I shouldn't overthink this, but this place has a comfort of its own. The fresh air, high walls, few people around, and the dolls. Sometimes it feels like every architect shares the same brain. Most of the structures look very different from the outside but still have the same way of arranging the insides.
"Hey, look, this one is beautiful."
"Yeah, it is."
Nowadays, Sam and I are already good friends. Hanging out every day has become a daily routine in our lives—talking on the phone all day, going out together to get some fresh air, grocery shopping, and splurging on fancy items for ourselves. She feels like a childhood friend I've never been separated from. Even though it's only been a few weeks, it's become a regular thing for both of us.
Not only that, but these days my time with Nathan also seems to be changing, or at least that's what he told me. I don't know how much of it is accurate, but I've been feeling happy lately. It's not like he and I are on bad terms, but before, our daily routine was always the same—waking up, making breakfast, being alone during lunch, cleaning the house until evening, and finally, our playful sex.
Even the sex had started feeling boring. I knew we needed a change. A relationship feels stuck when you don't have anything new to do after a while. Life feels like a loop; you get into habits, sometimes get frustrated because of it, but feel like you can't do anything about it. So what would you do? If you're smart enough, you'll talk with your partner, and if you're not, you'll give up on them. I totally like the idea of—
"Hey, look at this. This one is even prettier than the one before."
"Didn't you tell me you had been here before? Then was that a lie or something?"
"I didn't lie. I've been here about a hundred times, but it's my first time coming here with a friend."
"What about your girlfriend? Don't you go out with her often?"
"We used to, but she's very busy because of her job, and I don't want to make her more stressed."
"You can talk to me if you want to let something out."
"Thanks, but I guess it's just the weather and nothing else."
I would have believed it if it were true, but something wasn't right. She looked down and briefly made a disappointed face, then started talking again with a smile, rubbing her left arm. I could tell she wasn't feeling well. I couldn't tell if it was my question or her heels. Maybe she's still uncomfortable with me discussing something so private in her life. I should leave her be and avoid bringing up anything that might ruin her mood.
I don't want to do this; keeping secrets from him makes me a little sad. I don't know what to do; he's so emotional and soft. But who am I lying to? I am the wrong one here. I never try to understand her completely, and I make her feel uncomfortable. And the incident that happened the other night was something I shouldn't have done.
After work, making breakfast should be my priority before she wakes up, but I always get so sleepy. The night shift always leaves me exhausted, but I can't do anything about it. The other day, my hand even got burned while frying some nuggets for her. The fatigue lowered my shoulders; I closed my eyes for a bit, and the next thing I knew, I had burnt my hand.
She walked in and looked at my hand. I was trying so hard to suppress my scream of pain. Her face was filled with anger—the usual expression she makes when I do something wrong. I should have learned from my mistakes, but I keep repeating them. Sometimes it seems I do it on purpose, or so she says. Maybe it's actually true. I have always let her down in every way.
"You spilled the ration again. And on top of that, where is my food? I have to go to work."
"I am sorry, but I guess I can't make breakfast now. Please, can you eat bread and tea today?"
"I don't know how many times I have to repeat this: you are worthless."
"Please forgive me, I promise this won't happen next time."
"Just leave it, I know you never learn from your mistakes. I will eat at a cafe. Just do yourself a favor and clean the house. I don't want to see this mess when I come home."
Not only that, but the other night when we were in bed, she told me she had something new for me. She opened the box with so much happiness, and I was curious—could it be a dress? Does she want to try a new roleplay?
"Tadaaaa."
"Th-Th-That is a dildo."
"That's right, now turn around."
She was so excited when she told me about it, but I didn't want to do it. Using objects actually scares me. I didn't want to ruin her mood, but I also didn't want to do something like this.
"Julia, I don't like this. Please, can we just do it simply?"
"I am not asking you. I am telling you. TURN AROUND."
