somewhere on my way, Anna N. Schnieden [best summer reads TXT] 📗

important than love to them…obviously! It was kind of an awkward situation for me when one of them wanted me to say, “I love you.” Oh…boy…what did I do to deserve the honour? I was jumped to another dimension. However, I did not say the words because I did not know how to love her like she did me, according to the love for her…sister…best friend? Whatever! Some people told me in that area of the earth, “How are you?” and “I love you” were only a courtesy and…in some levels, she must have loved me! Wow, shocking, I did not understand…the levels of love? I did not have one and if I say I love you, meaning, I actually love the person like “Please drag me to hell with you!”…that is how I understand love.

 

Sometimes, many times, I was thinking, “How the hell do humans get into those…shits?” Do we understand what are we doing… now? Do we appropriately use the only method of human communication with responsibility?

 

“We can’t live without one another (me)” a lady said to me, I did not significantly know her. That was what jumped me to the…Mars!

 

 

Everything that is full of doubts, is full of shits…that is my philosophy…after…knowing!!!

 

Mr. Wise said to me once that everything happened because we made it matter and how we made it matter! If, we just stop thinking and asking ourselves “Am I sure I want to do this?” or “Do I know what am I doing?” And if it does not work, do not try to run away from problems and leave shits all over…especially, if the problem is a little human.

 

Coming to the lover relationship, it is an amazing intense feeling that was what some people said and the feeling of deep affection?…sounds cool. My first face-to-face with a love story was…hmmm I think…it was the love!

 

My year 2 in university, and …I was on a street in front of the building. It was an anatomy class, and we were supposed to draw human parts; I was walking like…life had never been better until something intercepted and held my eyeballs in one place where a girl’s body came…down to contact with some grass and flower plants quickly and forcefully. I thought it was for anatomy class! Before I moved my little feet speedily, I could hear someone give a long piercing cry and by the time I reached the girl’s body, the sound had turned to the word “Help” I was there with the girl’s…body, trying to check if she was still on this earth. One side of her neck was stuck with a…piece of…wood; I took my socks off for the bloody and held her neck up a bit…hmm like doctor 101. (I could not take my t-shirt off; more screaming might have been…louder!)

 

I tried to stop the bleeding, but not much I could do, I did not even finish my first semester at pre-med…I was told later that she was in love with one of my classmates, but he was not in love with her! That day, I was in a lower mood, thinking, “Really, love made people think they could fly?” I was walking class to class with my bloody t-shirt…all day, just for fun, the chicks at school…loved it…loudly!

 

I called Ms. Goody and told her what I had been facing, but the girl died anyway.

 

 

 

“Well, sweetheart. What do you think?” Ms. Goody.

 

 

“Hmm…don’t know. Never looked at boys. They don’t look at me! I’m still on Bob Marley version! I don’t understand, why we’ve to die in the process of love. I’d have been dead long ago…if that is the point!” Me.

 

“Haaa, you don’t have to! How did she live her life before him? She was too young to give away something so important, don’t you think?” Ms. Goody.

 

“Ahuh. Well, how do I know I wouldn’t end up on the top of…some building…if I love someone? I don’t want to jump out of a building…like that! Don’t like bushes.” Me.

 

“You can jump off a cliff when you meet someone who truly loves you. That would be worth it.” Ms. Goody.

 

“Hmm…why would I do that, if he truly loves me?” Me.

 

 

“Exactly, sweetheart! You wouldn’t die when you’re in love.” Ms. Goody.

 

 

“How do I know? Men are sweet-candies, a sugar smiling. So boring actually!” Me.

 

“You’ll know what to do when it comes to you. I know you won’t disappoint me, and I know that when you fall down you’ll find a strength to walk again.” Ms. Goody.

 

“Hmm…I think, I shouldn’t do love for now. I don’t like jumping. But, got it Ms. Goody, love someone who loves me then. I love you.” Me.

 

That was my first reason about love…with again…I came with…plans, the way of knowing men were to get involved with men and it was easy for me. Men were just right on my…everywhere. At the school, my class had 35 students, 5

 

 

girls and 30 boys…to be precise, 3 girls, 2 tomboys, 2 ladyboys, and 28 full option boys. At work (Professor Daddy’s), 14 men and 2 girls, me and a receptionist. At the job sites, there were always men.

 

“Mr. Hardly, have you ever been in love?” Me.

 

 

“What the fuck do you think? Why am I here? I have a son, 6 years old.” Mr. Hardly.

 

“Really? Oh, why did you marry your wife?” Me.

 

 

“Oh, she has a nice ass and is an excellent cook!” Mr. Hardly.

 

 

“So, if she did not have a nice ass, would you still marry her?” Me.

 

 

“How the fuck do I know? She has it!” Mr. Hardly.

 

 

At the time, I did not understand why asses were important, but it must have been because my boy classmates liked to talk about it. I was wondering around, tried to find out “How do men do when it comes to girls and love?” So far, it seemed to be tits and asses…oh, and the kitties! I was getting worried about…mine… One evening, I got a chance to talk to Professor Daddy.

 

“Why did you marry? Have you ever been in love?…or used…that before you got married?” Me.

 

“What the hell? Hey, do you know, you’re talking to an old man?” Professor Daddy.

