to visit me. Did he really now? I don’t remember, I expected him to visit me. But he never did. We barely even talk - a message now and then, but it is not the same anymore… And that hurts. I wrote to Greg: “I wouldn't want to stop talking with you, 'cause you are the first person in a very long time that makes me feel alive... And giving that up so soon would be kinda sad”. We started to discuss the tiger / dying children situation. In England there are two kinds of donations that are advertised on TV every day - they want you do donate for the starving African children or they want you to “Adopt a tiger” - by getting a membership and donating certain amount monthly to “your” tiger. Of course Greg went for the starving children, because who wouldn’t. I would go for the tigers without a single thought and would switch the TV channel as soon as the dying children commercials came up on TV. If we talk “people” - let’s say obesity kills more people than AIDS and malaria combined, so maybe I should donate some money for the poor little kids dying from overeating in the USA? People die because of stupidity... Mostly. And you can avoid that by educating people, not by giving them more food or money. “Give the man a fish and he will escape hunger for a day, teach the man to fish and he will escape hunger for the rest of his life”. Tigers on the other hand die because people are a******s. And that is what breaks my heart - tigers and all other animals are so beautiful. But the world is overpopulated with stupid people so there is left no space for tigers. There are only 2700 Bengal Tigers left in the wild. That is not even a small African town, is it? Of course, when I explained my point of view to Greg, he agreed and said that he himself donates money to the animal charities and not to the starving children of Africa. And we continued to talk about the Tigers. Not quite the ones endangered in the wild, but the ones endangered in our hearts. I start to fall in love with our conversations. The more we talk the more I feel like I have found one of those rare people meant to come in my life for something special. And I know that Greg feels the same. But it is all getting too much - these past couple of days filled with emails, coffee breaks with Greg and the pressure I feel in the office where tension between my boss and me is growing rapidly. How can one little woman survive so many feelings in such a short period of time? The only place I can get rid of all the built up emotions has always been the gym. ... Right after work I went to not one but two of my favorite classes. I had kicked a*s in the gym for one and a half hour straight, when I decided that I need to relax a bit. At my gym there is this dark room with a huge screen on which the latest music hits are being played. The rest of the room is filled with eight treadmills. This is my favorite place for my usual hardcore runs, as no one can see my face expression when I am pushing the sixteen kilometers per hour sprints. But today it was just the perfect place for an easy run to make me relax from the two workouts I had just had. I am so happy to see that the room is completely empty and I can spend some time alone. I start walking slowly to warm up for the run. Listening to music, thinking about my life, the work, Greg and tigers. Asians have their pride and there is no way they will be defeated by a woman. So the little weasel continues struggling at the speed of ten kilometers per hour and when he is completely out of breath, he holds himself up on the handles and rests in the middle of his run. He keeps hanging on the treadmill pretending to run. I realize - by hanging on the treadmill handles that dumb a*s can go on like this forever so I stop my treadmill immediately and go out of the room like a boss - saying out loud: “What an idiot!”. Which he probably does not hear, because he has headphones and is probably listening to music. ... As if it was not enough with one pakistani man this week to destroy my mood, my boss starts to act like I am his personal psychotherapist helping him to reevaluate his life goals. I am so tired of telling him, that he is sitting on the first step but has expectations as if he was at the top of the staircase. The most frustrating is that he does not listen to whatever I have to say, until I just stop talking to him. I feel like he has these “big ideas” with no realistic plan for reaching them and I am here just for the looks - sitting in silence and pretending to be useful - because my plans are not big enough for him. And what kind of an opinion can a woman have, if she works for a muslim dude? At least there is one thing in this office building to help me pass the time and get my mind off the reality of life. Greg and our coffee breaks. And long written conversations via emails. We have moved to a theme of regrets - do we have any regrets in life? He asked me, if I regret moving to England. October 2012, I moved to this little English town called Boston and had to find out everything about the work and possibilities from my fellow Latvians. I had no clue about how the system works in England. I trusted the advice of other people. They explained to me that in order to get my insurance number, so I could legally live here, I had to find a job. And the only way to get a job without an insurance number is to apply for one in a factory. There was a bus that picked up all the workers. After an hour long trip to the factory located outside of the town we got to meet the supervisors. They all were Latvian and Polish people - the ones who had more acceptable language