The trip — First Chapter (English Version)

After that news, I was helpless. It was not surprising, but at the same time, it was frustrating. All that effort dissolved into dust, when I finally left that apartment, after a night that had been a circus of horrors. I saw that it was sunny, a warm day, a truly wonderful sky, the temperature should be around 28 degrees Celsius, it was a pleasant day.

However, I felt that I was in a nightmare, one that didn’t match the scenario. To think that on that occasion I would be traveling with Esmeralda, trying to save the unsavable (sic). It was around 11:20 a.m, and I was getting ready to leave Nikit City. There would be a path to travel more than 30 kilometers, in which he would use public transport. Getting to my city would be a trip that Sunday.

The first love is unforgettable, especially when it is reciprocated. However, this is not a love story. Dear reader, settle down, we are on the boat Nikit City x Rio de Janeiro, we will have an arduous path, and after that the subway and then an Uber. Today trains only pass every hour.

Esmeralda is gone, it’s funny that she never let me touch the door handle because she said that going out using your own hands meant ending. Ironically, it was over, but she would not allow me to do so. That old white Poodle, sometimes grumpy from her mother, who I liked so much, came to me as if she knew it was goodbye.

After more than 3 hours, I got home. My mother already knew. Esmeralda had thanked her. When I viewed my cell phone, I saw that she had sent a message: “Did you arrive well? How are you?” I answered yes and asked the same, with the answer: “I am, as much as possible”.

I was very naive, I disturbed the poor girl to continue the conversation. In fact, I was too immature. I still wanted to understand what was going on, but she kept silent and didn’t answer me. No matter what I sent, there were no more answers. The curtain closed abruptly, she was ending one more relationship, and I was trying to understand the end of my relationship.

At the time, I communicated what happened to Marcos, a friend of the times when I was studying in the Political Science course at UFF, and to Tom, the one who had introduced me to Esmeralda. Comically, no one was surprised about what happened. In fact, everyone expected us to be back in three days. Even contradicted this statement, it was believed that we were overly passionate.

Tom was fighting with Esmeralda. Since her breakup with her ex, many of her former friends had branded her hysterical. Even the girls seemed to have taken his side. Bizarrely, Rafael was far from being handsome, athletic, or even notable, he just lived in a mansion and was so unresolved with his sexual orientation. After high school, the boy who had been homophobic had become pansexual in college, betraying the woman who will always support him.

Esmeralda has always lived in a cycle of disappointments and betrayals. Obviously, holding her hand also meant inheriting conflict. Tom liked to call Marcos and me “horns”. I didn’t like those kidding, however, I endured them. After that, I meditated, I was too devoted to that, so I decided to choose humor and I sang: “I’m so lonely” by Akon, and I felt like handsome cattle. The pain was still there…

Therefore, when words were not enough, when there were no ears and when there was no voice to represent them, I remembered that I could appoint an attorney. One, who would not judge me, would not make me inferior or make this process more painful. The college copybook, that container of knowledge, would also become that of bitterness.

I had written my first poem after 3 years. I realized that, in addition to begging for answers from someone who had buried me, maybe I could write a poem a day, consecutively, for a month, and then perform their burial. The flames would consume the containers, and finally, the cycles would be closed.

Two weeks after this plan, I receive a message in a WhatsApp group in which Marcos, Tom, and I were. We talked normally until the latter explained to me that everything was back to normal, including Esmeralda’s love life. I was confused since it didn’t concern me, however, after the bait, I was curious to know who it was. I will not fool you that I was pissed off because of the description of the facts and because our photo was still featured on her social network profile.

When I heard about it, I made a point of asking Esmeralda to remove that photo from the highlights. You must be thinking that I’m wrong. Well, maybe I was, but I wouldn’t want to have my image aligned with someone who was doing certain things. I already had enough weight on my shoulders, I didn’t need any more on my head. Well, that is not important, the fact is that that day I received an email in which it could be read: “Hello,… we inform you that due to the payment of half the value of the hosting, we would like to know when you will execute your reservation? We clarify that we will continue to manage the hotel until the last week of June, in addition, unfortunately, we cannot refund the amount previously paid…”

At that moment, I could cancel everything and lose 50% of the reservation or venture out into the Alps alone. It was funny because I had just left my internship to work in the most popular research group in my course, in which I only received blames about my mediocre academic writing, that is, I was broke, sad, and now pissed off.