 

“And?? What is wrong?” Me.

 

 

“Girls don’t talk about an old man’s sex-life. Are you bloody chick’s head? What are all these bloody curiosities?” Professor Daddy.

 

 

“Men, love, something like that. After that girl hopped out of floor number 7, I was curious about love. Ms. Goody said love someone who loves me. And I’ll know what to do when it comes for me! It sounds too confusing a conundrum for me! By the way, the seniors call that girl, The Hopped Girl!” Me.

 

“Ah, I see. I heard you scared the hell out of people all day! Listen, I know you think that was stupid. Many were thinking the same, but you’ll never know it’s stupid or it isn’t until you were in the same broken emotion. It’s profound how someone could possibly love another that much, don’t you think? Or, it was fun to you, wearing her blood all day…mocking the dead?” Professor Daddy.

 

“…No, I’m sorry. I was playing with those chicks in the product major. Did not mean to. So, you agree with the jumped off?” Me.

 

“Of course not. It was sad. Hey, you know, right? You won’t fall in love only once in a lifetime? Love would come again and again until you’re sure, this is a right person.” Professor Daddy.

 

“Ahuh, look at me. I was supposed to be a product of the love! Turn out I am a PTHD, OCD, and autistic!! How do I know which one is a right person?” Me.

 

“Easy, when you find out what kind of person you want to be with. But, don’t be picky and biggie. You might spend the rest of your life alone!” Professor Daddy.

 

“Ah! Don’t worry! I’m not that pretty! Get it!!! You’re bloody smart! So…you did use…your…before you married…right?” Me.

 

I was running as fast as I could before something knocked on my little head…ouch! Many years later, I was told that a rich old man killed his 19-year- old wife, so I was curious about the old and the young. Moreover, my very own grandpapa, a 77 years old man who liked to sleep on the top of the mother’s cement –fence after… hmmm out all night with 18 years old girls… So, I had … again, plans!

 

 

“Joshy, do you like young girls? How was it…young…kitty?” Me.

 

 

“You need to go there huh? Why do you want to know? I’m a man, have you ever noticed?” Joshy.

 

“Joshy, are you sure, you are a bloody surgeon? Don’t see asses and tits enough? I’m your friend. So, all of me comes with our friendship. Like, buy one get a free lunatic. We talk about girls today! So???” Me.

 

“Of course, if I think about sex only, young is cool. But, it wasn’t always good though” Joshy.

 

“Ah, so young is good for…intercourse with. What do you mean? It isn’t always good?” Me.

 

“Hmm…well, sometimes it wasn’t going with the plan. Sometimes it was too noisy or too many games. What about you, never had older men interested in you?” Joshy.

 

“Well, my dead fiancé was 7 years older than me. But, he wasn’t old…old you know. Although, I met an old once, he was old enough to be my daddy. He called me one night after we met at a party…right, Moony? Yaa! And he said, ‘When I look at the moon, I see your face. When all stars are reflecting, I see your eyes, looking down at me!’ So, I told him when he becomes an astronaut, I would date him. I want to see space! Haven’t heard from him since!” Me.

 

About the noisy and the games, I was told by my other friends, who had the same noise problem.

 

“Well, they were young. Everything was nice! But of course, they were also immature. They didn’t understand or carry on conversations.” A Canadian friend.

 

 

“What about the…emotion that is forcible than it is justified! Screaming perhaps? My Switzerland friend told me that he had to cover a girl’s mouth…while they were…bedding!” Me.

 

“Oh yes, sometimes! Like ‘Oh, fuck me…. squawking …’ what did she think what I was doing? Reading a bedtime story?’” A Canadian friend.

 

“Ok, too much of the sound of happiness isn’t a happy time! Got it!” Me.

 

 

I had heard something even more interesting, how 2 people had an intimate relationship. I met a girl on my way…somewhere; she was nothing that men would say, “Beauty.” However, she was not hmmm…ugly and she had a good career, young and sweet! Her boyfriend was nothing that an ordinary girl would dream of; so I was very curious, but never asked…I did not want to get beaten! However, when the relationship downed from hell to the bottom of the hell, she told me, “I’m with him because I do not think I can do any better.” I did not know what the hell that meant until the Canadian friends educated me.

 

“Well, some people do not feel comfortable with themselves. They don’t feel confident with either their bodies or their looks. They don’t have self-esteem.” A Canadian friend.

 

“Oh, really! Wooh, hmmm, how many are they?” Me.

 

 

“Oh, many of them.” A Canadian friend.

 

 

“Do they love the…‘I don’t think I can find any better’ partner?” Me.

 

 

“I don’t think so. This kind of relationship exists because some people are afraid of loneliness.” A Canadian friend.

 

I think that was sad and no one should look at themselves that way.

Everyone has something bright and everyone has something dark, moreover,

 

 

everyone perfectly has a quality of being attractive in a pretty or endearing way…. oh except me, I do not have either of that!

 

Furthermore, I met another woman who married a man she did not… like? She talked incompetent about him…like before and after…with everyone! I thought, boyfriends or husbands were for…hmm intense exciting, not for barking…hmmm right? I was wondering, something might have been wrong with their…brainless. It was one of…the shits I could not think of…how the marriage would