Aftermath

I wonder why I feel scared to use the “L” word. I know it is exactly what I feel but for some reason I hesitate every time it is on the tip of my tongue. I love him. I love him with my soul and it hurts so bad that he isn’t with me. I have cried thrice today not in anguish rather from this overwhelming emotion that I refuse to acknowledge fully for fear of being judged as a dreamer because the world is full of cynics these days. No one believes in love anymore. I used to be one of those cynics until I realized I was going against my nature. I do believe in love. I love everyday and so to say that love is for idiots will be to go against my truth.

Of late I have been planning taking love over. If love won’t come to me I will go after love. Who is it that said we can have anything and everything we want only if we reached out to get it? So I am going to reach out and get what I want. Everything I look at, the future, my dreams, my hopes; all of them revolve around him. I have tried to forget; to move on but I cannot do it. He still remains at large in my life, my heart, my soul. I wonder what he is doing, whether he is thinking of me at all. I want him so bad I want to scream. I feel torn apart inside without him and I don’t think I want to go on like this so it is time to take matters into my own hands. It is time for her to take control over this matter too. No more flimsiness and tears, she takes control of this situation. Remember the story of Abigail? She went out to meet her king. Brave, courageous Abigail. So why do I have this name then if not for the wisdom and strength that it represents? I will go out and I will prepare a feast for my king and I will go to him. No longer will I sit and wait in vain. I will go after him. Whatever happens happens.

That little speech up there? That was last week. So I rolled the plan into action. Wednesday after driving lessons I went to the salon. Body scrub, wax, pedicure, manicure and henna tattooing on my lower back were just the beginning of my great plan. I had ready my little black number, my “fuck me” dress. I had ready my hot, purple heels, my gold necklace; I even got a new black teddy. Add all this to my sexy self, my nicely toned bod, my sweet sexy ass swinging with the renewed spring in my step. I even got me kungu-our very own coastal aphrodisiac.

I went on with a bottle of wine, a bunch of roses which I plucked petals off of and sprinkled them on the bed. I had cream and peaches; I had music and you name all else. Did it work? No. I ended up with it thrown back in my face. I am actually sort of surprised that until now I have not shed a single tear. Must have grown tough skin at some point. I was hurt; my pride, for the umpteenth time, my heart and even my very soul. I think the reason I did not cry is because I was also ready for the reality that it might flop. And it did resulting in a bitter phonecall and being told to fuck off. I felt so bad and I wondered what it would take to remove the feeling of “trying too hard” and feeling like a cheap, throw-myself-all-over-a-guy-when-I’m-not-wanted whore. I felt like the world’s number one idiot but a sexy, hot one lol.

So I packed up my stuff and called a cab and went back home. Too bad for him actually, I ended up thinking. He sure passed up a treat. Massage, lap dance, bubble bath and the best sex ever; and oh, that teddy is delicious. I simply am scrumptious and I know it. Maybe it was for the best that he didn’t see me for we wouldn’t want him to break his “marriage vows”, would we? Bwaaahahahahahahahaha! Ok, that’s just evil but I love it. I was snubbed and shushed and kicked to the curb in a very bad way. Thank God my self esteem survived that. I am still the same happy, bubbly person. I must say that there I have surprised myself. It has helped also that he called to try and explain things and express that he would not like for us to be enemies even though he is moving on with his life without me. Too little too late I would have said last night, but I respect what he did and I appreciate it. I didn’t expect it actually, not from him and not after the things he had said but humans are full of surprises. I never made it to his heart, he says. It makes me wonder though, what he meant when he kept saying I was in his heart and how his “soon-to-be-ex” was on his mind. I wonder then how I managed to somehow weasel out of this heart of his and suddenly become this person he wants nothing to do with one minute and the next claim the opposite. And then he asks if he ever lied to me? I’m just ranting but all this is behind me. Remember pursuit of happiness, I keep saying to myself. Do anything to survive and aim to achieve your goals. Step on people if you have to; do whatever it takes. In pursuit of happiness people are bound to get hurt. I was a means to an end and I am bitterly swallowing that reality but I don’t give up. Life is tremendous and I have amazing things waiting for me, lying ahead of me and so I get up and wipe my sweet, sweet ass and move on.

So here I am today with my hawt, sexy self. I sit here wondering if there ever is a guy out there for me. Until God decides to answer that query, I have taken a vow of celibacy. No sexual relations for me until He answers. By this time next year, if he hasn’t shown up, I seek a sperm donor. Artificial insemination and I am ready to start my legacy. And life goes on… my love for him? That will never go away. I thought of burying him where the sun doesn’t shine but I cannot. My mind reasons like that; tells me to hurt him in some way. Evil, this power outside. My soul cherishes him regardless and I always follow my soul and do its bidding. Will I ever stop loving him? No, but I will not stop here and put up a tent and wait in vain like that woman in Great Expectations. My life goes on with memories of him safely locked in my heart where I can go and draw the experience of good times from it. I got pissed when he called the second time asking for a truce. “ I want to go on with my life but I don’t want you to be mad at me”. Well I was mad. “What do you want from me then?” Die, I say. I was pretty rude and mean and brutally honest too but I still respected him for making an attempt at salvaging what was left of this I-don’t-even-know-what-to-call-it-anymore. Are we supposed to be friends now or just civil to each other? Or do the right thing by society and pretend to be civil and say tight helloes when and if we meet on the streets of this annoyingly small town. I just don’t know. This is because I don’t understand him and I am still wary of him. If I am bipolar he must have invented the word. One minute he writes me off his life the next he is asking about the good tidings I have going on in my life. So honestly I’m unsure of how to deal with this. He wants me to have nothing to do with his life and yet he wants to remain a part in mine even though not in the way I would have liked it to be. Does he want to cultivate and nurture friendship? I just don’t know and I’m going to be walking on eggshells with this for my own sake before I find myself embroiled in another mess of another nature. There are many of us borderline psychotics out there though some are refusing to acknowledge that fact. Oh well, I am a happy psycho… dihihihihihihihi…