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+--- Thread: If you want to love, you have to travel! (/showthread.php?tid=483)
If you want to love, you have to travel! - Simon - 11-16-2025
I was sitting in a café. In front of me was a large mug of warm cocoa with extra cream and a dash of Baileys . I always drink cocoa. Nothing else is an option for me. In this matter, I'm still a child.
I just didn't like coffee, even though I was 20 years old. But I miss the energy boost.
Can you say I miss that? Can you miss something you don't even know?
I asked myself these questions as I looked out the window into the darkness. The illuminated street was blurred by the rain splattering against the panes. The song playing through my headphones was perfect for me: Breakfast in America by Supertramp.
I was always a child of the 80s, at least when it came to music.
It has always been my dream, even when I was a little child and my father told me about the time when he hitchhiked through America as a young man, to travel to America, even if only once in my life.
I really wanted to experience New York in real life. This city, this country, simply fascinates me. I don't know why. I was probably influenced in part by the endlessly wonderful stories my father used to tell me when I was a little kid. Whenever my dad told me about his American adventures, we always lay in front of our fireplace. This makes me associate America with the smell and warmth of burning wood. I'm aware that America will have a completely different feel. Not as cozy, but much more exciting than a log collapsing.
Standing in front of the Statue of Liberty and saying how small I feel is something I often dream about at night, and I will definitely make that dream come true! But not alone, but only with the person who is the love of my life and who also has the desire to travel to America. That was a requirement I set for myself.
America was my purpose in life. I could literally feel it. I sensed that I would eventually be drawn there.
But I have n't found true love yet. In my mind, I pushed that dream back another ten years in my life and dejectedly spooned the cream off my hot chocolate. I changed the song: Mad World by Gary Jules .
I continued to look out the window at the dark and damp outside world, while I held the warm mug in both hands to warm them. For some reason, my hands are always cold. Many of my friends find this creepy and rarely shake my hand. They prefer to hug me. I don't call my friends friends either, but my brothers and sisters. They, on the other hand, affectionately refer to me as the living death , because I was quite thin. I was a mere speck of nothing. A line in the landscape. A collection of bones where you expect my skeleton to start rattling whenever I move.
I had black hair, and I almost only wore that one color, which officially wasn't even a color. I saw things differently.
Exceptions are festive occasions like weddings and holidays, or days when I feel supernaturally comfortable (which was rarely, if ever, the case). On those days, I practiced color blocking to the fullest. Which means there are no rules! Today I wore a simple black turtleneck sweater and black pants with countless pockets and studs. The only color on me today was the purple on my black and purple checked studded belt.
Outside, behind the raindrop-speckled windowpane, I noticed a boy. Or should I say, a creature who knows how to all the rules of art and color blocking . break
This boy had turquoise-blue hair peeking out from under a hood. The hairstyle looked like something from another planet. I'd even bet it glowed in the dark!
He entered the restaurant. Now I could see this fascinating boy—I couldn't think of a better word to describe this boy—much better. What was even better was that he was looking directly in my direction. He wasn't looking at me, but probably at someone sitting at a table behind me or something.
To match his blue hair, this boy also had ice-blue eyes. His features were soft. He had incredibly clear skin for his age. How old could he be? My age, or older? But definitely not younger than me, I thought to myself. He walked past me, glanced at me briefly. I thought I saw a small smile as he looked at me. But I told myself I was wrong. Suddenly, this man was out of my sight. What a pity.
I discreetly turned around a few times to look at him. He was sitting there with another boy. An inconspicuous but nevertheless attractive boy. I was ashamed to be stalking strangers so obviously. I drank my hot chocolate in one go, burning my tongue, which now felt quite furry. My goal was now the restrooms so I could cool my mouth and tongue with cold water. When I came back, I sat on the other side of the table so I could continue admiring him . I ordered another hot chocolate with extra cream from the waitress. I needed a new song! No turning back from Wolfsheim.
While I waited for my hot cocoa so I could wrap my now-cold hands around it, I looked outside, and looked outside, occasionally glancing at the two boys. In particular, I looked at the boy with blue hair and wonderful ice-blue eyes. They were obviously deep in conversation.
From one moment to the next, there was a huge commotion in the bar. Startled, I looked in the direction the noise was coming from.
The noise came from the two boys. The blue-haired one apparently jumped so hard that the chair he was sitting on fell back. The table was also no longer standing on its specially made legs. There were shards of glass everywhere.
It was obvious they were arguing. I became curious and pulled my earplugs out. Although... that wasn't really necessary, given how loudly they were shouting at each other.
"What's so bad about being free?" the blue-haired man shouted. "Why do you want to hide, why can't you show who you really are? You're not yourself! Not even now! You'll never be able to be." With that, he knocked over another chair and hurried out of the bar.