I was scared of the look on her face. I didn't want to, but I knew I should do it if it made her happy. I turned around, and she inserted it. She started licking me, and I forced a smile and moaned after that. Around 4 a.m., when Julia had finally gone to sleep, I pulled it out in the bathroom. She had told me not to take it out until I spoke. I was in pain; my hip was hurting, and my legs were trembling. I couldn't even sit or stand properly. That night, I was crying. I came back to bed, but it all hurt so much that I couldn't sleep.
I don't want to share anything about Julia with Dylan. He is a nice friend, but telling your relationship problems to other people will only destroy everything. You always need to keep private conversations to yourself and your partner. If I share it with him, then how can I call myself a good girlfriend?
"Hey, look over there! My favorite one—the toy train."
We both walked towards it, and as I got closer, I could see that there was nothing special. It was a simple train—a black engine with passenger boxes that were blue with yellow stripes, just rolling around in a circular path. We had walked down from the first floor to here. There were many different types of dolls there, and many wall paintings too, but she said this was her favorite. It was placed at the perfect spot to be viewed from the outside. We didn't even need to come in if we only wanted to see this.
But it was her favorite—I could see that clearly.
Her white teeth were visible as she smiled; her bright, big eyes were fixed on it, and her hands were resting on the table near the train. Her face showed pure curiosity, her lips slightly pressed, stretching her cheeks softly. Her expression made me curious. I wanted to ask her about it, but I didn't know if it would be good to say anything since she wasn't entirely comfortable with me yet.
"Hey, do you know why I like this?"
"..."
"Because it gives me comfort. A sense of peace, a politeness I feel when it moves in a circular direction. Watching those wheels, so elegant as the axle that joins them moves back and forth... it's a feeling you want to keep with yourself until your last breath."
"Is it really that important to you?"
"When I was in 5th class, our teacher gave us an assignment for the holidays. My best friend Lyla and I spent our whole summer vacation making something that would blow everyone's mind. But no matter what we tried to make, we always failed. Sometimes we stuck our hands together, and sometimes everything slid off the base plate. Then one night, we thought of making a unique space shuttle. We used foil wraps, thermocol, sticky papers, and every unique thing we could find to make it look extravagant and different from the others. We were able to finish it before our holidays ended, but just when we thought everything was done, I had the idea of giving it a sweet smell. I took my mom's perfume and sprayed it all over it. But then—"
"It caught fire, right?"
"Huh? How did you know that?"
"I was just guessing. You said you made it look unique, so I thought you might have inserted a small light bulb in it to make it glow, but forgot to check a few precautions, causing it to catch fire."
"It wasn't that predictable! How did you even come up with that guess? Had I told you this story before?"
"No, you haven't. But the main question still lurks: where is the toy train in all of this?"
"After that incident, we both got zero marks for our summer holiday project. We were very sad and cried, refusing to leave our beds. Then, our fathers came to our room and surprised us with a train set. It was the coolest thing we had ever owned. After that, we stopped crying, and all the tension disappeared from our minds. That was the happiest day of my life. I still miss that time."
"So, where is your friend now? Are you still in touch?"
"No, our friendship ended in 8th grade. We haven't met each other since."
"Why? What happened?"
A complete silence fell from her side. It wasn't even for a brief moment; I waited for her response for a couple of minutes. It was like I had opened something inside her without even knowing. She had been so joyful while telling the story, but now she was quiet, not even lifting her eyes. It was the kind of embarrassment you feel when you reveal a promise you made to yourself—something that was never meant to be shared. A feeling of losing the values you had set for yourself. The topic wasn't a problem in itself, but the whole scenario was.
Wait a minute, why am I thinking too much? Is it even related to me? Maybe I am overthinking. I shouldn't let my mind get stressed because of it. Plus, if I correctly remember, she was the one who wanted to tell me about it. First, she made me curious, then she got upset, and what about me? I didn't even get to hear the ending. I feel like I am stuck on a book that has blank white pages. The story is there, but I can't read it. Well, it doesn't mean I have the authority to know everything; it's her life. She's the main character of her own story, and I don't have a choice. Wait—
I suddenly grabbed her wrist and took her outside. She was confused, but I think I knew what she needed.
