The trouble with the aftertaste.
My dad drives me home from the hospital. Its pouring hell out here... of course. Not enough for my soul to bleed, it has to rain cats and dogs too!! Fine, big man in the sky. I can take it. Just keep dishing it out, my love for You is unshakable.
( Dear God, in case You read this, i wasnt challenging You or even testing Your limitless powers. Please dont unleash Your divinely inspired wrath on me. Your humble servant, John X... ok, i know You know its me... i was just messing with You... not in vain or anything, i would never do that. I heard Ray take Your name in vain last week and i cautioned him about it but i dont know if he took me seriously. You should look into that by the way. I love You, Rich.)
This should be the easiest part of the relationship, the post breakup stage. To be honest, i've gotten a kick out of how good i am at this in the past. But this time its different. I've been with Angels and Goddesses in the past but Cherries, I'm finding, are a flavour of their own. A flavour that no matter how hard you try to wipe out, just seems to leave a bitter taste. "They say you cant turn a bad girl good/ so once a good girl's gone bad,she's gone forever/ i mourn forever/ shit i gotta live with the fact i did you wrong forever..."
"You'll have to clear out the spare room, " daddy's calm voice stirs me out of my self-inflicted misery. "I'd filled it up with my newspaper collection. Stupid Sudoku!"
We can both laugh at that unpretentiously. He's all i have in this world, this gentle giant steering me clear of my angst. Perhaps the reason why my love for my father is so deep is that he never kicks me when i'm down. Oh you can be sure he knows how to dish out the tough love like the time i cut my arm on a low branch and he poured salt in my eye claiming it would distract me from the sting of the alcohol he was applying to the wound. It worked, regretfully. No my dad knows how to be A Dad, but because he's had to raise me on his own, he also knows how to be a shoulder to lean on.
"No, daddy, i'm not gonna impose my self on you."
"What? Are you too good for my crummy little house now?" He knows the game i'm playing. Just cos i'm wounded doesnt mean i should show it. No, he has to ask me to come stay with him. Thats how it works.
"No its not the size of the place, its the rats!"
"Oh, they're 'rats' now! They used to be your play buddies!" his laugh is a hearty one and it warms a place deep within my spirit. "I'm sure they've missed your company as much as you've missed leading them." Maybe i will survive this. I simply dont know anymore.
The first step is to delete her number from your phone. The very last thing you want to do after a breakup is find yourself tempted to call her or even worse.... sms her! It seems innocent and hurt-free but it never is. Many a terrible marriage have been temporarily resuscitated over the dreaded reconciliation sms and almost always ended with painful results. It is a tough first step but a necessary one. C-H-E-R-R.....Y. Delete. Are you sure? Yes or No?
Yes.
You keep wanting to have evolved beyond a certain point. The relationships grow more serious, last somewhat longer and you find yourself thinking, "wow, this might be it." As you grow older, that thought becomes more of a desperate hope, " this better be it!" So many people out there seem to live out fairytale romances with the lightest of ease and in the early stages, you begin to believe you might be one of these people. The ones that make love look effortless. But no one wants to be involved with a martyr simply because no one is willing to live up to the martyrdom. No one says anything. You bear it out and try to focus on the funny faces and lovemaking sounds. Until one day she stares you in the face, teary eyed and as beautiful as the first time you fell in love with her and asks, "Why cant i make you happy?" And you know what the worst part is? Its not that you dont know the answer to that question. No one does. The worst part is that she does make you happy. Happier than anyone you've known before her.
So why dont you tell her that? Why dont you hold onto her? Knowing what has come before and recognising that this taste is a completely unique one, why do you have to be you? Is it curiosity or some undiagnosed pathological condition? You tell her you dont love her and then she stabs you.
I have to remember to block her email address (same reason as the phone number deletion) and start to sort out which people i will be able to avoid because they belonged to our life as a couple. Have to get rid of all her stuff, throw it in a box and bury it in some hard to reach place. Not even a boxful , didnt even last a month. But enough in there to destroy me. I'd like to throw it out as i have done in the past but this time i just cant. The inexplicable taste of cherries invades my senses, momentarily overwhelming me. But no..... lets see, have to remember to get my place fumigated, to intoxicate it with a poison less deadly than the one she laced me with. Need to work her out of my system.
