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Hello everyone! My name is Bulat. I am living in Buryatia.
Writing is one of my hobbies. I know that for the time being I can not claim to be a good writer, but I try very hard.
I love to read Haruki Murakami. My favorite bands are Linkin Park and Alt-J.
I think that`s all.
Covid-19 is a terrible pandemic that has managed to cover the whole world. There have been many tragedies in the world, from the smallest personal history to crises on a global level. My story is just that little personal story that I managed to live during quarantine. In the life of every person there are people who are able to influence you, make all kinds of changes, and often the more they affect you, the more expensive they become for you. I am from a small village called the Ivolga. Mentioning village in the story, I can proudly sit on a chair, knowing that the reader from abroad will know about my Little Homeland. My family is not so rich as to allow me to live without thinking about anything to the fullest, but apart from their love and support, I do not need anything else. Honestly. Having won a competition for free tuition at one of the worst universities in the country, I just did that disappoint my parents. A few weeks after the start of study, I began to skip pairs. What was the reason? I myself don't know, but maybe I just don't want to find out. My everyday life was filled with endless games and trips to bars, which ended not in the best way, but most often with a broken face, because running into problems in the bars of my favorite city is like breathing air. Simply put, life is through the prism of glass bottles. I know this is disgusting, but I could not stop doing it. Still, a strange thing called "consequences", and especially running from the consequences, is the most difficult sport, because how many do not run away, there is only one result. By some miracle, I was able to close my first session with numerous absenteeism, promising teachers to tie up with this matter. After passing the final exam, my eyes stared at a completely unfamiliar girl in the hallway. Yes, hell, it was She. I want to forget my attempts to get to know her, they were just as absurd and stupid as the stereotypes that in Russia bears freely run around the streets. For the first time a month after meeting, she still gave up and agreed to go on a date. I still did not understand what made her mind: my perseverance or the desire to get rid of me as soon as possible. So, a spark of passionate love entered my life, which woke up a new life in me. We spent together almost every day: we walked around the city, dined together, sometimes dined, in general, enjoyed spending time with each other The most interesting thing began when we started arguing on a particular topic, as if it were replaced with a sweet and kind girl by an old politician to the bone. My thoughts were literally filled exclusively with positive thoughts, and the image of a positive person in me was so rooted that he became everything to me. I was especially struck by her reasoning about motivation and where she draws her vitality from. All these rays of kindness and light simply could not but affect me, slowly, step by step, I was transformed into a new person. When I write about her, the picture in my head becomes more distinct. The meetings with her seemed so fast to me that even the speed of light, multiplied by infinity, moved at the speed of a turtle. Each of her movements made my heart tremble, and what her smile did to me, she, like a rifle, shoots to kill, and if you were lucky enough to survive after the shot, then you will definitely have at least a month in a hospital bed. Everything would be fine, if not for one moment, namely quarantine. Our school was closed before the end of the semester, and naturally all students headed home, including her. Many people left their alma mater, at that moment I didn't even know what they were thinking: they were happy or sad, thought about more time for self-development or were expecting easy study in online quarantine. For me it was a shock. “She's leaving” was all my thoughts during the first week of quarantine. The day before her departure, we decided to meet not far from our university. It was then that I decided to confess my feelings to her, but on the day of the meeting everything went awry: I got a phone, and she suddenly had things to do. As a result, having waited 3 hours in the square, I decided to go home, but after arriving home I found out that she was busy. She left for her hometown, and I stayed here ... Someone will say: “Come on, buddy, the quarantine will end, and she will return, especially in our modern era, there are social networks.” I also thought so, they say, everything will work out, but already for several months since the beginning of quarantine she has not gone to university, to contact. I don't know what happened to her, nobody knows. Why doesn't she get in touch? Why not write to me? Why did she drop out of university? Why? I can't think anymore, I'm so tired. I want to talk to her, anyway, I have something to tell her that I do not want anything in the whole world except her. I just want to at least meet and talk ...