They said, “with time it would go”.
They said, “time heals”.
They said, “the right time will come …when I’ll forget”.
They said, “the right time will come when I am filled with other good memories of others”.
Only haunting memories.
Memories that bites back at the most unsuspecting time.
Memories that gets me spiraling down Lewis Carroll’s rabbit hole …
My choice could not have gone more wrong that this.
As I revisit the piece of yellow legal pad paper with scribbles of “pros” and “cons” divided by a squiggly vertical line across the page, I can’t help but wonder how could I have gone wrong. The fit on paper seems perfect. A combustible combo that will be mutually beneficial. A win-win professional situation.
Well, of course silly me forgot about the “LOVE“ issue, or rather lack of it he was facing with his current girlfriend who was once an ex-girlfriend.
I’d rather not go into the endless rants … but let’s just say even the above statement is flawed.
Firstly, once it’s an ex- … leave it! Double ex- es just doesn’t sound right.
Secondly, if you’d wanted to deliver the bad news since end of last year but was finding the right time … errr… we’re almost at the end of this year by now.
There’s not a day or second that is better than the other, with the exception of pre-menstrual time for most women. I mean, babies are made in 9 months … so, either you do it NOW or this really isn’t ever going to happen. B..b..but he insist and maintains that the right time is important, and this has been supported by yet another guy friend of mine who deduces the wave-tide-sea-moon-stars alignment is critical as he is convinced that she’s psycho.
Well, I personally do not think she’s psycho – well, of the little I do know of her personally. Appearing meek and more than ever happy to oblige, she automatically drops out of the ‘Potential Penelope’s Friend’. Not that it’s any fault of hers; rather my unfair bias. Her only flaw to me was her possessiveness of him and her over dependency (ya know, the manja thing – ewwwwwwwwwwweeeekkkk) – as illustrated in a rather hilarious story of a trip we were once on together which I am not going to link here.
Anyways, being Penelope, I need to be a BITCH for 30 seconds, if I may; a need as strong as that of a vampire’s for blood.
See, I had thought of her to be in her late 30s; a much discounted estimation of her age, mind you, given the fact that he’s not very much older than me. She sure didn’t look my age – rather sallow to me – so, thank God I did not chock on the grilled artichoke vegetable salad when her real age was revealed.
He was of a different opinion of course. On both counts of “physical”.
In the matter of matter-type-physical: not an issue.
But the other ‘physical’ apparently is lacking in the relationship … whoa! over sharing and yes, I have a vivid and wild imagination … so, ewwwwwwwwwwweeeekkkk. Big time ewwwwwwwwwwweeeekkkk.
Split personality, hence psycho and an award winning actress, followed by “I hate and can’t travel with her.” We’ll leave this travel partner issue thing-y for now … but yeah, I so TOTALLY get that statement and for this I am blessed to have WT as a travel partner.
so the thing about LOVE is … I had lost time and both quantity and quality support partner time as its rather difficult to suggest, let alone insist on a fixed pattern.
so the thing about LOVE is … wrapped in his own problem he had not bothered to check the birthday gift I mailed over before skipping town … a parcel sitting somewhere now in a cold office lobby… containing a customised gift that took me lots of creative juice and 5 work nights to complete!
Now… here’s the more complex, heart breaking one.
Which isn’t really the case objectively, if only he was less in LOVE.
But can one be less or more in LOVE?
His declaration makes “love is grand” sounds cliche, but herein lies the sad, sad problem.
Dishing out every platitude you can associate with LOVE and that of being the third person, he know them all. He knows that deep down …
He knows he’ll be left standing there alone, perhaps more likely to be hurdled up in a fetal position, clutching at his chest and crying away.
But the thing is I would be right there holding him and cooing.
Mom would be right there catering to his every need and lending him her strength … the very thing a mother would do … although she had told him so many a times before.