"Hmmphhhhhh. So tasty, thank you! I was craving a burger for so long. I am sorry I suddenly went silent back in there. I wanted to eat something but didn't know how to say it."
"Relax and eat."
"Oh yeah, the story! I should finish what happened after that."
"You don't need to. I just endured a very big monologue of yours, and now my ears are tired. I think we should call it a day."
"Already? But it's not even 4:00."
Again, she made that pouting face. I always feel annoyed when I see this kind of cringeworthy activity. I don't have any right to judge, but it's just my behavioral pattern to respond to things like this. Now what should I do? I am actually tired of roaming around that doll museum, and after this, we have to go grocery shopping. Guess I have no choice.
"Okay, fine. Let's roam around a bit more, but only for 45 minutes. After that, we need to buy rations. I also need to go to work."
She nodded with a cute smile. I instantly grabbed my phone and took a photo of her.
"Hey! Why did you do that?"
"Now I am going to use it every time you blabber too much."
She turned red, hiding her face under the tablecloth. It's really fun teasing her.
"Okay, let's go now."
The sun was so bright. It was about time for the notification to pop up, meaning we would have to go back soon. In an instant, something grabbed my attention in the lake. Two swans looked cute together as they softly bumped their heads, making a heart shape. As I was thinking, she spoke to me.
"Look at those swans, how cute they are."
"Yeah, they are."
"Let's take a photo of them with us. What do you say?"
"I am a bit camera-shy, so, you know, maybe we can drop the idea—"
"Oh, just come here!"
She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her. Our heads suddenly bumped into each other, and we both felt a sharp pain, crying out in unison.
"Ouch! I told you I didn't want a selfie. Let's grab a place to sit."
We walked towards a bench, patting our heads. She is clumsy sometimes, and sometimes she is so mature. It feels like I am watching two sides of her personality at the same time.
"Is your head still hurting?"
"No, it's fine now."
"I am sorry for bumping into you."
"Don't feel bad, and stop saying sorry every time."
"Well, let's enjoy the weather for a couple more minutes and then go home."
Watching her like this, I have to admit she always looks pretty from the left side. Not only that, but the way she is dressed today—her soft hair, her bright eyes, the red coat she is wearing with black buttons, and the mini skirt underneath. I can say one thing: she has a really good sense of fashion. She even applies her makeup in an astonishingly perfect way. Her foundation blends seamlessly with her skin, and her red lipstick makes her lips look so plump. I don't know why I'm thinking like this, but she is already perfect in her own way. These soft hands... does she do makeup on her hands too?
"Here, have half of it."
I looked at it with question as she took a waffle out of her bag. I had never tried them before, as they didn't look like anything special to me. But anyway, trying new things won't hurt you—though it might hurt your pocket.
*Bite*
It was fantastic. It was so creamy and tasty; it felt like I was eating hot ice cream. So delicious. It reminded me of the time when Nathan and I went on our first date together. I was so happy because I was officially dating a gay man and had nothing to hide from anyone. He treated me like a gentleman—pulled out my chair, asked me what I wanted to eat, and poured me a glass of water. It was the first time I experienced what a real date feels like. It felt like he was a pro at it. Many boys could have come into his life before me. I had been nervous, wondering if I was even a good choice for him. I asked him if it would be okay if we lived like this. He replied in a gentle but hesitant manner. His hands were shaking, and his head moved down toward the table. He joined his hands and went into deep thought. Finally, some words came out of his mouth.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then we have nothing to be scared of. But promise me one thing: we will always support each other, no matter what."
