Intro. I don't know when I fell in love. Maybe it was the first day that he entered my house with his eyes broken. Or maybe it was later, when I heard him speak for the first time ... and his voice sounded as if he were afraid to exist. Don't know. I just know that I loved him. And I still do it.
He is not my brother. Nor a childhood friend. It simply arrived. A Russian, silent boy, with his hands trembling with cold even if it was not winter. They had sent him to live with us for "complicated family reasons." No one explained a lot, and he ... never said anything.
Lev. That is your name. Three lyrics that I learned to write on all the leaves of my notebook without realizing it.
We have lived under the same roof for three years. For three years I have been effort to understand it. But he is still the same: cold, reserved, as if the whole world gave him the same. It is not cruel. It is not rude. Just ... he doesn't see me.
I have 15. He is 16. And yet, it seems that there is an entire universe among us.