The prospect of road tripping alone for 4 hours back to my shanty ass college town did not sit as well as I had planned for that day.
On my way out of the city, I drove up to a fork on the road. One turn headed North and would take me directly back to campus while the other detoured conveniently to the place where she works.
I did not think for that moment and blindly heeded the desperate faint tugging in my heart. In those dying seconds, I pulled hard at the wheel- swerving towards the latter turn and almost took out a very angry Indian man on an old battered mo-ped at that.
*********************************************
We each had two Heinekens over lunch that never came. I have always enjoyed my Heine's and never considered it as a yuppie beer until I came home from the States and met up with dear Pooi San who brands for Carlsberg. Over the years it had always been a Bud or Miller all the damn time over lunch.
That short-lived, spontatenous lunch meeting with her skewed the way my Heinekens would taste in the not too distant future. The beer will now leave an even more bitter aftertaste than her makers ever intended to.
We talked about everything but Nothing. Respectively trying to keep our poker faces straight and cautiously avoided any references that could provoke an akward soliloquy about the other night . We took the easy way out and pretended it never happened at all.
"So what did you do last Saturday?"
"How's work coming along?"
"What's going to happen in school when you return?"
"My granny asked about you but I was too tired from work to explain"
"Yeah, so and so are getting married. I don't think I am going to be there"
It did not take an African Studies major to recognize two confused grown ups who were trying their best to dance their way around the bush while remained seated at the bar over beers in the middle of broad day afternoon.
I got sick of being stuck in the pretentiousness of the whole moment that made a mockery of my genuine feelings for the one woman whom I love in my life now.
I looked at her, drew some cash to cover the tab for both of us, stood and turned to leave.
"Are you going to call?"
Finally, her voice rang with the familiar sincerity that I was used to.
"I don't know"
That was easily one of the stupidest thing I've said out of my emotionally-challenged convoluted ego before I started my stuttered steps towards the exit that loomed so small now. A part of me wanted to just bolt the fuck out yet the rest of me wanted to stay on and hope that things would somehow take an unexpected turn for the better.; pretty much like how I took that detour turn expecting to sort things out with her only to unexpectedly conclude that things between us are more bungled than ever.
Burdened by the weight of a million pound from my heavy heart, my anxious footsteps soon slowed to a halt before I turned around to face her.
"Do you love me?"
Those words just rolled out uncontrollably. It wasn't like I really needed to know. Perhaps I was seeking an affirmation for existing. For Our shared existence.
The soft light from the bar top cascaded upon her beautiful face reflecting a deep glistening lovely glow that seemed to mock my silent hope that hangs precariously upon the sword of Damocles.
"I don't know"
The sword dropped and slashed my vulnerability into pieces.
If there was a moment that I felt a genuine need to cry in this evil rotten heart of mine, it was then. I felt like she had just stabbed me with a chainsaw, ripped out my heart and then promptly proceeded to dumping it into the toilet before shitting all over it.
But I held back my tears that soon turned into rage that one would expect from someone who felt unappreciated. I gathered all my strength and afforded her a faint smile before I finally exited that fuckin' fucked up shit hole for torn lovers that took the disguise of a friendly neighbourhood bar.
Words of wisdom from my best friend kept on ringing loud and clear on auto-repeat in my mind with her cold frozen gaze piercing thru the back of my head as I made my dignified exit from that place of broken dreams.
"Now you know how Rejection feels. You rejected her all the damn time. Now it's your fuckin' turn. Now you can think about how SHE felt before this"
And the Night mare rides on. On a december black psalm.
On my way out of the city, I drove up to a fork on the road. One turn headed North and would take me directly back to campus while the other detoured conveniently to the place where she works.
I did not think for that moment and blindly heeded the desperate faint tugging in my heart. In those dying seconds, I pulled hard at the wheel- swerving towards the latter turn and almost took out a very angry Indian man on an old battered mo-ped at that.