level than the rest of the workers. When our group of “newbies” had to begin the shift we were taken to one part of the factory where we had to stand in a line by the spinning mule on which the pieces of a chicken were sliding past us. We had to take a piece, cut of the fat and blood off and put the good meat in containers. When I got home, I thought to myself - It cannot be that horrible! There are people working there for years and so many of them! I guess I am just tired because of the sleepless night. I believe that tomorrow everything will seem better. So the next day they made me work in freezer packing, where the temperature was below zero. I was wearing five socks, boots, two sweaters and gloves on my hands. Still I was freezing so bad that I could barely move my feet after the first few hours standing by the spinning mule cutting the frozen meat in smaller pieces. When my shift was over I was exhausted, desperate and emotionally drained - I wanted to go home. One of the supervisors came up to me and asked if I wanted to work the overtime. With tears in my eyes I asked if it was possible to just go home. And he answered - “The buss is coming in two hours, if you don't want to work overtime, you can go and sit outside”. Since I had no chance of getting home, I just worked the freaking two extra hours. The hard work was not the main reason I despised this place. I could not handle this humiliation - I could not listen to the polish women talking s**t about me in my face, just because I was the only one who had an international experience and education. I could not take the advice from a narcoman who told me - “You can get the best shifts by a*s licking”. No, this white slavery thing was not meant for me. I did not go to the factory for another day. I woke up angry as a dragon, took my motivation letter and my CV and walked around the city looking for a job. The same day I found a waitress job in a restaurant that belonged to a Latvian guy. When I went home, the man who had advised me the chicken factory work said that I should not work at this restaurant because the owner is cheating his employees and not paying salaries. I did not care and I did not listen to him. I loved my job as a waitress. The owner was really nice man with a great sense of humor. He not only paid me the promised salary, he also allowed me to eat dinner and drink coffee for free. Sometimes, when he tried out new cocktails I got to drink those as well. I had fun at my work! And the best part of everything was the customers - most of them were british people, so I had no need to communicate with the uneducated latvians, lithuanians and polish factory workers. I had to work only four evenings in a week. The rest of the time spent in this shithole was miserable. I had moved in with two latvians - factory workers with middle school education who were not able to keep up an intelligent conversation, just some complete crap consisting of mostly swear words. And the whole town was full of these kind of people. I could not speak to anyone outside of my job. Apart from that one awesome fitness trainer I met at my local gym. He told me once: "Girl! You have actually done some really nice things in your life, but the most discussed topic in our conversations is your two day work experience in a chicken factory. That's mental, girl, that's just mental. I promise you, I will totally get a job in a pork meat factory and last there for 3 days, so I can brag about my experience too". He was the funniest person I have ever met! Despite having a friend that I could actually communicate with and a work that I enjoyed, I still felt like living in hell - in the middle of nowhere surrounded by criminals and alcoholics. In Denmark I was surrounded by students and motivated, educated people. I had no energy to strive in this unbearable society of farm workers. When I told my housemate that I am planning to move away, she said: “What stupid ambitions you have, I have been working in the factory for six years now and have not gotten any further than that! And you think you are better?” - and that was the main trait in people around me - they were complaining about how hard and miserable the life was and were certain that there are no possibilities to get any further in life. And they all felt smarter than me advising me to shut my mouth and go back to the factory work as it was a well paid work. Again I did not care, because in my mind it could not get any worse than this. I had to try something else. I packed my suitcases and moved to Birmingham. First I found a job in a jewelry shop and worked there for two weeks until I got my insurance number and could apply for other jobs. The worst part of my life was over. I had gotten out of a miserable place, but I still felt dead inside. I had lost my confidence and it took months to become the smiling and life loving girl I used to be before Latvia and before Boston. February 28, 2013 From: Gregory I don’t think I have ever seen you sad. You always look happy. Even before we started talking I saw you getting a coffee and I remember thinking that you looked like a happy person (and hot). Everything you have written makes perfect sense. I think the key point being about not looking back or too far forward. This is how I live my life (try to). Here is a good quote for you: “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God, which is why we call it the present.” Sorry if i’ve kept you from your work today. It is difficult not to chat with you. Xxx Greg © 2017 Haart WondersFeatured Review
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