I couldn't help myself, and I followed him. I put 30 euros on the table. I didn't care at all that it was way too much money. I just wanted to go to him. I didn't know why, and honestly, I didn't really think about it. I've always been someone who listens to my gut first, and then to the thoughts in my head.
I rushed out the door of the bar. It was so wet and cold that I pulled my jacket tighter. I looked for the blue-haired boy. A regular thundering sounded in my ears. As if someone was kicking metal. That's exactly what it was. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the blue-haired boy kicking a beautiful old VW bus. It was my absolute favorite car. Just as it was standing there. In red and white. "What are you doing?" I asked calmly, but with a horrified tone in my voice. I couldn't believe he would deliberately damage such a wonderful car. I simply wouldn't allow that to happen!
"What do you want?" he barked at me. As he said that, he turned to me. "Oh, I didn't see it was you. I'm sorry!"
How? That it's me? What difference does it make whether it's me or someone else?
"Um... what's going on?" I asked cautiously. He looked at me as if I weren't all there anymore. He came over to me and held out his hand. "I'm Aaron, by the way!" Surprised, I hesitantly held out my hand as well. "Sascha. Sascha Mertens," I introduced myself, happy that I no longer had to think of Aaron as the blue-haired guy. "So Sascha, what is such a young and sweet boy like you doing here all alone in a bar, drinking cocoa with so much cream as if you were deliberately trying to get diabetes someday?" Had he been watching me the whole time, too? I felt myself blush. He came even closer to me. So much so that I could see he was shaking all over. He put a hand on my cheek and stroked me tenderly. His hand was ice cold. Nevertheless, I got goosebumps all over my body, all the way down to my toes. I tried to keep my composure and get back to the topic of why I'd followed him in the first place. "What was going on with you and that other boy?" He looked at me sadly. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could see him fighting back tears. For a while, neither of us said anything. "How about we drive around a bit and I find out a bit more about the boy who's been catching my eye all evening?" After a moment, I nodded hesitantly. It turned out that the VW bus belonged to him. Although I loved that car, it was the first time I'd ever sat in that bus, and I had no idea that in the not-too-distant future, I'd be spending entire days in it.
The owner of the bar rushed out, looking for us. Aaron flashed his headlights, which caught his eye. The owner, who reminded me of a rat, was obviously furious. The only thing missing was foaming at the mouth. Aaron blinded him by briefly switching on his high beams. Then he hit the gas, and we drove off into the darkness. This may sound corny, but I've never felt as safe as I did at that moment.
It's a Man's World by James Brown and Luciano Pavarotti blared from the speakers Aaron had installed in the bus. I was glad that a song I liked was playing. I was even more relaxed than I already was.
There was nothing for miles around except trees. Some people only see trees close together, but I... I see spaces and light!
I had no idea where we were. Honestly, I didn't really care! I found myself wanting this ride to never end. The only thing I was dying to do was find out what had happened in the bar earlier, and why.
“What does quality of life mean to you?”
I paused. This question caught me completely off guard, for one reason alone: I'd already prepared myself to tell him something about myself.
I looked at him. I couldn't see his face because it was so dark. I could only make out his profile. He stared intently at the road. At that moment, he looked like a silhouette. I also looked ahead, at the road, and thought for a while about the question and what he wanted to hear from me. Nothing came to mind. He seemed to notice this and expanded on the question:
"Suppose. Just suppose, because I don't want it to happen so quickly. Suppose you're dying. What trait is most important to you, the one you want to keep until your last breath?" I understood even less now. I looked like a wrecked car. Aaron had to laugh. "Look in the glove compartment! There's a notepad in there. Take it out."
I did as I was told. There were piles of notepads in the glove compartment. "Why do you have so much writing material? And why in your bus?"
"I'm a writer, and my best ideas always come to me while driving. It's not uncommon for me to pull over in the emergency lane and fill a whole notebook, jotting down my idea in detail, before moving on." I was impressed, and picked up the notebook on top and one of at least 30 pens that were also in that compartment. I opened to the first page. "Now what?" I asked.
"Now you're going to tear a sheet out of this pad and tear it into five pieces. On each of these pieces, you're going to write one quality that's incredibly important to you."
I wrote "independence" on the first piece of paper. I wrote "taste" on the second piece of paper. I also wrote something on the other three pieces of paper. "What's the next step?" I asked.
"Now take all the pieces of paper and hold them in front of you. On each piece of paper there is a characteristic or a skill that is important to you. All of them together represent your quality of life. Little by little you decide which skill you would be most likely to give up." I stared at the scraps of paper. Little by little I threw one piece of paper after another into the footwell. It became more and more difficult to part with a piece of paper. At some point I only had two pieces of paper left in my hand. What is more important to me? I seriously pondered which piece of paper had more value to me. On one piece of paper it said " To be clear in my head" and "The ability to express myself". For me they belonged together. What good is it to me to be clear in my head if I can't express what I think or what I feel?
