Some days, you give up on waiting for him to come back and leave the greys for purple, the red lingerie for black lace. You change your perfume, cut your hair short, get your new heels out.
He exists in his absences too and becomes the one relative point in your life. The yardstick you measure all other men against. So you stack him up in a cardboard box and leave it in a dusty attic and get away from it all. Perfect clothes and perfect hands and perfect feet stop mattering. You walk among the world, a stranger to yourself. You sit with your non-friends in tiny living rooms and smoke a single Davidoff, then two, then five. You progressively watch them get drunk together and proceed to end the night dancing to loud loud loud music.
And on nights like that, when you leave your guard down, some charming stranger comes to you with a smile, an offer to buy you a drink and a promise to treat you better.
Monday, March 8, 2010
I came out of the shower to find her crying on my bed and for an instant I hated him.
I think this is a mistake.
I've talked it over with her. I told her we're just giving it a shot and I'm not sure.
What did she say?
She said she's not the kind who gets jealous or possessive and she'll be okay if it doesn't work out.
You don't get it, do you? That's how girls work. They're fragile little things. When they say 'I'll be okay', they mean 'Please don't leave me.'
I had warned the bastard.
I think I'll text her and tell her it's not working.
How fucking cold can you get?!
I can't do it, okay? I just can't fucking do it with her sitting in front of me with her face like a child's and with the sadness in her eyes. It's the way she looks at me when she knows I'm about to say something hurtful. I want to put my arm around her and console her and then things get out of hand.
Jesus. Put a zip on it.
You don't get it, do you? That's how boys work. We need to take things atleast one step ahead. You look at us, we want to hold your hand; you hold our hand, we want to hold you close; you hold us, we want to kiss you; you kiss us, we want more.
Where did it go wrong?
We went at supersonic speed. She wants to hold hands all the time and kiss in the light of the lamp in her room at night, not moonlight walks and stolen kisses. I wanted to know how ugly she was as a child, I want her to know the names of my brothers, I wanted to know because that would make me want her before I have her. I'm such a fucking pussy. Sometimes, I feel like I was the girl in the relationship. She became easy, too easy and then she lost all her charm.
Someone should have told her to stop looking at him the way she did.
Someone should have told her to always keep him waiting.
Someone should have told her to never let her guard down.
Sit by me, for a while.
After he told her it was over, she sat on the floor with her head in his lap. He sat frozen, without the strength to tell her it would be okay. She cried and her tears lazed down her stricken face.
Someone should ban Disney. It gives you these hopes about princes and love and happily ever after. But that's not how real life works, is it? The prince shoves love on his horse and leaves. Happily ever after doesn't exist.
It was physically excruciating to hear her say that, the way she was the only one talking, in a widowed monologue.
Please don't look at me. It just makes me want to peck your cheek. It just makes it all so much more real. I don't know where I went wrong.
You never break the cardinal rule. You never love so much so fast.
I still want to be with him. I still want to text him and tell him to come back. I still want it to work. I'll take it slowly. I'll make it work. I didn't know what he wanted because he didn't tell me. And my girl friends said I was too good for him and I should break up with him but I just want him back.
The salt of her tears left a wet patch on my shoulder.
Shush, I said, not knowing how to mend a broken heart.
I feel like a dick.
He kept repeating it to himself again and again as if he was possessed, not knowing beyond a point I had stopped listening.
Later that night, I sit with you. You break my silences.
I saw it coming.
I did too, but I didn't see the pain.
With one comes the other.
It's just been twenty days, I don't understand how it hurts so much.
You hold me closer, kiss the top of my head. You sit and console me.
I lean against you and all I can think of is how much it will hurt when you finally realise we have to let go too.