I should have loved her. Should have told her that i did love her. That i still do and fear that i always might. Even my hypotheticals are non-committal at this point. Perhaps it will never happen, not the way i had envisioned it would. Each time it happens, i reflect on how much harder this break up is than the last one. How do i find the words to express the empty, painfilled love sewer i now find myself suffocating in? I wish for misery... for pain, hurt, cold, warmth, ANYTHING!! But i am banished to this.... to THIS. Nothing and nowhere.
It was her. It still is. Stab-wound aside, she fills my heart with unbearable warmth even now. The worst thing i can do at this point is think about her but its all i want to do. Maybe if i think hard enough, some cosmic waves will be transmitted that will cut through the cynicism of this world and find their way to her to let her know that i was stupid and wrong. And STUPID. I just need to know what to do now. What do i do now???
"You man up, son, " my dad swoops in and rescues me again. My safety net, backseat driving me clear of my own troubled self. " You man up and do what any man with even an ounce of honour would do."
"I know... i know...." he's right, the lovable bastard.
"You take a deep breath, suck it up, get down on your knees and beg for her to look at you again."
What??? I mean, "What???"
"The time has come for you to ask yourself if you're gonna be able to live with the fact that you lost her. This one." We pull up to the comforting familiarity of my childhood home, the very foundation of who i am. "I've known you longer than you think and she loved you better than you deserved. But its never too late until you give up."
"So i just,,, just win her back, huh?"
"Well, get her to look at you first without wanting to plunge a kitchen knife into you. Lets start there."
"How did you know?"
My Support Rock steps out of the car and heads to the front door, grinning, "I loaned her the knife!" Heartless bastard! "Now get your ass in here and come say hi to your rodent buddies." He disappears into the house.
Get her to look at me.... Is there any chance that she might? Can i dare to hope? Because if she looked at me, talked to me then maybe... just maybe....who knows? "Thanks for helping me with my bags!" I yell after him. Maybe i will survive this. C-H-E-R-R-Y. Delete. Are you sure? Yes or no?
Am i?.... sure?
( Dear God, in case You read this, i wasnt challenging You or even testing Your limitless powers. Please dont unleash Your divinely inspired wrath on me. Your humble servant, John X... ok, i know You know its me... i was just messing with You... not in vain or anything, i would never do that. I heard Ray take Your name in vain last week and i cautioned him about it but i dont know if he took me seriously. You should look into that by the way. I love You, Rich.)
This should be the easiest part of the relationship, the post breakup stage. To be honest, i've gotten a kick out of how good i am at this in the past. But this time its different. I've been with Angels and Goddesses in the past but Cherries, I'm finding, are a flavour of their own. A flavour that no matter how hard you try to wipe out, just seems to leave a bitter taste. "They say you cant turn a bad girl good/ so once a good girl's gone bad,she's gone forever/ i mourn forever/ shit i gotta live with the fact i did you wrong forever..."
"You'll have to clear out the spare room, " daddy's calm voice stirs me out of my self-inflicted misery. "I'd filled it up with my newspaper collection. Stupid Sudoku!"
We can both laugh at that unpretentiously. He's all i have in this world, this gentle giant steering me clear of my angst. Perhaps the reason why my love for my father is so deep is that he never kicks me when i'm down. Oh you can be sure he knows how to dish out the tough love like the time i cut my arm on a low branch and he poured salt in my eye claiming it would distract me from the sting of the alcohol he was applying to the wound. It worked, regretfully. No my dad knows how to be A Dad, but because he's had to raise me on his own, he also knows how to be a shoulder to lean on.
"No, daddy, i'm not gonna impose my self on you."
"What? Are you too good for my crummy little house now?" He knows the game i'm playing. Just cos i'm wounded doesnt mean i should show it. No, he has to ask me to come stay with him. Thats how it works.
"No its not the size of the place, its the rats!"
"Oh, they're 'rats' now! They used to be your play buddies!" his laugh is a hearty one and it warms a place deep within my spirit. "I'm sure they've missed your company as much as you've missed leading them." Maybe i will survive this. I simply dont know anymore.
