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The 4th chapter will focus on Chris as she lost her wings.
I am very thankful for the help of my editors Dale and LaRascasse. What still is wrong or tedious is nobodies fault but my own.
Thank you so much!
Golf-India-Romeo-Lima – Chap. 4:
“The quickest path to self-destruction is to push away the people you love.”
– Cassia Leo, Pieces of You
If a frog is placed into hot water, it jumps out immediately. If a frog is placed into cold water and the boiling starts slowly, it will get cooked.
Our relation went down the gutter step by step the same way. Each time Sasha mentioned Manuel the strangler fig inside my heart received fresh nutrient and enveloped the tree of love I felt for her a little more, trying to strangle it to death.
I was jealous but unable to confess it. The bitter taste of feeling rejected and inferior which I remembered so well from my younger years came back and poisoned my tongue. The pain it inflicted made me retreat back into the walls I had constructed to protect me. I did not yet understand that they imprisoned me both at the same time. Like a hermit crab, I hid inside my snail shell.
Sasha made several attempts to talk, feeling that I was at the edge of screwing up everything. The closer her assumptions came to the truth the more determined I was to deny.
I became quite inventive of excuses why I had started to avoid her presence. That became unbearable to me as it always reminded me of the perfect time we’d had and which I hoped would return like nothing else in this world ever has. Being unable to talk openly about my feelings, as I should have, I started to hate myself because I was about to lose it.
The more I hated myself the more I became bitchy towards her as if this would motivate her to climb my walls and look behind, to discover the frightened being hiding behind. A being suffering horribly — well aware of the danger of losing her. As she did not look behind the wall I condemned her although it was nobody’s fault but my own.
It was a vicious cycle and I was too weak to break out. It was so perverted and fucked up that it is barely understandable if you do not consider the fact that I was still deeply wounded. If you consider that in my darkest depths a hidden ulcer still festered, while I had done my best to bury it deeply and forget about it. But, it did not heal untreated. It was just waiting for me to offer it an opportunity to grow and spread the disease again.
The clouds that had occupied the skies over our paradise became a solid layer and changed their innocent white for black, forecasting a thunderstorm as Sasha had also reached the limits of what she could bear. So it was not without augury when it finally broke loose.
“You know what Christine, if I have become such a burden to you I think I’d better pack my bags and leave this place,” Sasha yelled at me over the kitchen table with her deep brown eyes sparkling angrily.
“Good thinking, Alexandra! And take this shitty tube of toothpaste with you! It has dried out as you again did not screw the lid on. I’m sick and tired of repeating myself over and over again,” I spat back and threw the tube at her.
“Fuck you!” she shot at me dodging the projectile.
“Fuck yourself,” I shot back and turned on my heels leaving the kitchen. I jumped into my boots, took my jacket and helmet and ran out of the flat slamming each door on my path.
I took two steps at once on my way down I was in such a mad fury. It was not about the fucking toothpaste of course. It was all about me. Meanwhile, I was freaking out at each smallest opportunity and indeed I was much more of a burden to Sasha than the other way around. At last, I had managed to get her really pissed this time. She had never called me Christine before.
I ripped the tarpaulin from my bike and mounted it starting the engine. It bubbled and shook under me while I closed the strap of my helmet under my chin. I twisted my wrist and let the engine howl two or three times. It roared out loud from its Conti trumpets. I was sure my neighbors hated me but I was certain that not one of them would like to be in my shoes this time. I waited for the length of a deep breath as if this roaring engine could have made her run for me.
I send a silent prayer: Let her come down.
It was not answered.
I had never tortured a cold engine before. This time I kicked the gear in so that the gearbox piped up with a loud click and I hit the road pushing the engine mercilessly.
I did not care where I went, just as long as it was far away from here. I took the motorway to get out of town as fast as possible and as I left the city limits I was determined to find out what was hidden inside my old Italian two-wheeler.
After I left the motorway I rode along a narrow country road with a long straightaway awaiting me. A twist of my wrist opened the carbs wide open and I shot casino şirketleri ahead. More than 100mph as the next corner was in sight. Fuck the speed limit!