After reviewing the options. I found out I was in the shit. Therefore, it was better to lose the other half of the money by going to an inhospitable and ultra-romantic place than staying at home. I promptly replied to the e-mail: “Dear all… I would like to book my reservation for the last week of June 2018…”

Well, I still had a month to go, I needed to save money and try to find someone who wanted to go on a free trip to the Alps from Friday to Sunday. I will say that it didn’t work out, apparently, people work and/or study, not to mention that we were in the World Cup season.

Three weeks later, specifically, on a Saturday, I was getting ready for my first postdating encounter, brokered by an app for this purpose. The night before, I had burned all the poems. For the first time, I felt peaceful and happy. Until that… I look at a publication by Tom. Moreover, there he was, hugging Esmeralda at an academic congress of Political Science. I quickly questioned him:

— I did not understand. You spoke and speak very badly of her, and now that she is single, have you remembered that you are her friend? A very interesting attitude.

Tom replied:

— I don’t owe you any satisfaction.

Amid this situation, I felt compelled to give one assertive answer:

— You’re a liar. He attacks people and soon becomes friends with them, I don’t intend to be friends with people like you!

Marcos took the pain and came to answer that:

— Maybe he changed his mind.

At that moment I remembered the cynicism, the same that affected Esmeralda previously was being granted to me. Unlike her, I did not have a short memory. I would not live a cycle like that and I would not submit myself to accept a doubtful attitude. Then I answered Marcos:

— I find it curious, two weights and two measures. He takes the action of one way when she is single and another when she is engaged. I am not a friend of a liar or of person who supports people who act in this way!

Without delay, I saw that the answers given were the same as those given to her. All my sacrifice writing and burning each poem has become empty. I was lost again. I went on a date being rotten inside. The girl was not my type, however, she was a good person, after that, I thought about being her friend, at least that I could be.

A few weeks passed. There were 9 days left for the big trip to the Alps. A solitary journey, under a cold below 12º degrees Celsius. That day, I usually took the bus to college, now I was leaving home and not working. I saw that I lacked money. Damn, I would have to walk miles to get the money. Altogether, I lost 30 minutes. I arrived at the bus, very sweaty, sat on the high seat, put my phone on, and entered my world.

Some points passed, until a duo, like a comedy series, got on the bus. Literally, a fat man and a thin man. In fact, they were notable subjects, mainly because they carried a loaded pistol. They were also well organized, while the skinny guy surrendered the driver, the overweight boy tried to jump the turnstile, on the third try, he finally succeeded.

I had hidden the phone, but I thought:

— Who the fuck doesn’t have a cell phone? You will deliver this old crap, but the rest will not be done. Fuck him! So I put the watch away.

Then our flight attendant passed collecting the belongings like a vacuum cleaner, afterwards, they jumped at one point. The driver led us to a police booth. There, I ran to call the police. After notifying him, our hero ran after the criminal, while trying to tie the belt on which the gun was. Such an act resembled his way of walking with that of a crab, at an amazing speed of possible 5 kilometers per hour.

At this point, you must be wondering if I went to the police station. I was sweaty and late, I went to class normally. I used the cell phone of a woman who had not been mugged, she kindly lent it to me. Later, the kind girl gave me a few lines on Messenger. In fact, there is no free lunch.

Yeah, I was pretty fucked up. When I got home, my dad offered to borrow his cell phone so I could go on this damn trip. Some coincidences were interesting, as the fact that the gym I attended before dating was now broke, the bar too, even the party I tried to go to had been canceled. On top of that, I had no money and no cell phone.

Well… It’s time to board this bus. At least in this, I will not be assaulted. Let’s go to the Alps, go up with me, we still have a long history to cover.

Romance based on real facts

All characters and places had their names changed.

Author: Matheus B. S. Brandão

Reviewer: Gabriel A. Correia