Suddenly, Aaron snatched one of the two scraps I was still holding from my hand. I was shocked. My clear head was taken away from me.
"Do you now know what I mean by quality of life?" I had a hunch, but I didn't dare say it. I didn't even get a chance to say what I thought, because he continued.
"Quality of life means being free to decide and live as you see fit. As soon as you can no longer decide how you want to live so that you feel comfortable, you no longer have a single shred of quality of life. You are then trapped in a world as other people see it. Personally, I equate quality of life with being free because I was born to live my life, not a life for another person."
Now it became quiet between us again. I got a completely new picture of him. What was even more frightening: I got a completely new picture of myself!
"Thank goodness there's a gas station! The tank's empty." Aaron laughed mischievously. I was glad, because I desperately needed some fresh air.
We stopped next to a gas pump. Aaron turned off the engine and looked over at me. "Are you okay?" I nodded. "Really?" I nodded again. Aaron looked through the windshield again. "Why don't I believe you?" I looked out my window. I looked out the window, not through the windshield, so he couldn't see my face. I didn't want him to see that I wasn't okay. I definitely didn't want him to try to analyze how I was feeling, because I didn't even know myself.
"All right." He opened the door. Then he slammed it shut.
Relieved, I turned my head forward again and took a deep breath. I was startled to realize he was still in the car. I realized this the moment he took my face in his hands and... and kissed me. I opened my eyes in complete shock. But I quickly closed them again because I felt, and I was one hundred percent sure, that it was a good thing.
After at least a minute, our lips separated again. He kept my face in his hands, however, and he smiled at me. Despite the darkness, I could see that his eyes were shining even brighter than usual. It was such a wonderful blue that I decided at that moment that from now on, blue would be my favorite color, apart from the red that adorned the bus in which I had my first kiss today, with a boy. I suddenly realized this for the first time. My breathing quickened rapidly, and when I touched my chest, I noticed that my heart rate had increased. "Are you okay?" he asked me for the second time this evening. Now I knew that I would probably hear that question a lot, and I knew that it would really piss me off.
“Didn’t you want to fill up?” He let go of me and this time, without saying a word, actually got out of the bus and filled up.
Meanwhile, I tried to calm myself down and relax my circulation. I rolled down the window a bit to get some fresh air.
Five minutes later, he got back on the bus. "Where do you live? I'll drive you home." I was overwhelmed. Sure, the kiss threw me for a moment. But I still couldn't imagine getting off the bus again.
"How come?"
"Because I asked you!" he barked at me. His eyes sparkled again, but this time not with tenderness, but with anger.
I couldn't utter a word. I was too busy concentrating on keeping a tear from running down my cheek. He definitely didn't want me to be labeled a little sensitive! So I just looked ahead, observing what was happening in the gas station shop. "So?" Aaron asked. "Why do you want to know?" I asked. It was clearly audible that I had a frog in my throat. "Because I'm driving you home." His voice sounded less aggressive now. "I'm not leaving you alone, especially not here. We've driven at least 20 kilometers. And I'm just going to assume you don't have enough money on you to pay for a taxi."
To be honest, I found it disgusting that I had nothing in my hand to counter it, and I deeply regretted having slapped too much money on the table just so I could follow the boy who was now causing me such an insane emotional chaos.
“If you don’t answer me now, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to get out. I can’t and don’t want to stay at a gas station all night.”
I finally gave in. "You can drop me off at the restaurant; I live less than two minutes away."
Aaron revved the bus's engine, and we rolled out of the lit gas station and back onto the dark road.
We remained silent. Without saying anything to me, Aaron suddenly pulled over, turned off the engine, and turned on the car lights. Then he turned to me. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I feel bad." I wasn't expecting that, but it didn't bother me. "Should I drive the rest of the way back?" I asked, with a hint of hope in my voice. What would be better than driving my favorite car myself than just sitting there doing nothing as a passenger? "That's not what I mean!" He looked deep into my eyes, but I couldn't interpret his expression. "I'm kissing you, and I expect it's okay. Especially since it was your first kiss."
How did Aaron know? I didn't tell him. At least, I wouldn't know. But what reason would I have to tell him, a boy? Can you tell whether someone has already kissed you or not? I didn't know the answer to that. After a few moments, he continued. "I have no right to just yell at you."
“It’s okay!” I replied, trying to escape this awkward situation.
"To get back to your question: That was the reason I freaked out in the bar earlier. I'm gay."
