I deserve better.

I've been repeating these words in my head like a mantra. This past week, it is how I greet myself in the mornings. I wake up and my mind, as a habit, starts thinking about him. But instead of allowing myself to wallow in some sentimental, nostalgic thought, I shake it off and tell myself, I deserve better.

Because you know what? I do. 

I mean I know this. It is not an overnight realisation. It is not something that just suddenly came to me. I know this. I demand quality in almost all aspects of my life. My family, my friends, my job, where I live, the places I eat.

I work hard and I get paid well for it. I have been blessed with a supportive, loving family. I mean we have our issues but underlying all that is a steady, unwavering love which keeps me strong even in my darkest moments. And my friends... I have no time for wayward friends.

I generally eat well. I take care of my body. My studio is cosy and comfortable because I've made it so. I love going back to my place to unwind after a long day at work. I've filled it with photographs of happy memories, little plants, plenty of books, my travel artifacts and scented candles. The rent is costly, but I pay it because I deserve a good place to live. I bought myself a decent car because I wanted one to drive around. I buy myself gorgeous shoes because I basically deserve those little treats. I spend money on manicures and pedicures and facials and spas and little holidays because I deserve all of this.

So why is it, when I demand for so much from basically all aspects of my life, do I settle for so little when it comes to a boy? Why do I make excuses for him and tell myself it is OK that he did not show on the day we were supposed to meet to have our 'talk'? Why did I so readily accept his apology the next day when he claimed 'some things came up'... when I knew he was deliberately avoiding me? Why did I excuse his behaviour based on some bullshit that I've been fed that says guys hate confrontation and so it makes it OK for him to not show? Newsflash - I hate confrontations too, but I'm willing to do it because WE FUCKING HAVE ISSUES TO RESOLVE!

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Talking to a friend last Thursday showed me just how many excuses I was making for him. All to justify me continuing to see him, talk to him and be with him. The cherry on the icing has to be when I told her "You know, I feel if I gave up on him, there might not be anyone else who'd really be there for him. He is that isolated."

She looked at me and said what any good friend would in that situation "Babe, that honestly is his problem. You should take care of yourself first, don't you think?"

Hmm. Succinct.

So, no doubt he has been my friend. No doubt he has cheered me up when I was feeling down. No doubt we have fun when we are together.

But, we have crossed lines that friends should not have crossed. We have said and done things which make a platonic relationship impossible. All that loving in the dark, forbidden touches, whispers of sweet nothings, only to be greeted by the harsh light of the next day, where he pretends I didn't spend the night in his arms and I pretend it's fine, because I don't want to bloody rock the boat - it is not what I want.

Because guess what, I fucking deserve better.

I'm an idiot.. and he's stupid (part 2)

He kissed me that night.

And two days later he bailed on meeting me for dinner saying he had other plans he had forgotten about.

When I texted him saying ‘That’s too bad. Was looking forward to it’ his reply was ‘It would have been a great idea if things weren’t getting so complicated. Another time.’

Angry, I texted back ‘If that’s how you feel there won’t be another time. I’ll be out of your hair to make it all less complicated’.

Knowing how he avoided me like the plague when I get angry, I did not expect a response. So I was surprised when 4 minutes later, I got a long text from him saying ‘Think we have some issues. Cause we just can’t be doing this all the time and we have to move on somehow. Just like you, I have to sort my stuff out and since I can’t speak to you about it I am in a bit of a pickle. So, lets take a step back and see how to sort this out.’

It took me 3 hours to reply. I’d waited till I’d gotten my girlfriend Miss X’s input on this. We tried coming up with an appropriate response over some margaritas. After dissecting the text to pieces, we decided the best way to go would be a short and succinct text that did not show him I’d been affected by what he had said.

So my reply ‘I guess you’re right. Sorry to put you in a pickle’.

I didn’t hear from him for over a week until he called 2 nights ago. He asked me how things were and when I was starting my new job. We chatted a short bit on that. Then I asked him why he called.

His reply… ‘Simply’.


What. The. Fuck.

I'm an idiot.. and he's stupid

“I chose to be with you now, didn’t I?” Mr. Stupid told me when we were standing at the bar in the club we had just entered. Slightly appeased, I smiled at him.

But the events of the night came flooding back and my smile faded. What started as an ordinary Friday night, having a couple of drinks with a bunch of friends turned into something I hadn’t quite anticipated happening, at least not so soon.

I met the girl Mr Stupid was dating.

At first it was a bunch of us seated together having drinks, including a close friend from work, her boyfriend, my ex-boss, his friend. And Mr Stupid. Soon everyone left and it was just me and Mr Stupid. I was sipping my mojito when he ordered another round of his whisky with water and we were talking about something I cannot remember, when suddenly out of nowhere this girl comes up to us and plops herself onto Mr Stupid’s chair practically falling on to his lap and gives him a huge hug. Ignoring me for the first few minutes, she talks loudly and fast with him. I’m a little taken aback, so I sit back and watch the whole scene in front of my eyes. She was pretty, I’ll give her that.With long curly but a little unkempt hair and minimal make up (was this his type?). But she was wearing a pants with a ridiculous length, hovering somewhere between her mid-calf and her ankle. I was glad I was wearing a dress. Then I caught myself. What the hell was I doing?

