I Had Been Looking For Her For Four Years, And She Had Left Three Years Ago

First of all, I would like to express my deep gratitude to this site for allowing me to share my grief and the blackened Christmas and New Year holidays. I will maintain confidentiality by not saying the names of people and places. Thanks to everyone who will be sympathetic to my pain. Here is my story. In early 2014, I enrolled in a refresher course in English. I chose a small school in the center of Sofia. Our group consisted of 6 people. Among them was the girl V. A small, modest, kind, beautiful and a little shy girl. Just graduated with a bachelor's degree in philology and is ready to enroll in a master's degree in the same specialty. He loved the language he was learning. He was born in a small town at the foot of the Rila Mountains, but lived in Sofia. We talked in the breaks. It was an infinite pleasure to communicate with her. With each passing weekend (the courses were Saturday-Sunday) I realized that I like her and attract more and more. Maybe she was interested in me, too. Whenever he saw me, he asked me how I was, how my week went. Without exception. Unfortunately at that time, and now I suffer from things like: low self-esteem, insecurity, low self-esteem, fear of rejection, fear of not exposing myself and looking dumb, too much thinking about the situations that would arise after my actions and so on. n. In English, all this is called Social anxiety. It's hard for me to talk to strangers, especially girls. That's why I didn't ask her for any coordinates. Several times after the course I sent her to her stop and once by subway to the bus station. He had to catch a bus to his hometown.

Then I thought I'd suggest she go to the movies, the theater, or just see me next week. I did not dare. I was very worried. The courses ended in the early spring of 2014. After them I knew only 4 things about her. Her first name, her hometown, the university where she studied and her specialty there. After we finished, I often thought about her. I kept blaming myself for not trying to take the first step. I promised myself that if I ever met her by chance on the street, I would try to pick up her phone, if I was in a confusing situation. I often dreamed of her being around. I went out with some women, but I always imagined how nice it would be if V. was next to me now, and not this florist. We welcomed the new year 2016 against 2017 with friends in a resort village near her hometown. Since I was at work on the 30th Friday, I came by bus. I prayed I met her by chance. And let her go home at the same time. To be at 6 p.m. at the bus station where my transfer was. I imagined how nice it would be for her to be with me that New Year's Eve. I was sure that my friends would accept her and like her very much. Over the next two years, I also often thought about her. I was praying and hoping to meet her by chance on a street in Sofia. On several occasions when I passed the university where I was studying, it happened that a student looked like her.

Did I ask three times: - Excuse me, to study philology and to come from the small town at the foot of Rila? Twice the answers were, "You're not mistaken." You confessed. The third time the answer was, "Abe, get rid of her." My work is related to communication in English. Separately, I administer several Facebook groups and one forum in which English is written. Earlier this year, my direct manager, as well as several people from the groups and the forum, remarked to me that I was making some small grammatical and punctuation errors. Some things I had forgotten. I decided to renegotiate my lessons. One evening, as I was flipping through my last-year notebook, I saw that I had written down B.'s last name. I don't remember when it was or on what occasion. Then a warm wave of joy swept over my body. I ran to the computer and opened Google. I found a news article with a picture of her. It was about winning a translation contest as a student. With the highest score of all students from all over Bulgaria. I also checked on Facebook. There were three girls with her names who looked like her. I sent them a personal message to all three.

Two of them said they had nothing to do with her hometown, and the third did not answer me at all. In the following months, I googled V.'s names from time to time, but the results were the same. Nothing new. The Christmas holidays are generally a bit disgusting to me. Then I feel sad and lonely. Not that I suffer from a lack of friends, but because I don't have a wife by my side, and my parents are far from a stable family living in harmony. I volunteered to work on the holidays. On the one hand fell some other extra lev, on the other luff with colleagues. At the top of Christmas 25. 12. 2018. I was not at work. There were just enough volunteers for then. I spent Christmas Eve with my parents. My mother had made a Christmas table, and my father had been drinking with old friends before lunch. They wondered what to eat, to give a reason to, or to say something in spite of. In general, everything is normal. Things like a Christmas tree, decorations, lights and gifts have long been absent from our family's Christmas. After Christmas Eve, I returned to my apartment, which is not far from the apartment where my parents live. A boring book put me to sleep. The next day Christmas 25. 12. 2018. I rested, cleaned, we greeted relatives and friends for the holiday.