It didn't bother me at all, he seemed to see it too.
"You can see it in my face, too, and I'm open about it. He just isn't. He's..." Aaron paused. "He was my boyfriend. We've been together for a good two years now. I'm just not someone who hides who I am. I live out who I am. I can't change it anyway. I need a partner who's as confident as I am, or I'd have to love him damn hard. I guess I don't love him enough..."
I didn't know what to say. It wasn't necessary, because he kept talking. "I actually thought I was serious about him, which is why I planned a huge trip to introduce him to my family. All over Europe. And finally to America. That's where I would have asked for his hand in marriage."
I felt goosebumps running down my back.
"Now I'm pedaling alone, and this old car," he tapped the steering wheel, "is starting the trip. I told all my family and friends that I wasn't coming alone, but that I wanted to introduce them to the love of my life. Now I can say that was all a mistake."
I could see a tear running down his cheek. Without being able to do anything about it, I simply kissed him away, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He smiled at me. "Karma!" he said. "You believe in karma?" I asked, surprised. "Of course!" Then we kissed passionately again. This kiss was even better than the first. My whole body trembled as he slowly and carefully pushed his tongue into my mouth. It took a while before we could pull away. He smiled at me. His eyes sparkled, but this time, thank God, with tenderness. He revved the engine again and drove on. After a few minutes, we were standing in front of the restaurant again, but it was already closed. "I hope to see you again!" Aaron said. "Sure, when?" I asked immediately. "In 6 months. Is Tuesday convenient for you?" Aaron laughed. I wasn't expecting that answer at all. I was completely perplexed. "I'm leaving in two days, and I have a lot to do before then. I'm sorry."
I could honestly say that I had never been so sad in my life, although there had certainly been sadder moments in my life.
"I'm going to the Harz Mountains first. To visit my grandma." I sobbed. It was unintentional, and I couldn't hold it back. Embarrassing! Aaron kissed me goodbye. When our lips parted, I said something I hadn't thought about. As I said, I react from my gut, not what my head tells me is reasonable. "Will you ask for my hand in marriage at the end of this trip?
hand at the end of this journey “Will you ask for my ?”
He said nothing. He just looked at me. Again, I couldn't interpret his expression. I wondered what he was thinking right now. I just noticed my breathing getting faster and faster. I covered my mouth with my collar. I didn't want him to notice how nervous this awkward silence was making me.
I slowly realized what I had just asked, and of a man, no less. A man with blue hair, steel-blue eyes, and a stunning smile with incredible, snow-white teeth.
I was about to say something. Say that I hadn't thought about it, that it was pure madness, and so on, but the moment I opened my mouth to revise my statement, Aaron beat me to it:
"I still have some things to do before I embark on a long journey. See you later!"
With these words, he leaned over me and opened the door on my side.
"See you!" I said in a choked voice. "Hopefully!" I added quietly. Then I got off the bus. Aaron closed the door behind me with a loud bang before I could even turn around.
I felt more alone than ever as the bus rounded the next corner. At that moment , I knew I was missing something! That . I was missing him
I stood on the street for a while , looking in the direction where the bus had turned into the wide world. I'll never see the bus, and more importantly , him , again.
As if in a trance, I put my headphones back in. Sehnsucht 's Schiller with Xavier Naidoo filled my ears.
After a few more moments, I slowly made my way home. I even wanted to take a detour. But really, I wanted to be completely alone. The only person I really wanted to see was... Aaron. The problem was: He apparently didn't want to see me anymore. And that was entirely my own fault. We hadn't even had a proper first date, and I asked him if he would ask me to marry him.
What would our first date have looked like? A trip to the movies or a romantic dinner? Would we have ended up in bed afterward? Would I still be a virgin after our first date?
I realized what I was thinking. He's a boy! My breathing became faster and heavier again. I realized that today, at the age of 20, I had my first kiss. With a boy!
I couldn't deny that I enjoyed kissing this boy . Nor could I deny that I wanted to be kissed again. And by a boy!
I felt like I didn't want to be kissed by just anyone. I couldn't even imagine a girl's lips on mine. Only those of a boy. By this boy! By Aaron!
More than anything, I wanted that right now. I couldn't think about anything else. Only the goosebumps that covered my body as our lips melted. And how I desperately wanted to feel that again!
Suddenly, I was torn from my thoughts. I suddenly had the feeling I was being followed. I turned around. Nothing unusual. I turned around again and continued walking. It took a few moments until I lost the feeling of being followed, and my hand, which had clenched into a fist, relaxed again. I unconsciously picked up the thread of thought again.
