Isabella Ter-Hovhannisyan

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I am blind but I can see. I close my eyes and see everything. I open them, I see a wall: white, silent, and cold… I close my eyes again and see through the wall. I see the city. It is late night, or early morning. Where am I going? I do not know. I know the truth, but I am looking for something better.

It is raining. Warm summer Rain… He wants to hug me, to kiss with his passionate lips. Should I let, or should I not? Then all of a sudden Wind without any hesitation steals the kiss from my lips. I am surrounded by chaos… Rain is my husband; I am Wind’s woman, his female! Choice? I do not want to choose! I want to want, to want Rain, to want Wind, to want … I am walking around the city. It is late night, or early morning. Rain has stopped, and does not want to hug me, kiss me anymore… he kisses someone else… I am just walking, with no aim. I do not know where I am going. I know the truth, but I am looking for something better. I am looking for the lie!

And I open my eyes again. The Wall: cold and silent… She is silent because she wants to hear better; to hear my secrets, absorb my pain and then tell the world. Let her do it! I do not have secrets, and people will not believe there is pain in my heart.

And I will close my eyes again. I will see the city through the wall. I am walking through deserted streets. I know the truth, but I am looking for something else. Raindrops are like tears on my cheeks. I am in Rain’s arms. He penetrates me, and from that pleasurable pain I seem to forget about the existence of the world. I scream, and coil as a snake; I cry… It was late night, or early morning when He came. I did not ask anything, He did not answer; but gently hugged me with his rude hands and kissed. I cry! Just like He is hugging and kissing me now, He was hugging and kissing someone else… I cry, meanwhile that someone else was giggling, and leaving scratches with her nails on His back…

It is already early morning. Have you ever noticed that people walk slower on a bridge? I get closer to the banisters, look down: the deep and dark canyon, the roar of mad waters below … I remember His hands, look down; the bridge, the noisy technical support tram, the little sparrow sitting on the rail, who is looking at me and is not even scared, Him… nothing exists anymore. I am free…

I knew the truth, but searched for something better. I searched for the End… I found it…


Published by the permission of the author. © by Isabella Ter-Hovhannisyan. No copying or redistribution allowed without the written permission of the author.

See also:

This essay in Armenian

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