Hard breaking, two gears down, hanging my ass out, I laid deep into the turn. Reaching the cusp I opened the throttle again and shot flat out on the short straight for the next corner ahead. It went all smooth as I turned deep to the other side.
The way I was pushing did not allow me to think about anything else. The more adrenaline that was pumping through my veins the less my brain could afford to be busy with the rubble of my life that I left behind. Slowly I calmed down. I freed myself while I got into the rhythm of the road on which I raced along. I became one with the vibes of the machine between my legs and the road underneath me. I raced against my anger and I won, leaving it further behind me with each corner I went through.
I thought, how to apologize. Not only for throwing this damned tube. Since Manuel had appeared in our life I had bitten her at every occasion. It had become only worse with each day. This fucking tube, I had thrown at her, was just adding to my previous insultes and bitchiness.
I was running on reserve as I returned to the city. I had ridden a wide half circle emptying my tank and I felt better as the slipstream had cleared my mind. Cleared my mind was probably a bit too optimistic but at least my fury had gone as I eventually drove into a gas station to refill my tank and have a coffee.
Slowly I drove home, thinking about begging Sasha for her pardon. I was thinking about the right words as I covered my bike again and went up the stairs to our flat. The way upstairs was much slower than down because I was on my own road to Canossa.
I entered the flat which was quiet. I looked through the rooms but Sasha was gone. Perhaps if I had been able to find the strength to tell her everything I could have broken down the walls and escaped from the prison I was stuck in. Perhaps I would have cried enough tears to wash all the bad words away and come clean with her again. Perhaps, if she had still been around.
Instead of her I found only a note on the kitchen table.
“I will take the rest of my belongings during the weekend.
She had left. Not that I did not deserve it as I had done my best to push her away. Nevertheless, it hit me like a hammer as I realized the final result. My wings had finally lost their last feathers as my jealousy had melted the wax. Our home had become my dwelling again.
“Well done Chris,” I congratulated myself sarcastically.
My stomach flipped but this time not out of passion like so many times before. As Sasha had been my heroin, I now was a junky going cold turkey. I could not find tears to cry. I only felt the urge to throw up instead. I rushed for a glass of water to swallow down the vitriolic mud that tried to push up through my throat.
I thought about calling her but I bounced back from the walls of my self-induced prison. This automatism kicked in again, preventing me from begging for mercy. I won’t beg for anyone to love me. Not during this lifetime. I was not strong enough to survive the night here. As always if my ass was really down I leaned on Richy. I hoped he would pick up the phone when I called his number.
“Hi. You know what to do after the beep, don’t you?” I heard his voice.
I waited for the beep: “If you’re around, answer the phone Richy, please. It’s me, Chris.”
I waited for a while but he did not pick up. I broke the line and was thinking about what to do now. Then my phone rang.
“Chris here,” I said.
“What’s up? I was trying to get some sleep before work. I hope you have a good reason to wake me up,” I heard a sleepy voice from afar.
“Richy. Thank God. I need asylum. Can I stay with you for the night? I will take the couch or whatever. I won’t be a bother, I promise.”
I faced a long silence. Too long for my comfort. “Yeah, sure,” he finally agreed. “On one condition, though.”
“I’m fucking Switzerland, got it? You may do what you want but if you try to make me take a side, you get kicked out. I don’t know what’s wrong with both of you and it’s not my bizz I guess. But I won’t let you drag me into it, right?”
I was astonished. Did Sasha tell him already about what had happened? “Fair enough. But where do you know from?”
“Serious? I’m neither blind nor retarded. I have no idea what had changed you from the sweet lass I knew into that fierce bitch. But in her shoes I’d have kicked your ass already long ago – and I told you so! Well, I tried to, if you’d only listened to me,” he explained rather untouched. “Oh, pick some beers on your way. See you.”
I wanted to reply something but he had already hung up. Screw it, at least I was accepted for the night. I got my backpack and stuffed it with the things I would need. The toothpaste I found still lying untouched on the kitchen floor. It gave me a stab to my casino firmaları heart causing me to hurry to leave.
I mounted my bike again and picked some beers on my way to Richy’s place. Eventually, I rang his bell and he buzzed me in. He stood at the door frame as I went up to his flat.