I could rightfully say that it had been the best evening of my life. The best evening so far, anyway. I could say this even though the evening had ended so sadly. I wonder what Aaron was thinking right now…
A hard blow to my side literally jolted me out of my thoughts. The blow was so hard that I couldn't breathe for a moment. I lost my balance and fell to the ground. I looked at the creature that had struck me. His face, however, was so dark that I couldn't recognize him. "Where is Aaron?" asked a boyish male voice.
It could only be the boy who had made Aaron so angry.
"I don't know," I stammered, gasping for air. Honestly, I (unfortunately) really didn't know. The boy kicked me in the side again with full force. I writhed in pain.
"Don't lie! Of course you know that! You were following him like a horny hustler!"
I was shocked. I had imagined the boy Aaron had argued with earlier in the bar to be completely different. I couldn't say exactly how, but he was definitely different from how he was acting right now. Not as aggressive. After what Aaron told me, I had imagined him to be a loyal puppy who did everything his master asked.
I got back on my feet, only to receive a hard blow to the face. I fell to the ground again. "You can say a lot of things about me," I gasped, "but not that I'm a horny hustler, is that clear?" I touched the spot where his fist had hit me. It was wet. Only now did I realize I had the taste of blood in my mouth.
"Then tell me what else I should call you? Dick-driven hustler or what do you think of...!" I didn't know what else to think of, because at the same moment I tripped him and he lost his footing. But he quickly got back on his feet. It seemed as if he had finally lost his temper. The boy started kicking me unrestrainedly, and not exactly timidly. I groaned loudly in pain. This seemed to incite this psychopath even more, and he kicked even harder.
When a light came on somewhere in a house about 50 meters away from us, the boy stopped and looked around. When someone shouted from the direction of the light, the boy kicked me really hard in the crotch and ran away. I writhed in pain. I heard footsteps rushing towards me. The voice sounded familiar, but I didn't have the strength to think about where it was coming from. The sounds around me grew quieter and quieter, and I couldn't hear anything anymore.
When I woke up, I heard a regular beeping sound. I carefully opened my eyes, only to close them again immediately.
Wherever I was right now, it was definitely pretty damn bright. I opened my eyes again, but this time just a crack so I could slowly get used to the new lighting conditions.
Above me was a large lamp. A bright lamp. And I was lying in a bed. But it wasn't my bed.
Suddenly, noises slowly reached my ears again. A cough from my left. I turned my head toward the coughing sound. A boy was lying there, staring with interest at the television mounted on the wall in front of his bed. I looked straight ahead again. There was a television there, too.
Only now did I notice that someone was holding my right hand.
I looked at my hand that was being held. With my eyes, I followed the arm that belonged to the hand, then the body that belonged to the arm, and then to the head that belonged to the body.
It was... Aaron! Aaron was sitting by my bed. He gave me a friendly wink. Concern was evident in his eyes. I felt faint, and my eyes were closing again. That didn't bother me, because for some reason, I felt safer than ever and was glad he was there. That he was with me!
When I woke up again—I must have been completely lost again—Aaron was still sitting there, his gaze fixed on me. "How are you?" he asked. "How am I supposed to be?" I asked quietly.
“Definitely better than three days ago,” he said in a serious tone.
Three days? Did he really just say three days ? I swallowed, which hurt.
“How was I doing three days ago?”
"It doesn't matter, you're feeling better now," he said. I decided in my mind that I probably didn't even want to know how I felt.
“How did you know I was here?”
Aaron laughed. "Simple! Because I brought you here!"
So he was the voice I knew.
"By the way, you owe me new seat covers for my bus. The old ones are so soaked with blood, I'll never get it out."
I stared at him, aghast. You didn't have to pick me up. Whose ex-boyfriend beat me up?
But I was too weak to argue now. And I didn't want to argue with him anyway. The time I spent with him was simply too precious to me. Who knows how long this time would last.
He saw that something was bothering me and said, "Hey, I was just kidding!" He smiled and stroked my cheek gently. I think I would have gotten goosebumps again, but the painkillers they must have pumped into me made me a little dazed.
“Where are my parents? Do they know?” He took my hand again.
"Yes, since yesterday. I heard you were here briefly. Because at the time, I was just at home packing the last of my things. I was actually just waiting for you to wake up so I wouldn't have to feel so guilty, and I know you're okay."
Aaron stood up, still holding my hand. He leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss on the mouth.
Then he turned around and headed toward the door. But I didn't want him to leave yet. I didn't want to be alone. What could I say now?
"This time I'm not asking you to marry me!" I said. I laughed to make it sound like a joke. At least, that was the plan, because Aaron turned to me and looked at me again with an expression I couldn't interpret. I gave another tentative laugh. "Okay, just forget it. It's probably the drugs they pumped into me. Don't take me seriously!" I laughed. But he was still looking at me with an expression that was now starting to scare me.
