In the autumn of 2012, Nikolay P. called me again. By that time, I had already finished teaching a few programming groups, but Nikolay told me that he had a new group starting and offered me to continue my teaching work. At that point, I already felt confident in my role as a teacher and gladly accepted his offer. I knew it was an excellent opportunity not only to consolidate my skills but also to expand my social circle.
In this new group, I met two guys—Egor and Roma. At first, they were my students, but over time, we became real friends. Both of them were very passionate about programming, and their interest in learning only fueled my own desire to share knowledge. Our classes not only gave them new skills but also created an atmosphere where we could chat, discuss technology, and share experiences.
This new phase in my teaching career brought me not only professional success, but also valuable friends.
One day I was coming home from work—it was a Friday. On the street, I unexpectedly ran into Vasya. At that moment, he didn’t seem particularly dangerous to me, despite everything that had happened before. We lived in neighboring buildings, and, for better or worse, I couldn’t entirely deny that in some way, he was still my friend, even though he had robbed me and was essentially the reason for my breakup with Nadya.
We started talking, and I suggested we take a ride on my scooter. I thought maybe it was time to make peace. We rode around the neighborhood for a bit, and at some point Vasya decided to take the wheel himself. He started speeding through the courtyards, and although the road was wet and slippery, he didn’t seem to care. Suddenly, as he accelerated, he lost control at a turn and we crashed into the bumper of a parked car.
I was thrown a few meters, and Vasya fell too and ended up covered in blood. I immediately ran to him and tried to bring him to his senses, but he didn’t respond right away. Fortunately, after a while, he came to, but he was badly injured, limping and barely able to walk. We decided to tie the scooter to a tree, since I could watch it from my apartment window. I helped Vasya get to his apartment and sent him home.
As I found out later, Vasya went to the doctor and it turned out that he had torn his meniscus. This injury allowed him to avoid military service, which he had been hiding from for a long time.
I, on the other hand, was worried that we had crashed into a car. On the first day, I didn’t dare to go back for the scooter, but a day later I decided to retrieve it. When I approached the scooter, which was still tied to the tree, a police officer came up behind me. His office was right across the street. He asked if the scooter was mine, to which I answered yes. He said, relieved, that they had been watching it for two days to make sure nobody stole it, and told me to take it home.
I untied the scooter, checked the car we had crashed into, and luckily, no one had noticed anything or reported the incident. I took the scooter and parked it, where it stayed.
In early January, already used to my new routine, I once walked out of Maryino metro station, intending to go to the store. It was a cold evening, the air was filled with frost, and the snow-covered streets were softly lit by street lamps. A few passersby hurried home, wrapped up in warm scarves. Suddenly, under the glow of a streetlight, I saw her—Nadya. She was walking, slightly hunched from the cold, with confidence and calm in every step. Her hair was tucked under a hat, but even so, she looked familiar, and my heart began to beat faster.
The meeting was so unexpected that I froze for a moment. Memories flashed through my mind, and I realized that I had once wished to meet her on this very day. Gathering myself, I hurried to catch up and called out, “Hi!” She looked at me with slight surprise, stopped, and replied, “Oh, hi.”
At that moment, I was at a loss for words. I wanted to ask “How are you?” but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I decided to share some news. I told her that I now had students. She was surprised, as she had always seen me as a sort of street loafer. She clearly didn’t expect that I could be doing something so serious. Realizing that this was how Nadya saw me made me feel even more down.
Her look became thoughtful, and suddenly she asked, “So where is your family, your personal life?” That question hurt me. After everything I had been through, and feeling as weak as I did, I just didn’t know how to answer. How can you find a personal life when you have no strength left, when you still don’t understand life, when you’ve been betrayed, when you have no solid foundation, when you have a car loan to pay off even though you already sold the car, and ahead there’s only fog and uncertainty… All these thoughts raced through my mind. And all I could say was, “I still have time.”