The first step is to delete her number from your phone. The very last thing you want to do after a breakup is find yourself tempted to call her or even worse.... sms her! It seems innocent and hurt-free but it never is. Many a terrible marriage have been temporarily resuscitated over the dreaded reconciliation sms and almost always ended with painful results. It is a tough first step but a necessary one. C-H-E-R-R.....Y. Delete. Are you sure? Yes or No?
Yes.
You keep wanting to have evolved beyond a certain point. The relationships grow more serious, last somewhat longer and you find yourself thinking, "wow, this might be it." As you grow older, that thought becomes more of a desperate hope, " this better be it!" So many people out there seem to live out fairytale romances with the lightest of ease and in the early stages, you begin to believe you might be one of these people. The ones that make love look effortless. But no one wants to be involved with a martyr simply because no one is willing to live up to the martyrdom. No one says anything. You bear it out and try to focus on the funny faces and lovemaking sounds. Until one day she stares you in the face, teary eyed and as beautiful as the first time you fell in love with her and asks, "Why cant i make you happy?" And you know what the worst part is? Its not that you dont know the answer to that question. No one does. The worst part is that she does make you happy. Happier than anyone you've known before her.
So why dont you tell her that? Why dont you hold onto her? Knowing what has come before and recognising that this taste is a completely unique one, why do you have to be you? Is it curiosity or some undiagnosed pathological condition? You tell her you dont love her and then she stabs you.
I have to remember to block her email address (same reason as the phone number deletion) and start to sort out which people i will be able to avoid because they belonged to our life as a couple. Have to get rid of all her stuff, throw it in a box and bury it in some hard to reach place. Not even a boxful , didnt even last a month. But enough in there to destroy me. I'd like to throw it out as i have done in the past but this time i just cant. The inexplicable taste of cherries invades my senses, momentarily overwhelming me. But no..... lets see, have to remember to get my place fumigated, to intoxicate it with a poison less deadly than the one she laced me with. Need to work her out of my system.
I should have loved her. Should have told her that i did love her. That i still do and fear that i always might. Even my hypotheticals are non-committal at this point. Perhaps it will never happen, not the way i had envisioned it would. Each time it happens, i reflect on how much harder this break up is than the last one. How do i find the words to express the empty, painfilled love sewer i now find myself suffocating in? I wish for misery... for pain, hurt, cold, warmth, ANYTHING!! But i am banished to this.... to THIS. Nothing and nowhere.
It was her. It still is. Stab-wound aside, she fills my heart with unbearable warmth even now. The worst thing i can do at this point is think about her but its all i want to do. Maybe if i think hard enough, some cosmic waves will be transmitted that will cut through the cynicism of this world and find their way to her to let her know that i was stupid and wrong. And STUPID. I just need to know what to do now. What do i do now???
"You man up, son, " my dad swoops in and rescues me again. My safety net, backseat driving me clear of my own troubled self. " You man up and do what any man with even an ounce of honour would do."
"I know... i know...." he's right, the lovable bastard.
"You take a deep breath, suck it up, get down on your knees and beg for her to look at you again."
What??? I mean, "What???"
"The time has come for you to ask yourself if you're gonna be able to live with the fact that you lost her. This one." We pull up to the comforting familiarity of my childhood home, the very foundation of who i am. "I've known you longer than you think and she loved you better than you deserved. But its never too late until you give up."
"So i just,,, just win her back, huh?"
"Well, get her to look at you first without wanting to plunge a kitchen knife into you. Lets start there."
"How did you know?"
My Support Rock steps out of the car and heads to the front door, grinning, "I loaned her the knife!" Heartless bastard! "Now get your ass in here and come say hi to your rodent buddies." He disappears into the house.
Get her to look at me.... Is there any chance that she might? Can i dare to hope? Because if she looked at me, talked to me then maybe... just maybe....who knows? "Thanks for helping me with my bags!" I yell after him. Maybe i will survive this. C-H-E-R-R-Y. Delete. Are you sure? Yes or no?
Am i?.... sure?
posted by R. Wagaba at 4:26 AM
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