"How are you?" he asked me again after a brief silence. He seemed to be up to something. I sensed it. So this time I really thought about the question and listened to myself. I was fine. I felt fit. "Good! I'm doing wonderfully!" I stated with satisfaction.
"That's good! That's more than good, because we have no time to lose," said Aaron. He smiled. His eyes sparkled bright blue again. Then he turned and left the room. The door had just closed when it burst open again! A tall, slim, red-haired nurse came prancing into the room. "Good evening, Mr. Mertens. Are we back among the living? How are we today?"
I immediately got into a very bad mood! That's exactly what I hated about hospitals.
While I deeply admire the progress in medicine, you really shouldn't be a patient in a hospital unless you're so ill that you're no longer aware of it. But even then, you should have someone to ensure that you retain whatever dignity you still have.
"I don't know how they're doing! Honestly, I don't give a shit!" The redhead and the boy in the next bed looked at me in shock, open-mouthed, but didn't say a word. "But I guess they're more interested in how I'm doing! The answer: Good. I feel fine and would like to go home now!"
Her cheerfulness was wiped from her face. Through gritted teeth, she replied, "I'll inform the attending physician about your request, but I don't think he'll give the OK yet!" With those words, she left the hospital room and slammed the door behind her.
“What was that?” the boy asked me.
“What was what?” I snapped at him.
"Why are you talking to her like that? She's such a sweet nurse. She really doesn't deserve this. I like her very much!"
“Anyone who likes being treated like an underachiever likes her.”
He looked at me questioningly. "But she doesn't do that at all!" he replied.
"She talks to patients as if they were children. Not on her level. Just because I'm in bed doesn't mean I'm worth less or more than her. If she were a good nurse, she would treat me as if we were on equal terms and ask me, for example, 'How are you today, Mr. Mertens?' Not 'How are we today, Mr. Mertens?'"
The boy next to me didn't have an answer. He looked at me, bewildered. Satisfied, I lay back and closed my eyes. Man, those were really damn good painkillers, you had to give them that.
When I woke up again, it was dark. I looked at the phone on my nightstand, which also showed the time. It was 12:03 AM. I closed my eyes again, but opened them again when I heard the door gently open. Through the light coming through the door, I could see a wheelchair being pushed into the room. Unfortunately, I couldn't identify the person pushing the chair on wheels into the room. He turned on the light. Aaron was standing in front of my bed, beaming at me.
“Are you fit?” he asked.
"Yes!" I exclaimed like a shot. I looked to my left, but the boy who was lying there a moment ago was gone. I looked back at Aaron. He, too, saw that the boy who liked being pitied was no longer there.
"So much the better!" he said to me. Then he went to my closet and opened it. I could see that my travel bag was in there; my parents must have brought it to me.
“Can you sit in the wheelchair?” he asked me.
"I can try." I slowly threw back the covers and sat down on the edge of the bed. I carefully slid further down until my feet touched the floor and tried to stand up. Only then did I realize that I had actually been given a catheter. A really nice transparent pee bag that was already half full of my urine. My face was now more like a tomato color. As I stood up, the tube that was stuck in my fuse slipped out a bit. I cried out briefly. I was already unsteady on my feet, but the pain that spread through my lower back made me fall back into bed.
At least I would have been, if Aaron hadn't caught me and thrown me into the wheelchair with one swing.
That was quite an effort and I needed a few moments to recover.
"What are you doing?" I asked as he wrapped a warm, cozy wool blanket around me and pulled my shoes on. He was obviously thinking about what he was going to say next.
"Take you on a journey, at the end of which I'll ask for your hand in marriage!" I looked at him in surprise. "Trust me!" he added as he tied my shoes.
I did, and I knew I wanted to do that for the rest of my life. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up to me and kissed him. That was the first time I kissed him and he didn't kiss me. I got wonderful goosebumps all over my body again. The sedatives must have worn off.
With my bag on my lap, Aaron pushed me out into the hallway. Not a soul was in sight. He wheeled me slowly and quietly toward the elevators.
"Where are you going?" a voice called, breaking the dead silence as Aaron was pushing me into the elevator. I just caught a glimpse of the red-haired nurse running toward us as the elevator doors closed.
"Watch out," Aaron said to me, "when the doors open, I'll have to push you to the bus real fast. As soon as we get there, I'll lift you in and throw the wheelchair in the back. Then I'll hit the gas. I hope you don't get sick from the high speed and the fast maneuvers!"
“Not normally!” I said.
“That’s good!” With these words, the elevator doors opened and Aaron pushed me at a tremendous speed through the large entrance hall of the hospital.