He held my hands, and I saw him trembling; his eyes were about to water. He was leaning toward me. At that moment, I understood something. He wasn't entirely confident. He was scared and didn't know how to handle the situation. He was just like me in that moment, acting tough from the outside but terrified of society on the inside. At that point, I knew what to do. I held his hands tightly and said, "Don't worry, we are in this together, and we will figure things out together."
And now it's been 8 years since that moment. We are living like a real couple. We have many issues, but we always overcome them together. No matter how bad things get, we will never break our bond.
All of these thoughts made me lose track of time. She was sleepy, her head leaning onto me.
"I am so sorry, I am just feeling dizzy."
"Well, who wouldn't? The air is so soft, the grass looks greener than usual, the waves move back and forth, and the silence from the crowd is perfect. It all fits well."
As I was saying it, she fell back asleep. Not only her, but I also felt a bit dizzy. My eyes were tired, my shoulders went loose, my jaw dropped, and I—
[Before he knew it, he had also gone into a deep sleep. She slept on his shoulder while he comforted himself by resting his head on hers. She clung to him, leaning in to find comfort like a baby grabbing its mother. The breeze really was good. The next thing that happened when she woke up, she saw both her arms were wrapped tightly around his.]
The first thing I saw as soon as I woke up was his sleepy face. My head was leaning on his shoulder, and my arms were tightly holding him. He was still sleeping, showing no signs of waking up. The sun was already setting; I could tell it was around 6:00 p.m. The pole lights were already glowing, and bugs were flying around us. Waking him up in this position might be rude, but honestly, I didn't want to wake him. His breathing was shallow; I could hear it. His calm expression as he inhaled the air, his heartbeat feeling so soothing... it gave me a sense of comfort I hadn't felt since I was a kid sleeping tightly next to someone. His sand-colored trench coat with black buttons rubbing against me was a feeling of safety I didn't want to leave.
Not only had the whole day been wonderful, but every afternoon we spent together lately had felt so relaxing. I find myself smiling all the time nowadays. He is the greatest friend I have in my life. But I have to leave him now; we both have to go home and get back to our realities until a new afternoon comes.
As I tried to sit up properly, his other hand gripped me. Is he really sleeping? Does he have a sleeping tendency of grabbing onto someone, just like I do? Now I think maybe a minute or two won't hurt either of us. I can see his arms are soft and neat. He is warm like a blanket in winter. Everything is perfect right now. Was he really this handsome from the start, or is it just my imagination? I can't tell, but seeing him like this—his eyes closed, ears red, and that drooling mouth...
"Ewwww."
He remained asleep even after I moved away. Okay, so it wasn't like he was intentionally grabbing me. Well, it was a relief, but also brought a bit of sadness. I started cleaning my clothes and tidying my hair. These bugs are starting to annoy me. We need to go before it gets any later.
I was about to wake him, but he woke up on his own. As he stretched his body, he looked at me. I pointed out the drool on his mouth. He wiped it off with his coat, and I felt a little cringe at that.
"Whoa, what's the time now? How late are we?"
"It's already 6:27 p.m. We might be late getting home."
"Well, I told you it was a bad idea! Now it will take my whole night to prepare dinner."
"I'm sorry, but I wasn't the only one who slept."
"I even have to buy groceries now, but there's nothing we can do about it. Sorry for getting annoyed at you."
"Why don't we walk to the market together?"
"What?"
"You said you need to buy groceries. Let's go, I'll help you."
"But don't you have to go back home? Your partner must be worrying about you."
"He might be late tonight. I'll help you with the groceries, and then I'll leave for home."
"Okay, if it suits you."
Well, at least because of this, I can spend a little more time with him.
"Not this one. No, not this one either. Aren't there any good girls left in the world? If I don't find someone else, I'll have to stay with her. Uhhhhh, she is such a headache."
"I am back."
"Oh, so here comes the madam. Enjoying yourself like you just got a bonus, I see."
She said it with a smirk. Arms crossed, a face full of anger—the exact gesture she gives me whenever she is about to hit me.