Of course, what I wanted to say was that my personal life was standing right in front of me, since my heart was pounding at the sight of her. She seemed like the best girl in the world to me, but there was a huge misunderstanding between us. When I said “time,” I felt like she expected a different answer, maybe “my personal life is right in front of me.” But I didn’t dare to say those words. Nadya just walked on.
I said, “Damn, I had to go through so much crap.” Nadya agreed, “Yeah, really, you’ve been through a lot.”
After that, I tried again to convince her that I wasn’t using drugs, that I was nothing like what she might have imagined. As we walked to her building, I told her, “There are only thieves and liars there.” To this Nadya replied, “You were the same.” I stayed silent, but inside, I was boiling—I was never like that.
Then I mentioned Vasya, saying, “That bastard will never be able to run again.” I didn’t tell the whole story, but I meant the incident when Vasya fell off my scooter and tore his meniscus. We reached her building, she took out her keys and opened the door. We entered the entryway together, went up the stairs to the elevator, and when she got in the elevator, I once again said that I was not a drug addict. She said nothing. After that, I turned around and went home, replaying our conversation in my mind.
Despite everything, this meeting left me with warm memories. It was one of those rare moments when I truly felt joy in my life.
Inspired by the meeting, after some time I decided to do something nice for Nadya. I bought a huge plush bear and left it at her door. I was happy to make this gift for her, because she had always been the best to me. However, some time later, I saw that Nadya had a new status on VKontakte: “Drug addict or what?” Then I realized she still continued to think badly of me, despite my gift and all my efforts.
To bring something new and interesting into my life, I decided to go to Germany. I began preparing for the trip: I got a visa, bought tickets. It was my first solo trip to Europe, but to be honest, it turned out to be rather dull and monotonous. In Berlin, I visited a few familiar places where I had been with Masha, and also went to the Berlin Zoo. Mostly, I wandered through shopping centers and sometimes sat in bars drinking beer. I didn’t manage to make any new acquaintances. In the end, the trip to Germany didn’t give me the renewal or healing I had hoped for.
Time was relentlessly approaching my diploma defense, which was scheduled for mid-June 2013. After returning from Germany, I naturally began to prepare intensively for this important stage. The topic I chose was the process of creating guidebooks at our publishing house. I wanted to describe in detail how we brought an idea to life: from the initial concept to the final release of the finished guidebook. It was an opportunity not only to demonstrate my knowledge and skills but also to analyze the whole process in which I had been actively involved.
However, along with this, a new wave of depression began for me. I kept being tormented by thoughts of Nadya, as I had no way of changing her attitude towards me. I knew I was capable of being caring and kind, but I felt cornered—my potential was there, but I had neither the resources nor the opportunities to realize it.
This situation only worsened: I started drinking heavily after work, gradually losing control over my life. Strange coincidences began to follow me: I lost my passport and other important things several times, and often went to the passport office, where they already recognized me and jokingly suggested I could lose my passport every month.
In the end, I made the decision to quit the “Vokrug Sveta” magazine. May 31 was my last day at work. It was not an easy decision, but I understood that it was necessary. In the editorial office, they even hinted several times that this was entirely my initiative, and no one tried to convince me to stay. Despite that, I felt my time at the magazine had come to an end, and I needed to move on.
By the end of June, I successfully defended my diploma. Everything went smoothly, and I received my well-earned certificate, which became an important conclusion to this stage of my life. Nevertheless, despite the successful defense, I felt empty inside. University was behind me, and with its completion, all my usual reference points disappeared.
Now I had to think about what to do next. Constant uncertainty and anxiety followed me. The thought that Nadya, as I believed, saw me as a fraud only intensified this feeling. Losing passports and other little troubles seemed to me like ominous signs, as if life itself was trying to corner me.
And so, I reached the end of June 2013 without any clear prospects. The future seemed foggy, and I was sinking into a deep crisis. Constant breakdowns and a sense of hopelessness became my companions. It was during this period that I had a dream that changed everything.