Considering it was the middle of the night, there was quite a lot going on here. Many people who saw us managed to jump aside at the last moment. We almost killed an elderly lady and her stroller. But only almost.
We were heading straight for the exit when a voice from behind shouted: “Stop them!”
It was undoubtedly the red-haired, incompetent nurse who had never heard of human dignity.
Aaron sped up even faster. We were less than 10 meters from the front door. I just hoped the sliding doors would open quickly enough, otherwise there would be a huge crash. I turned around and looked past Aaron, whose sweat was beading on my face.
Several people were chasing us. We had no chance. I turned back to the front. The door was getting closer and closer. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for pain. But nothing happened. Aaron hadn't stopped either.
He abruptly steered me to the right. My pee bag slipped off my lap and fell to the floor. The hose ripped from the bag, bursting open. Aaron slipped on my bodily fluids and fell sprawled on his back, letting go of the wheelchair, and I continued rolling. Right into a wall. I braked carefully and steered around it. The hose was still stuck in my crotch. It burned terribly, but I couldn't deal with that right now.
Aaron was back, taking over again. "You stink of piss!" I said with a huge grin on my face. "Very funny!" he grumbled. I looked up at him. He smiled, too.
He drove back to the elevators. No, not at all. He drove past them, too. Because what I hadn't seen—how could I?—was that there was also an exit next to the elevators. Someone kindly held the door open for us. Apparently, he saw we were being followed and was on our side for some reason. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a cute old man. He took off his hat to greet us. I smiled as we drove toward him and thanked him with a smile as we sped past.
As soon as we were out in the fresh air, Aaron pulled me around again. "We have to get halfway around the hospital really quickly! The parking lot is on the other side," he panted.
Our pursuers couldn't have been so close to us anymore. At least I couldn't see them anymore.
We raced through the ambulance ramp. We just managed to pass a seriously injured patient being wheeled into the emergency room on a stretcher.
Shortly afterward, I saw Aaron's van. For some reason, the trunk lid opened by itself. "I knew this would pay off someday," Aaron laughed.
A few moments later, I was able to experience just how much strength Aaron truly possessed. He lifted the wheelchair, which I was still sitting in, into the trunk without a moment's notice. He slammed the door behind me and climbed into the front of the car. The engine roared, and with squealing tires, we sped off the hospital grounds.
Only when we got onto the highway did I dare to breathe loudly again.
“Where are we going?” I asked from behind.
Our eyes met through the rearview mirror. He was smiling, I could see it from the sparkle in his eyes.
"We'll drive a few kilometers now so I can make sure no one is following us. Then we'll drive to a rest stop where we'll spend the night. You need to rest, and I desperately need a shower!"
We both had to laugh. "You're right, though!" I said to him, grinning at him through the rearview mirror. Now his gaze had a tender quality. "I love you too, my darling."
These words caught me off guard again. It was still new to me. But I didn't want to behave the way I did the night I met him. How long ago had that evening been? It doesn't matter!
“I love you more!” I replied happily and blew him a kiss.
Two hours later, freshly washed and without a pee bag tube, I lay in a freshly made bed, watching my soon-to-be fiancé strip off his clothes and then lie down next to me. Snuggled in his arms, with a sharp burning sensation in my best part, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, I was still lying in his arms, just as I had fallen asleep. I turned to him. He was already awake and smiling at me.
“When we met, I never would have imagined that a few days later you would wake up in my arms.”
I smiled at him and gave him a kiss. For some reason, it felt like the most normal thing in the world, and I knew I wanted to always wake up to his smile in the future.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. "Good, but still a little weak." He stroked my cheek. "Okay, then we'll stay here for another day. You rest, and I'll get you some clothes. You didn't really have much in your travel bag. Just a pair of underwear and socks. Your parents didn't even pack a T-shirt and pants for you. They don't seriously think you would have gone home with your clothes covered in blood, do they?" Aaron worked himself up into a rage. But why? "No offense, but your parents are disgusting!" Unfortunately, I couldn't respond to that, because he was right.
I looked at him silently and continued listening. "You could have died, you almost did twice, and all they're thinking about is that your father's company is about to celebrate its 10th anniversary."
I knew about the anniversary, and that my parents hadn't been thinking about anything else for weeks, but I didn't know that I'd almost died, and not just once! I looked at him, shocked. "Were you with me the whole time?" He put his hand in mine. I squeezed it. "Well, not completely, but most of it."
I smiled at him. Honestly, I was actually glad I wasn't alone. At least not during the moments when I was awake.
"After they had your surgery, I quickly went shopping for clothes for the trip. After all, I needed to distract myself somehow. I also bought a few things for you, but they're still not enough, because we're traveling for even longer than originally planned."
I was surprised. "What? How can you afford that?"
