When B came into her life she was unable to recall much about her past, she reverted to a familiar person, a friend, a person whom she was once upon a time involved with, as her confidant, that was B. B decided to step up to the plate, and against her wish he fucked her. She was not exactly refusing him, but she was not exactly agreeing with him.
He had an agenda. He wanted to expand his entourage of women that he bedded; she did not know that of course. She just wanted to feel something, and that something turned out to be blind love. She wanted to feel what it was like to fall in love. They each had an agenda. Her agenda was more ambitious and self-inflicted. His agenda was more conniving because he never told her that he had others. She was innocent and naive for someone her age, but that was before she had her memory unblocked.
When B and she started to develop intense emotions, she started to gain her memory back. She realized that she was often looking for love in her early 20s, and she was mildly infatuated with B back then. When B left her the first time, or, rather, when they drifted apart, she was able to move on without much thoughts because she had others in her life to take her mind off B.
When she felt that B was lying to her, about his relationship with others, she decided that it was time to reenact her old persona, by gaining her upper hand back, by starting to see others. She was rather conflicted at first, to start seeing other men who met her in different functions, but she then rationalized that B had broken her heart, and therefore, the only way to keep B in her life, was to become invested in other relationships. This was her old strategy.
There was a fundamental problem with her behavior. She still loved him. His notorious behavior, his constant, long standing absence made her missed him even more. Whenever she grew emotionally close to him, he pulled away, whenever she was less emotional with him, he seemed to wanted her closer.
This constant push and pull dynamics fueled their relationship and also destroyed her faith, her trust and her hope. Her initial plan had backfired. The problem with love was that when a woman like her fell in love, she was the most passionate and devoted person in the world; but when she felt betrayed and cheated, she became the most vengeful person. She wanted to see him suffer as she once did, and she wanted to make him to pay for his lies and deceptions.
Never once in her life that she wanted anyone to feel her pain as much as she did with him. She told him that she fucked others. She did not want to be his any longer. She still loved him. Part of her remained that innocent, fragile, and faithful person; yet part of her became this woman who threw herself into other men's open arms without much thought about him.
She would have stayed loyal and loving, she nearly did that for a year, but love and betrayal, passion and vengeance often came hand in hand.
Never ever be stung by a scorpion. They used to say.
She was one. She had a scorpion tattooed on her back when she had decided to rid of him, to demote him from a boyfriend to someone who may or may not be a friend.
She spent hours crying, talking to her therapist, until her therapist told her to shut up and stop seeing this man, B. So she stopped seeing her therapist.
If it was love, then perhaps B failed to recognize it, or knew how to handle it. B would not know what it was like to have loved and lost. She was convinced that B was heartless and self-serving. B had never cared about her, not when she was dead sick, nor when she was in need of emotional support.
With that she attempted to move on. But on occasion, she found the rare courage to fess up to B. "I miss you." She'd end all her emails like that for a while. As if it was a code word for "I love you". Except she dared not to write such words. She was afraid of what it would mean to B and how it would affect her.
She imagined one day he'd finally disappear for good.
And there would not be anything for her to do but cry for a long time. She'd dream of him. She'd wish that one day she'd see him again. She would want to stay in touch. She would want to know why he stopped loving her.
Then that feeling would stop. She'd forget about him just like she did for the first time fifteen years ago. She would stop loving him. She would forget about this turbulent, passionate, love-like relationship.
This time, it would be for good.
Desert Storm
I have always wondered, suppose I have loved and been loved, and you and I are separated by vast space and infinite time, the only sign of your existence is my fleeting thoughts and fading memory, and every shred of evidence, is gone, by your careful design - the not-so-accidental removal of notes, cards, photos, videos and that have served as reminders of you, me, and you and me, the sworn secrecy of the state of our being, the disappearing act that you have perfected over decades of sound practice. You are a creature of habit, and you are the king of your castle with many dark tunnels and escape hatches.
He had an agenda. He wanted to expand his entourage of women that he bedded; she did not know that of course. She just wanted to feel something, and that something turned out to be blind love. She wanted to feel what it was like to fall in love. They each had an agenda. Her agenda was more ambitious and self-inflicted. His agenda was more conniving because he never told her that he had others. She was innocent and naive for someone her age, but that was before she had her memory unblocked.
When B and she started to develop intense emotions, she started to gain her memory back. She realized that she was often looking for love in her early 20s, and she was mildly infatuated with B back then. When B left her the first time, or, rather, when they drifted apart, she was able to move on without much thoughts because she had others in her life to take her mind off B.
When she felt that B was lying to her, about his relationship with others, she decided that it was time to reenact her old persona, by gaining her upper hand back, by starting to see others. She was rather conflicted at first, to start seeing other men who met her in different functions, but she then rationalized that B had broken her heart, and therefore, the only way to keep B in her life, was to become invested in other relationships. This was her old strategy.
There was a fundamental problem with her behavior. She still loved him. His notorious behavior, his constant, long standing absence made her missed him even more. Whenever she grew emotionally close to him, he pulled away, whenever she was less emotional with him, he seemed to wanted her closer.
This constant push and pull dynamics fueled their relationship and also destroyed her faith, her trust and her hope. Her initial plan had backfired. The problem with love was that when a woman like her fell in love, she was the most passionate and devoted person in the world; but when she felt betrayed and cheated, she became the most vengeful person. She wanted to see him suffer as she once did, and she wanted to make him to pay for his lies and deceptions.
Never once in her life that she wanted anyone to feel her pain as much as she did with him. She told him that she fucked others. She did not want to be his any longer. She still loved him. Part of her remained that innocent, fragile, and faithful person; yet part of her became this woman who threw herself into other men's open arms without much thought about him.
She would have stayed loyal and loving, she nearly did that for a year, but love and betrayal, passion and vengeance often came hand in hand.
Never ever be stung by a scorpion. They used to say.
She was one. She had a scorpion tattooed on her back when she had decided to rid of him, to demote him from a boyfriend to someone who may or may not be a friend.
She spent hours crying, talking to her therapist, until her therapist told her to shut up and stop seeing this man, B. So she stopped seeing her therapist.
If it was love, then perhaps B failed to recognize it, or knew how to handle it. B would not know what it was like to have loved and lost. She was convinced that B was heartless and self-serving. B had never cared about her, not when she was dead sick, nor when she was in need of emotional support.
With that she attempted to move on. But on occasion, she found the rare courage to fess up to B. "I miss you." She'd end all her emails like that for a while. As if it was a code word for "I love you". Except she dared not to write such words. She was afraid of what it would mean to B and how it would affect her.
She imagined one day he'd finally disappear for good.
And there would not be anything for her to do but cry for a long time. She'd dream of him. She'd wish that one day she'd see him again. She would want to stay in touch. She would want to know why he stopped loving her.
Then that feeling would stop. She'd forget about him just like she did for the first time fifteen years ago. She would stop loving him. She would forget about this turbulent, passionate, love-like relationship.
This time, it would be for good.
Desert Storm
I have always wondered, suppose I have loved and been loved, and you and I are separated by vast space and infinite time, the only sign of your existence is my fleeting thoughts and fading memory, and every shred of evidence, is gone, by your careful design - the not-so-accidental removal of notes, cards, photos, videos and that have served as reminders of you, me, and you and me, the sworn secrecy of the state of our being, the disappearing act that you have perfected over decades of sound practice. You are a creature of habit, and you are the king of your castle with many dark tunnels and escape hatches.
The day will come when the mirage will vaporize and you shall disappear with it permanently, and all I have left is the vast emptiness of dust, and the warning horn screaming through the desert air, urging the arrival of another sandstorm.
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