And boy, could she talk a lot. I saw Mr Stupid shift in his chair, was it discomfort? Still talking to him, she turns to me and then says, “Oh sorry. Hi! I’m Miss Gab-A-Lot” and extends her hand to me. I shake her hand and give a smile I’m not feeling and say, “Hi. LittleMissAngry”. She smiles back, turns and continues talking to him. She seems a little too excited and the glass she’s holding follow her hand movements precariously, till it slips out of her fingers, spills half its contents onto his trousers, my dress, pantyhose and shoes (I was sitting pretty close to him and she had somehow managed to plop herself between us) before it went crashing to the floor. She gets all flustered, crouched to the floor trying to clean it up when I realize she’s drunk.

Oh (!)

Her friend comes to get her, while apologizing to Mr. Stupid and me. I dismiss it with a smile and she’s gone for the moment. I turn to Mr Stupid and ask him “Did you know she was here?”.

He says “Yes”.

Before I could continue, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and it is her again. She asks me.. “So, you’re MissAngry?” I say yes. She asks the same question again to which I say yes again. Then she goes “The MissAngry?”

I’m not sure how to respond, so I smile and nod. The she says “Ah. I’ve checked you out on Facebook!” and she turns and walks away.

I turn to Mr Stupid and give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?” I say.

“She’s a little drunk” he says almost apologetically.

“You think?” I said. “And you knew she was here! When were you planning to tell me?”

“I don’t know. I did not anticipate that happening” he said. He looks caught between disbelief and amazement.

“Well, it did. And my shoes are wet and sticky. I cannot believe this. Did you plan this? Having two women in one night? Was that the plan?” I say harshly my anger building up. “She bloody ruined my shoes!”

“I’m sorry. Obviously, I didn’t plan this. And I obviously can’t handle two women in one night…” he said trying to make a joke out of the whole thing. I give him a blank stare.

“I want to leave” I said.

We left the spot, (and to my amazement) he still went over to say goodbye to the drunk lady friend of his…but not before asking me “Do you mind if I go over and say bye to her?”

Idiot.

We left the spot, and went to another club in the same building. He got me a glass vodka because I told him I needed another drink to erase whatever had just transpired. And then it hit me, what if he wanted to be with her??

Feeling sick to the stomach, I asked him “Hey, do you want to get back downstairs? I mean if you want to go back there, its fine. I’ll leave.”

To which he said, looking me right in the eye “I chose to be with you now, didn’t I?”

And I stood there, relishing the moment, thinking that at least for now, I had him all to myself.

Fools in love

I was talking to my friend last night. She’s with a guy who appears not ready to be in a committed relationship. His excuse is that he is focusing all of his time and energy to his work. Relationships require too much effort and he just cannot afford it right now. If that is not an indication of a guy who’s not ready to be with you, I’m not sure what is. But my friend, who despite wanting more from him, is meeting him for drinks this week. She is aware of all the facts, but she just likes him too much to refuse.

Are we all fools when it comes to love?

I’m trying to maintain a platonic relationship with a guy I thought I loved a while ago. But if all I want is to be just friends why does the idea of him being with someone else make me feel that someone has punched me in the stomach? And why is it that whenever Lady Gaga sings her bad lyrics ‘I don’t wanna be friends…want your bad romance’ I find myself bopping my head, nodding and agreeing and thinking of only one person in particular.

Sometimes I wonder, is love really so complicated or am I just making it so. Do I only want what I cannot have? Am I only after the chase? Why is it that almost always the anticipation of my time together with someone feels better than the reality of it? And then why does it again seem better on hindsight? Is it nostalgia - making it more romantic than it really was? Every time we put pen to paper, we are writing on hindsight, riding on something that has already happened, something in the past. And when we write it, do we embellish, making what was only mediocre seem more special than it truly was?

Love should be experienced and not just felt, I read that somewhere. But in most of my past relationships I feel I’ve only felt it, either anticipating something that is going to happen and then thinking about it fondly on hindsight. Was it because the experience in itself was so fleeting? In all honestly I can only think of one time when I truly felt I was experiencing love. My then boyfriend was sitting at the computer trying to get some work done and I was sitting on the couch next to him trying to read. I looked up to find him frowning, deep in concentration. Wanting some attention myself, I went up to him and sat on his lap facing him. I remember him smiling then gently pushing my head to rest on his chest where I could hear his heartbeat. I closed my eyes and allowed him to continue working. The love I felt for him at that point was so overpowering that I made a mental note to never forget it. And I never did.

Is it sad that I can only recall one such incredible moment of love? I’m sure I have experienced others, it’s just that I can’t recall them. Fleeting moments passed by, never to be relived or felt again the same way.

And we keep putting ourselves out there, going on dates, meeting new people trying to make a connection, trying to recapture the feeling of being in love with someone who could possibly make us feel those moments...again.

And therein lies one of my biggest fears - what if I don't?

These moments are so rare, so few and so fleeting – it just does not seem enough. I feel I’m missing out on something bigger. There must be more to love than these rare, few, fleeting moments. Otherwise, I’m thinking.. love is overrated.