Viktoria Polileeva - Darina. Love story

© Viktoria Polileeva, 2019

ISBN 978-5-4496-3707-9

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

the story of the man walking towards

To tell your own story without hiding a single movement of the soul, neither good nor bad, is to relive it again. Despite the many sorrows associated with her, this is the only thing I live by. The most dear to my heart memory.

Mysterious, flashing living light diamond. Sometimes I take it out to once again be fascinated by its brilliance and again hide it in my bosom…

It all started over two years ago, in the evening in May. I remember it to the smallest details.

Dribble warm rain, crazy, carefree. With one touch, he removed all worries and blatantly lied about happiness. At the end of the street we traveled, was located a small square. His darkness was tempting to breathe freshness. I asked to stop the car and went out.

The smell of sticky leaves excited the blood. I was still desperately young!

Feeling a surge of strength, I would have swept away like a foal, on thick wet grass where the horizon is visible, to tear its boundaries.

My companion did not guess my desires. I was gloomy and taciturn. My business was serious, and I did not take off the mask. I stood under a wet tree, breathing in the spring air mixed with the smoke of my cigar, pondering one deal. But for some reason my thought this evening galloped from side to side, like my foal. pondering one deal

The rain broke, encouraged by elastic leaves.

Then I first saw her. My darling, my beauty.

In pink tights, short skirt, thin as a needle. Long hair was wet in the rain, brown eyes gazed stubbornly and cheerfully under the light bangs. She was walking with her girl – friend.

Hugging each other around the waist, the girls slapped right through the puddles.

Drunk air circled the young heads. They sang, not paying any attention to me

“They became too small for me. Your grated jeans. We have been taught for so long lo-o-o-ong …”

Wake up in the spring, sonorous birds – a mockingbird!

So it began.

Hi girls.

– Hello, crispy, – she answered, barely glancing at me with a look, – why such a handsome man? From which gypsy camp?

And they passed by, laughing and not waiting for an answer. She did not need an answer, a minx. I asked a question to make my girlfriend laugh. I did not interest her.

I got into the car.

– Follow them quietly, brother.”

We went up.

– Shall I give you a lift? Wetted at all…

She sparkled her white teeth.

– We do not sit in the cars to unfamiliar gypsies.

The girlfriend said: “Never!” – And again they laughed.

I turned directly to the blond one, finding nothing better than a hackneyed phrase:

– Can you give a phone number…

But the voice sounded strange, intermittent, I needed to know her phone before the spasms.

– Will you not regret it? – She answered with a question. Her friend snorted, bent over laughing, and so she went, holding her stomach.

The car drove slowly behind the girls. I looked at my beautiful woman silently, without looking up. She again slid on me with a cold lizard, grinned:

– Well, write, Roma

The girl was not mistaken, I am a gypsy. When I met my beauty, I turned 28 years old.

I had a bride – beautiful, like the southern night, lassie. Her name is Rada.

I dreamed of happiness doves with her, about children. And at that moment, I firmly believed, and the earth was ready to kiss, that Rada and I were two halves of one apple. Therefore, I did not have time to walk “in a painted shirt”, only until autumn. In the fall should be our wedding.

In the meantime, like any idle gypsy, drunk with young courage, dashing money and the availability of beautiful women, I allowed myself everything.

Milky rivers and sweet banks of debauchery! Everyone drank from them, I was no exception and did not hesitate to take what I wanted.

Waitresses from restaurants, whose attention could be attracted by a generous tip and kept expensive trinkets. Putany, clinging to the roadsides, excited their white skin with tattoos and independent of “prejudice” behavior. After seeing their picturesque flocks, the heart beat faster, life was felt more sharply. These Lyubasha and Anyuta so nicely brightened up with us friends with free time, were so sincere and unsophisticated.

With some, I met more than once, there was something like attachment, but quickly passed, and I forgot them.

The simplicity of relations with Russian women has never complicated me.

Why did this thin girl with wet blond hair suddenly need me more than air?

And where did my head go, so suddenly, without explaining anything?

This stolen, if she does not want, can not be achieved for any money.

Such a rare breed walks by itself and lives by its own laws.

Well, why do I need it? And let him walk… I thought myself. But it did not help. Something uncontrollable, frighteningly – sweet already enveloped my heart. I felt the power of the unknown, resisting it.

I twisted the situation and so and so, but she stubbornly did not stick in any acceptable frame for me. Soon I abandoned my vain attempts and threw out the white flag.

Old people say a person feels it right away. What happens once in my life, or never happens.. What my soul was tormented about, what mistakenly I mistook for Rada, I met that evening.

I was happy and scared. For the first time, I was not the master of the situation.

So I recognized her phone number and name. My beloved’s name, sonorous, as she herself is, Daria, Darina (as I began to call her in my own way) A gift, even in the name I saw a happy omen.

I called her the next day, worrying in earnest. I, who often looked in the face of death, lost comrades and closed my eyes to enemies, worried like a boy, dialing her number.

There was a lump in my throat that I could not swallow. I did not hope for anything, I asked her to meet.

Our first date, as the first pancake, really turned out to be a lump.

The phone was constantly ringing, she talked with someone about the upcoming session, tests, rehearsals and gates. Casually dropped that she is studying at the Institute of Culture (here, in Khimki) on a choreographer and finishing the fourth year.

In general, she was scattered, hurriedly ate a cake, refused champagne, almost forgot the rose, which I gave her and said that she was very in a hurry, melted in the door of her hostel.

Alas, I again did not cause the slightest interest in my beauty. Did not even look back, splinter! But, having coped with irritation, I decided not to retreat, no matter what happens. The next day, she also said with a sense of detachment that she was taking the exam today.

And tomorrow at the girlfriend of Lyuska’s birthday and, more likely out of politeness, (well, you want, come) invited me to celebrate this event with them.

If you already stepped into the tunnel – go boldly. There must be a clearance in front.

I came on the road estimating unfamiliar to me the situation. A room full of advanced youth. They drank wine and heatedly argued. The fashionable names of the cine and artistic world of contemporary art flashed. Students, at the time of their intellectual development.

I was out of business. And while my love was talking about Italian neo-realism and Russian art-house, I sipped marijuana at the open window.

She did not pay any attention to me at all, as if we were not acquainted, completely. She gave her attention to fellow students. By the way very unceremonious, for kisses and compliments to my beautiful. She was jealous, my hot nature resisted every touch of a strange hand to Darina, but I did not give a look and patiently waited for the denouement.