Really squeeze girls
Boys and girls with attitude
The door to Bruno's old apartment was difficult to open. You had to pull it with a jerk so that the heavy wooden part swung open and then slow it down again so that the handle did not hit the wall. A deep hole in the plasterboard behind it showed that not everyone was able to do this. Bruno's technique consisted of opening the door with a lot of impulse and immediately braking it again after changing the handle. Everything was done very well, but someone who stood in front of the door was usually surprised by the vehemence with which it was opened.
This time it was Kaspar. He wasn't surprised.
"May I come in?"
Bruno led him into the kitchen.
"Something to drink?"
Kaspar said nothing.
Bruno looked out the window: "What is it about?"
"She scares me."
"She lived with you once ..."
Bruno wondered if Gerda had left out the part about their relationship. Although maybe relationship was saying a little too much. Or too little? Bruno still couldn't answer this question exactly.
Gerda moved in with him when her boyfriend Patrick suddenly disappeared without a trace. They spent a fair amount of time together, and yes, Bruno fell in love with Gerda. Then Patrick came back. In the wheelchair. When he found out that Gerda had moved in with Bruno, he came to visit them. He let them carry him up to the apartment. Then he destroyed a few things. Finally he said they should carry him back down. Soon afterwards Gerda moved out and they lost sight of each other for a while. Bruno said hesitantly: "Did she, yes ... live with me."
"Didn't you notice anything?"
Bruno had noticed a lot. Her grace, the way she brushed her teeth, the way she combed her auburn hair, the way she combed her black hair, the way she combed her blond hair, so that she never tied her shoes, but always kept the laces so loose that she would could simply slip into them, or in the case of sports shoes that had to be tied more tightly, first tried to squeeze her feet into the shoe so that she did not have to open the laces, then usually snorted to realize that it was actually not possible, which she cursed untied the knot that had shrunk onto a pin and then tied the shoes so tightly that Bruno wondered if blood could still flow through his veins, which was obviously the case, because she hit him in most sports and her feet looked the same afterwards smooth and fresh like before. Also her brown eyes and the dark spot in the left pupil ... He put all of this in a casual shrug.
Kaspar looked at him: "Do you know what she means when she writes 'no contact, mode'?"
Bruno frowned, but before he could answer anything, Kaspar said: “Sorry. It was a mistake coming here. 'Bruno waved his hand and made some soothing noises with his mouth closed. Kaspar had already got up and left the kitchen with a nod. Bruno waited for the handle to be rammed into the wall, but Kaspar obviously had the door under control, because apart from a short squeak and Kaspar's footsteps, nothing could be heard.
Four-quarters, break, dry ash, crackling, cut with sea buckthorn, blow fir, and then I ask myself where should I go, it pulls me in all directions and when I have taken a step, a ribbon is tied around my stomach and me go on and the tape tensions more and more until I lose my grip and snap back and fall, and I rap myself up again and go somewhere else, but it's always the same, sometimes I go in several directions at the same time and then thump! Oak, half-break, crackling, brushwood.
Gerda had been living with Bruno for two days. The night after this one thing - her friend Kaspar had beaten up a guy in a fit of jealousy - she drove to Bruno's apartment and barricaded herself in her previous room. She was wearing old clothes that she had left behind. And soon they had the same disagreements as before. Gerda, for example, was annoyed by the wooden loops Bruno was working on. These were short tracks made of noises that he recorded while he was riding his mountain bike in the surrounding forests.
Bruno, on the other hand, was annoyed that Gerda pounded around the apartment and made derogatory remarks about his work.
He went into the kitchen, sat on the windowsill, and started checking his emails on his cell phone. After a while Gerda came in and said: "I'm sorry I said Waldfrickelscheisse."
Bruno said: "It's OK." He put the cell phone in his pocket and looked at her: "That would have blown me up the walls in the past, but we're not together anymore."
"Thanks, and Bruno, I really don't know why I swing around like a wrecking ball sometimes."
"You know what Miriam would say."
The sentence would have made her scratch his face minutes ago. Now she looked at the floor: “Why should I see a therapist? I went to the clinic after a drug thing like that, but that was shit, didn't work at all. Also ... ", she grinned dumbly, whereupon Bruno laughed and said:" Martini. "Nobody could imitate the figure from" One flew over the cuckoo's nest "as well as Gerda.
“I don't know, Gerda, but the fact that you've got the martini on like no one else doesn't mean that you shouldn't be helped. And do you really want to form your final opinion on psychiatry based on a film that is several decades old and also sells sex with a minor as a minor offense? "
“No, and, admittedly, a lot has happened in the clinics since they started taking people seriously instead of babbling Freud nonsense. That's why I agreed to do outpatient therapy. But of course the guy in the first session ›You have to talk about it, can you describe it in a bit more detail‹, I think he jerked you off afterwards. From then on I just said, ›Just read through all the abuse stuff online, give it your all anyway, damn it!‹ He said: ›You won't get any further, Frau Jegen,‹ and I said: ›I decide when I'm getting ahead '. And at some point they'll have enough of you. "
“Sure, you decide how fast you go, everything else is incapacitation. Well, obviously was an idiot. Miriam also said that it only got better with the third therapist. "
“Maybe it got better on its own and then it happened to be the third one. And anyway, we have various things in tow. "
Bruno nodded and Gerda continued: “A lot of people I know have found a way out of some shit, it may have saved them from worse and some would like the whole world to know. That's OK. But when you start telling others which way to take, then you start to become narrow-minded. "
"Sure," said Bruno, "in the end the victims fight each other."
"Just a moment," protested Gerda, "I'm not a victim, just to make it clear!"
“I don't mean that you should feel that way. But when people who have been harmed say that they are not victims, that doesn't mean ... well, isn't that some kind of hidden protection against perpetrators? "
“You see, Bruno, I don't care about such things. Just because shit happened to me doesn't mean I'm a victim. "
They were silent for a while, then Gerda said: "It's not my fault that everything is always so complicated."
"What do you think?"
"Man, it's clear."
"The thing with Kaspar?"
"Yes, the idiot."
"What huh? Just say it. "
Bruno hesitated: 'The scene in the corner. That reminded me a bit of the past. Do you remember when we were at the Sleaford Mods concert in the Salzhaus and I thought you'd think it would be great if I told you Divide and Exit Donate?"
“You talked to this guy at the bar. I gave you the album and you put it in your pocket without looking at it. Finally you left and I saw it lying on the floor in a puddle of beer. "
"Do you still have it?"
"I broke it."
“You see, that's the difference. When something like that happens to you, you break things and Kaspar beats faces to a pulp. And he said why: he thought this guy had bothered me and he wanted to show him not to touch me or anything. Man, I'm really through with this protector shit. Because if I have learned something, then that's it: there is no limit between wanting to protect and wanting to possess. "
Falling needles, stamping on oak, there are many things that freeze me. A part of me then goes away from everything and looks at what is happening, which flows in slow motion. Films are made that are later rewound in my head. Or maybe not. There are many things I haven't remembered for years. Not suppressed or anything, that wasn't in my memory. And suddenly it's there again, just shredded, sometimes it's a film in slow motion and without sound. Sometimes I just hear the sound or I smell something. It's pretty scary and when I try to describe something of it, I get scared. Great fear. As if I didn't have permission to really hold onto something and at the same time I get doubts about these memories because they are so different. Although, someone once said that doubt is a sign that these memories are correct, paradoxical, if you doubt yourself, you are correct, beech branches, breakage, rotten.
Verbrecher Verlag, 242 pp., Hardcover, € 20.00
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