*********************************************
We each had two Heinekens over lunch that never came. I have always enjoyed my Heine's and never considered it as a yuppie beer until I came home from the States and met up with dear Pooi San who brands for Carlsberg. Over the years it had always been a Bud or Miller all the damn time over lunch.
That short-lived, spontatenous lunch meeting with her skewed the way my Heinekens would taste in the not too distant future. The beer will now leave an even more bitter aftertaste than her makers ever intended to.
We talked about everything but Nothing. Respectively trying to keep our poker faces straight and cautiously avoided any references that could provoke an akward soliloquy about the other night . We took the easy way out and pretended it never happened at all.
"So what did you do last Saturday?"
"How's work coming along?"
"What's going to happen in school when you return?"
"My granny asked about you but I was too tired from work to explain"
"Yeah, so and so are getting married. I don't think I am going to be there"
It did not take an African Studies major to recognize two confused grown ups who were trying their best to dance their way around the bush while remained seated at the bar over beers in the middle of broad day afternoon.
I got sick of being stuck in the pretentiousness of the whole moment that made a mockery of my genuine feelings for the one woman whom I love in my life now.
I looked at her, drew some cash to cover the tab for both of us, stood and turned to leave.
"Are you going to call?"
Finally, her voice rang with the familiar sincerity that I was used to.
"I don't know"
That was easily one of the stupidest thing I've said out of my emotionally-challenged convoluted ego before I started my stuttered steps towards the exit that loomed so small now. A part of me wanted to just bolt the fuck out yet the rest of me wanted to stay on and hope that things would somehow take an unexpected turn for the better.; pretty much like how I took that detour turn expecting to sort things out with her only to unexpectedly conclude that things between us are more bungled than ever.
Burdened by the weight of a million pound from my heavy heart, my anxious footsteps soon slowed to a halt before I turned around to face her.
"Do you love me?"
Those words just rolled out uncontrollably. It wasn't like I really needed to know. Perhaps I was seeking an affirmation for existing. For Our shared existence.
The soft light from the bar top cascaded upon her beautiful face reflecting a deep glistening lovely glow that seemed to mock my silent hope that hangs precariously upon the sword of Damocles.
"I don't know"
The sword dropped and slashed my vulnerability into pieces.
If there was a moment that I felt a genuine need to cry in this evil rotten heart of mine, it was then. I felt like she had just stabbed me with a chainsaw, ripped out my heart and then promptly proceeded to dumping it into the toilet before shitting all over it.
But I held back my tears that soon turned into rage that one would expect from someone who felt unappreciated. I gathered all my strength and afforded her a faint smile before I finally exited that fuckin' fucked up shit hole for torn lovers that took the disguise of a friendly neighbourhood bar.
Words of wisdom from my best friend kept on ringing loud and clear on auto-repeat in my mind with her cold frozen gaze piercing thru the back of my head as I made my dignified exit from that place of broken dreams.
"Now you know how Rejection feels. You rejected her all the damn time. Now it's your fuckin' turn. Now you can think about how SHE felt before this"
And the Night mare rides on. On a december black psalm.
5 Comments:
Hey Kit, sorry to hear about that... I find it weird how a guy later on realizes that they like or even love the girl after an amount of time the affair is over... Maybe its some mind game that we play on ourselves. That damn challenge that we thrive for. I highly doubt the sex was bad if you guys fucked 4 times, don't be hard on yourself.
I can't go on digging roses from your grave, to linger on beyond the beyond.
You're always getting yourself caught in the same situations. Be a man, do the right thing. Keep your dick in your pants.
The mind fuckes things up. Do what you feel like doing. But ... its really such a poignant post. You EMO!
The girl's a bitch. If she really liked you she would have fought for you rather than threw back your own words "I don't know."
You did the right thing by smiling and being you're cool self. Show to her you're no pussy.
All the best!
fourth paragraph from the bottom
k, you can kill me now
=p
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