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The Strength, With Which I Live Further — My Final Twentieth Story

The last of the three stories in the life of twenty three years old me — about the strength, which helped me to transform myself. About the strength, which let me to not to become broken and live further.

Late evening. I barely dragged my legs because of fatigue — when I opened the door of the room, I had the strength left to only look at its gray dull walls and realize, that this place will become my shelter for an indefinite time. I collapsed to the floor in the same clothes, in which I had walked kilometers, dragging two heavy bags on my shoulders, — everything I had — and fell asleep after a couple of seconds.

I can not say, how much I slept, — several hours, days, weeks, half a year — but when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a different place. A computer was turned on in front of me — and there were dozens of messages on the screen. I read one after another — and did not know, what to answer to the simplest questions: I did not know, what to answer even to myself, how I am and where I am now. The first message, the second, the third — it amazes, when even those, with whom you lost contact several years ago, get in touch with you. But it is even more amazing to learn about the significance of the stories, that you keep inside yourself for two years, for other people.

Still trying to understand where I was, I began to look around — and after a second, I could not believe my eyes. A locker was in front of me with a candle and an old camera on it, filming my own guitar. It had a great importance to me a year and a half ago — when I was ready to be heard. ¿How did it all appear here?

I closed my eyes — after blowing out the candle, images of hundreds of memories flashed in my head after the moment, when I did it for the first time. Suddenly, I heard a scream, that I had already heard once before — and abruptly opened my eyes. My heart skipped a beat — I could not believe it as well. It was a piano — the one, on which I played the same keys exactly a year ago, when I understood, what I wanted to do in life, but still did not know how. ¡¿How did it all appear here?! ¡¿How?!

There was absolute silence — I sat down on a chair and began to play that same melody. It was primitive, but I still have not learned to play something else. It was painful to see everything, that was in front of my eyes — and it was painful to hear, what I was playing. Not because of the objects or sounds themselves, but because of the fact, that I have not gone further, than all this — beyond the cabinet with the old camera and such a primitive melody on such an instrument, as a piano.

Each person has his own events, that broke him throughout his life. But to face all thisa does not mean to become broken. On the contrary, going through this makes it possible to formulate your own conclusions from what has happened, your own beliefs and values, your own guides in later life. Even better is when a person understands, what helped him get through breaks without becoming broken. And I know, what helped me: the realization, that unfortunate events in life happen to any person and that everyone needs to face their misfortune at such moments without hiding behind a «socially accepted» mask with a fake smile; that wherever you are, — in the USA, in Russia, or elsewhere — it is important to be true to your own system of values ​​and beliefs formed thanks to the best of many different cultures; that even if you were dishonorably betrayed by those, whom you trusted and loved most of all, and life turned its most ugly sides towards you, your greatest strength is not to betray in your turn, not to turn your most ugly sides towards others, and to be honest with yourself in any circumstances. All my eighteen stories, all the nineteenth story — absolutely everything in them is true, from the first to the last word. I remained honest with myself and with others despite of everything I encountered — and, thanks to this force incomparable with anything else, I am still not broken.

Suddenly, my hand slipped off — and I heard something new. This melody was primitive as well, but now, I wanted to continue — I felt, that this was the continuation, that I had been looking for the whole last year. As if blindly, with caution, I pressed the first keys, the following keys… Until I was pierced.

The image of Vavn Dorokhin with a pierced look.

The universe got together, and I understood everything, that I had been thinking about for the last two years.