“You look like shit,” he welcomed me charmingly waving a cup of coffee in his hand.
“It just mirrors my internal state,” I replied and pushed the six pack with the beers against his chest. “Admission as I remember our deal? Will you let me in?”
He took the beers and stepped aside. “Sure. Come in.”
I did and left my jacket and helmet at his wardrobe and picked up his coffee taking a sip. We went to the living room and I let myself down on one of his huge seats. “She left,” I sighed.
“Clever girl – she, not you,” he nodded and put the beers at the table. “Have one if you like.”
“Nice jab,” I gritted my teeth opening one of the cans and swallowing the effervescing beer. I was not fond of beer at all but I found it suited the situation. Bitter.
“If you’re hoping for someone to fondle your butt, you are at the wrong address here. I’ve seen you do everything to deserve it and I told you in advance, that you’d screw it. But talking to you is sometimes nothing but a waste of air. I still don’t get why you started to behave like this. What did she do wrong?”
I shrugged and took another big sip. “Quote — not my biz — unquote. Your words?” I scoffed, taking the chance to avoid talking about Manuel and the jealousy I felt as I was still not ready to accept my feelings for myself.
“Good point,” he grinned opening a can for himself. “Sláinte,” he murmured and had a sip. “Any chance it’s coming up roses again?”
I shook my head slightly. This was a question I had asked myself but I had not much hope. More honestly: none.
“Shit. Being stuck in the middle between you is not an exciting prospect.”
“I’m so sorry for you,” I deadpanned.
“Yep, me too,” Richy agreed without any irony. “To see you bitching around is no fun. I was thinking a lot about banging both your heads together.”
“Perhaps you should have done it.”
“Perhaps… Hm, I found a substitute for this night and I won’t have to work. So if you feel like pissing the night away I’m all for it. I got a nice Irishman.”
“Whiskey?” I asked with a bit of disgust.
“Don’t like, don’t drink,” he said as dry as a bone as he went for the bottle and two glasses.
“It’s spirits at least,” I smirked.
He filled our glasses and I had a careful sip. The strong spirit was burning my throat and I could feel its heat rising from it all the way down along my gullet.
“Uhh,” I tapped against my chest.
“Pussy,” he teased me.
“You’re so darn bright,” I laughed slightly and was happy he was around to give me company and distract me from my thoughts. His stuff was really not bad for a Whiskey. One could get adapted. We changed the topic and talked about this and that while perfectly avoiding anything that could lead us back to Sasha again.
I was not used to pure spirits at all and I finally got so fucking boozed up that I dozed away in my boots. Let’s hear it for merciful sedation.
The day after was awful. But not as awful as getting sober again and seeing the rubble of my former happiness. I distracted myself as successfully as I could, throwing myself into activity during a few days.
I spent my time in the library studying like a good student. I spent hours at the dojo training and visited some people I had disregarded for too long. I simply avoided my flat the best I could. If I returned there it was already late and I was worn out, so I could go directly to bed. Though dead and gone sleep eluded me.
The walls reminded me of our happy laughter that had echoed so often and my bed was far too big without her. No way I would be able to stand the weekend here watching how she would gather up and move her things out. It did not come to my mind to take this chance to have a word with her. Well, it came – but my strategy was different. Bury the shit as deep as it will go and forget about it. Out of sight, out of mind. A simple and empirically proven concept as I had applied to it often.
It was not, but 1.000 repetitions makes it one truth and I was fairly trained in convincing myself. As the weekend arrived I packed my camping gear early in the morning and headed for the next biker rally. Fortunately, during this season of the year, there was always a rally somewhere during the weekends.
At about noon I arrived at a large field that looked like a lawn. The place was already halfway occupied by a mess of tents. A stage had been built and a large tent set up close to the side of the stage. I drove onto the lawn searching for a place to build my camp and I chose some slightly higher terrain not too close to the stage.
After I finished my setting up, I walked around the place having a look around. Lots of bikes everywhere a colorful güvenilir casino chaos of tents and a never ending stream of new arrivals. The organizing MC did a good job. Lots of wood for campfires were spread out in piles all over the place and some fires were already burning. They organized a big barbecue and piled up enough beer barrels for days. To sum it up everything was well-prepared to get the party started.