I couldn't help myself; I had to ask him that too, even though I knew it would ruin the mood. "How much money are you actually getting from me?" He looked at me intently and took my other hand in his as well.
"Where did I get the money? That's my concern," he paused briefly. "And you? You're my fiancé... Well, soon enough, anyway. I invited you on this trip. You're not paying anything!" I opened my mouth to say I'd definitely contribute something, but I never got that far. "No arguments! Is that clear?" He looked me straight in the eyes and then kissed me. Once again, I was completely under his spell. I enjoyed it and closed my eyes as our tongues wrestled.
"Now, you rest, get some more sleep, and I'll get what we need." He went to the door. "For our adventure," he said over his shoulder.
When he had the door handle in his hand, he turned completely to me once more, looked me deeply and firmly in the eyes, and said, "I love you!" I smiled, slumped back against the pillows, and heard the door close. Now I was alone! I love you too!
When Aaron returned in the early afternoon, clutching dozens of plastic bags, I was lying wide awake in bed. I couldn't sleep. But why not? I felt dead tired, but no matter how much I tossed and turned, I just couldn't fall asleep.
It might sound silly, but I suspected it was actually because Aaron hadn't been with me.
He put the bags on the floor, lay down in bed with me, and gave me a kiss. The next moment, I was asleep.
When I woke up again, I immediately noticed that I felt better. My groin was still burning terribly from that stupid pee bag.
I sat up. No more dizziness. I looked at the clock radio on the nightstand. It was four in the morning.
The faint light cast by the moon through the window made me realize Aaron was awake again. I could see his body sitting on the edge of the bed. I slid closer to him and reached under the T-shirt he had already put on. Immediately, I felt goosebumps spread across his back. He turned to me. "Did I wake you?" he asked me quietly. He was almost whispering. My hand was still under his T-shirt and on his back. I pushed him down to me, and we kissed.
When our lips separated after a short eternity, he asked me, “How are you today?”
I gave him another quick kiss. "Better, I'd almost say fantastic."
I could see his white teeth showing his beautiful smile even in the dark.
“Then let’s get started today!”
Now it happened again. The feeling of shock overcame me. Reality caught up with me.
Until now, this was all just a dream for me. Admittedly, a more than beautiful dream, but one that began with a nightmare, bloody on a street.
What about my parents? I didn't have any friends, but still? Would anyone miss me? Would anyone even notice that I wasn't there anymore, but instead, I was on some sort of world tour, at the end of which I'd be in America and even get engaged? This all sounds like a cheesy movie where everything goes perfectly. Now all we need is the mafia on our tail to turn the whole situation into a thrilling action thriller.
No, this is all one big joke.
Sweating overcame me. I threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. I paused for a moment, but my legs held up. I didn't feel dizzy either. I ran to the bathroom and took off my boxer shorts. Who put them on me?
At that moment, I didn't care at all. I jumped into the shower, set it to ice cold, and let the cold but refreshing water splash down on me.
I hadn't been in the shower for ten seconds when Aaron knocked on the door. "Are you okay?"
There it was again. The question of whether everything was okay. I decided not to answer. Instead, I slowly turned the water flow up and up.
There was another knock on the door. "Sascha, is everything okay?"
No reaction from me.
There was another knock. "May I come in?"
I froze, but didn't reply.
Knock-knock. "I'm coming in now, okay?"
Not a word. The moment the doorknob swung down, I quickly turned off the water and wrapped the towel, which thankfully was hanging over the shower wall, around my waist. Aaron stood in the doorway, staring at me with a look I couldn't interpret.
At that moment, I realized how much I hated that expression on him. "What's wrong?"
Oops, that was a new question I wasn't at all prepared for. This time he asked me directly. He took a step toward me, naked except for a thin towel around his hips. "No...nothing!" I said quickly. So quickly that I couldn't suppress a tremor in my voice.
"Secure?"
I nodded quickly, clutching my towel tightly. He noticed this and grinned. Then he looked me straight in the eyes.
"Are you sure?" With those words, he stood very close to me. I was a bit taller than him because I was standing in the shower tray. I thought I had the advantage, but I was wrong.
He unashamedly reached under my towel. I could tell he was by no means a novice in these matters.
Pulses of pleasure shot through my body as he ripped the towel from my hips.
Now I stood before him completely naked. I blushed. "Believe it or not, but this isn't the first time I've seen you naked." Aaron grinned.
I was startled. Reflexively, I placed my hands over my core. "Who do you think has washed you and changed your underwear in the last few weeks?"
My facial expression would have rivaled any tomato.
Somehow, I liked the situation. I pulled Aaron into the shower stall with me, clothes on, closed the doors, and turned the hot water back on. We kissed as the warm water cascaded down on us.