Then I continued reading the boring book. In the evening I got really tired of her and sat down at the computer. I decided to google B again. This time I came across something new. I found a Facebook group named after a novel written by a girl with the same first and last name. I looked at the pictures and some of them really were B. I shivered. A warm wave swept over me. I thought this was the greatest Christmas present I had ever received. I asked in person if he was from the town at the foot of Rila. I kept watching the band. I downloaded her book. But then I noticed that the pictures were mostly of flowers, plush toys and candles. Comments such as: "We miss you."; "We will always love you"; "I am convinced that you are in a better place, dear child!"; "She was beautiful ... The most beautiful, sweet and perfect creature." Then I received personal confirmation of her hometown. I wish it was just a killer resemblance. I wish this page was made for another girl. After that, however, I received confirmation of the specialty at the university, as well as the name of the school in which we studied English with her. The page was made by her mother in her memory and in order to spread the wonderful novel that V. had written when she was a freshman at the university. V. had left this world more than 3 years ago. I expressed my condolences to the mother. She shared through crying emoticons that they were left with good memories of her and the things she wrote. I wondered what was the reason for this beautiful angelic girl to leave so early, only 23. The answer was: "I'm sorry, going back is very difficult for us.", Accompanied by a crying emoticon. I decided not to be curious anymore. I still didn't understand the real reason.

I can't imagine how difficult it is for a woman. There is nothing worse than surviving your child. As far as I can only guess from the comments, it may have been an insidious disease. I told her mother that if she needed anything she could count on me and we said good night. I still can't believe it all happened. It's hard for me to realize that for the last four years I've been longing and looking for a girl, which had in fact departed from this world. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I have listened to Eric Clapton's song Tears in heaven over 50 times so far and roared with crocodile tears. I could barely contain myself from doing it at work and on the streets. The next day, Wednesday, December 26, 2018, I was a late shift. In the morning I visited one of the big churches in Sofia. I know that candles are lit first for the living, especially on holidays, but I lit them first for B, and I almost forgot the living. I wished she was in a better place and looking down on us. I hope all the time I've been looking for her, she's been looking down on me and making fun of my indecision, my insecurity, and my whole Social Anxiety. Some time ago I read in a book that when a person leaves this world, he comes to meet him. It's called a guide. It does not have to be a relative. Maybe a distant acquaintance. I wished he would be my guide when my days here are over. She would greet me before St. Peter decided where I was. If she decides that I am for Heaven, let her teach me the language of Heaven, because I know that her tongues are given.

Then I promise not to be so shy and anxious. I believe that V. would not want me to suffer, but to live my life to the fullest. When I wake up in the morning I see her face saying to me: "Hey, have a nice day, have a good time." At the beginning of next year with a mountain group we plan to climb a small peak in Rila for a day. The assembly point is in V.'s hometown, as some members are from there. I plan to pluck a flower from the mountain and plant it on her grave when I return. Christianity teaches us to be humble. But I keep asking myself, God, was that your plan? To take home so early this wonderful creature who had the rare combination of beauty, charm, kindness, purity, sharp mind, justice and a bunch of other positive qualities. V. deserved to live more than all of us, because she had diverse interests, valued her time, made full use of every moment she had, was completely positive and was polite to everyone.

As a conclusion from this story, I think that one should listen mainly to one's heart and sometimes not think too much about it. I realize that if I had been a little braver four years ago, I could have stolen wonderful moments with this girl for the rest of her time. Then I would be devastated. Surely my grief would be greater and my life would be just an existence without B. Such was God's will. C. to leave this world too early and I never meet her again. At least on this earth.