It was a pleasant atmosphere. Whether they wore colors or not all of these people shared their devotion for bikes, so it was easy to have a nice talk about the bikes. I felt fine walking around and having a look at the different machines. I was attracted by a Moto Guzzi parked at a tent right in front of me. The same model as I drove. The owner was a tall guy, probably in his mid thirties.
He was tattooed all over and wore engineer boots, leather trousers and jacket, a black JD. t-shirt and a filthy jeans waistcoat, showing his colors. Something with skeleton hands waving pistons and a lot of patches — in between a 1%. His long hair was tied back into a ponytail and his face showed a growth of beard. He was obviously no poser. I did not pay much attention to him as I had a closer look at his bike.
“You changed for bigger carbs,” I said without turning to him as I admired the polished Dellortos which could breathe freely through an open intake pipe not hindered by any kind of air filter. Just a rough sieve to prevent bird strike.
“Yep, that’s it mainly,” he chuckled as his bike was in fact completely customized. Long slender polished aluminum tank, single seat, broader rear tire etcetera pebe.
“I see,” I grinned broadly turning towards him. “I ride the same model though not as cool as yours. That is an awesome bike.”
“Thanks. It took me a while. I’m Vinny,” he nodded scanning me from head to tail. “So you’re not just one of the back seat decorations, right?”
“Nope,” I shook my head. “I’m Chris.”
We wasted at least an hour or so talking about our bikes. I showed him mine as he was keen on seeing it and he gave me some advice about where to get good deals for spare parts. It was a good time and for a while, I forgot about what I had left behind. I was feeling that it was a pretty good idea for me to come here. As we separated he invited me to hang around with his guys in the evening if I would like to.
I thanked him for his invitation and carried on checking out the place. Suddenly someone called out my name. I turned around and saw a girl approaching me. I was certain I had seen her face before but I had no idea where.
“How are you doing? Do you have enough air in your tires this time?” she asked with a friendly smile.
I remembered suddenly though she had changed a lot. Her formerly long blond hair was cut very short at one side and stood upright the length of a finger on the other. The piercing in her upper lip was also new to me. I recognized that she was still wearing the same nice smile and blazing blue eyes.
It had been on one of my first longer tours I had a flat back tire. She came along and helped me out. On Sundays there was no hope to get it fixed therefore she invited me to stay for the night and promised to help me to get a new tire the next day. We made out that night though it came to nothing serious afterward. I had not seen her ever since and now she suddenly stood right in front of me. What was her name by the way?
Her smile became even broader: “Aw, you remember! That’s great.”
She hugged me and pecked my cheek as if the last time we met was yesterday. But it did not feel awkward at all. She was friendly and helpful as I had gotten to know her and it seemingly had not changed.
“I see you’re still riding. Who are you here with?” she wanted to know.
“I’m on my own. And you?”
“Me too. I planned to go with a friend but his bike is broken.”
“His?” I asked grinning.
“Yeah, his,” she smirked. “So how about us hanging out together? It would be much more fun than on our own, I think. Unless you prefer to stay on your own.”
I thought about it for a second. Not long enough to make her think, though. The corpse of Sasha’s and my relationship had not even grown cold but I was already about to hook up with another girl. What kind of a slut had I become?
I decided to skip answering this question until later or never and answered Rose quickly: “No, I’m all for it. Should we put our tents together? I have mine up over there.” I pointed up to the direction of my camp.
“Great. Let’s get it done before everything is occupied over there.”
We went up to her place and moved her stuff to my camp. We set up her tent so that it sat at an angle from mine. Both entrances were facing the place in front. Set up this way we would have a bit more privacy. In addition, we piled up some firewood on the opposite side of our tiny yard and built our own fire place.
During our work, we chatted about what had happened since our last encounter and I managed to avoid bringing Sasha up at all. In fact, Rose was chatting enough for the both of us and I was glad about everything that distracted and occupied me. She was a cheerful person, a fact I appreciated a lot. Her company was soothing and I was thankful to whoever had sent her.
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