*Slap*
The very thing I was afraid of, she just did it.
"I am sorry, I know I am very late. I will prepare dinner quickly and get to my job."
As I tried to walk past her, she suddenly grabbed my hair, pulling it with immense strength. My head hurt so much it felt like it was about to explode. I tried grabbing her hand to loosen the grip, but she pulled even tighter than before.
"AAaahhhhhh! AAaahhhhh! AAAAAhshhhhh!"
"It's my house, so you don't get to dictate when the food will be prepared or when you get to go out!"
"I am sorry, I am sorry! I will not do this again."
She let go of my hair, and I wasn't even able to stay on my feet. It hurt so much. I made her angry again. I should have been more careful. I know how her anger is, yet I still make the mistakes she hates. As I adjusted my hairband, I saw too many broken strands of hair. I couldn't even see them clearly because my eyes were entirely filled with tears.
"Take your bag and go to your job. I will order something for myself. You don't even earn much anyway. Can't you do something profitable for me? You barely bring in money, and you can't even come home on time. I don't know what to do with you."
"I am so sorry."
"Starting the same shit again. Don't you get tired of saying it? Sorry this, sorry that, sorry, sorry, sorry. I am tired of your apologies! Start correcting yourself and get up from this vulgar act of sorrow. Sometimes I feel like screaming at you isn't enough. You need a good beating."
*Slap* *Slap* *Slap*
"Now get your shit together and leave. I don't want to be the reason you're late. And wait a minute, doesn't your shift start at 8:00?"
"Ye—Ye-Yes."
"And you are coming home at 8:15."
"What should I—"
*Slap*
"Get ready and leave the house. And listen, take a leave tomorrow. I bought some new toys for you. Be ready tomorrow night."
I am not crying, I am not crying, I swear I am not crying. But it hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much. My hair is completely tangled. My face is all red. My lips are dry. I can't stop shaking. I grabbed my head with one hand and used the other to wipe away my tears. It feels so embarrassing. I always make her angry, always make her embarrassed. She has to carry the burden of my failures. Do I not have a brain? Why can't I do a single thing correctly?
I tried to get up, but my legs wouldn't support me. I clung to the wall and started limping toward my room. I took off my clothes and looked in the mirror. The scars on my body run deep. I couldn't stop my tears from falling. But I have to leave before it's too late. They will fire me, and then I will become an even bigger burden to her.
I took some fresh clothes from the wardrobe and unfolded them. I even have a bad mark on my mouth because after she hit me, she kissed me and bit my lips. I didn't have the courage to stop her; she was just trying to be romantic. What can I even say to her? Not this outfit, not that one either... I should wear something simple and long-sleeved. I put on my black hoodie and full pajamas. I wore them and applied a little makeup to hide the bruising. No one should see it, or else they will ask stupid questions about how I got it. Can't people just leave someone alone? I hate it when my coworkers ask. People like that aren't actually interested in you; they just try to start a spicy conversation out of someone else's pain so they can laugh about it later. Yes, everyone is like that; there are no exceptions. At least, that's what Julia says.
"Hmmm, what's that smell?"
I sniffed my wrist, and it carried the exact same scent as Dylan's perfume. I guess my scrunchie caught it while I was leaning against him. I smelled it again and again. I felt an instant wave of relief, relaxation, and all my stress vanished. I can honestly admit it now—I am crying.
But now, I feel a sudden silence within me. I am smiling just like before. I grabbed my bag and went out for my part-time job. It was as if I had completely forgotten what just happened. I apologized to Julia one last time and ran out the door. No matter what happens, as long as I can find a reason to smile, I can forget everything. Maybe I was just taking things too seriously. Next time, I will take more care before going out and make sure to update Julia before I come back.
[As she runs down the street, she is sad, but she still holds onto a tiny faith in the smile hidden somewhere inside herself. Nothing happened tonight. That's what she finally told herself.]