Part Four: She was a smart girl, until she fell in love



Confesh-sesh #7: Happy endings only exist in Japanese massage parlours

“Meeting him was fate, becoming his friend was a choice but falling in love with him was beyond my control.”

Control? If you really look at it, how much control do we have? Everything we do, every step we take is a conscious choice right? It’s our choice to do something, it’s our choice to go somewhere, we have the power in our hands to influence our outcomes. Then why does it all seem orchestrated? Yes, we’ve made these choices but how is it that they seem to lead us right where we’re supposed to be when we’re supposed to be there? If we look at it this way, do we really have as much control as we think?

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Mr A and I were inseparable. After that night, we spent all of our time together and when we weren’t together, we’d be on the phone with each other. Our friends nicknamed us ‘conjoined’, it was THAT bad. Everything began to feel different to me, things I hadn’t noticed before, the world suddenly became beautiful. The sun seemed brighter than usual, it was like I had been sleepwalking my entire life and I was suddenly awake…

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I stayed at my aunt’s house for the second half of my rotation, this was convenient because he lived about 10 minutes away. I remember telling her all the time that ‘my friend’ was coming to study with me. We actually did put on a really good façade of him helping me to study. We were quite impressive. Or so I thought, our sessions would end up with him talking and me staring at him daydreaming. There were also times that I’d sneak out when she went to bed and go for drives with him, it was all so exhilarating and so new to me.

I usually can’t stand a boyfriend in my space 24/7. I’ve always loved my alone time and I felt that boyfriends were things for the weekend only. I was perfectly contented with once a week if so much, until Mr A waltzed into my life. I wanted to be around him and with him all the time. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to share every detail of my life with him. What the fuck? Who’s this needy hoe?

Mr A was no different from me though, when he wants something you definitely know, and he did everything in his power to make sure we were always together. I still wasn’t driving so it was basically all in his hands. He never complained. Probably because he’s one of the few people who enjoyed driving and he also had some weird love thing for his car…

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I was never a party girl pre-Mr A, of course I had been to parties now and then but if you could have seen how Mr A and his friends partied, you’d understand what I mean. Without any hesitation, I willingly left my quiet, uncomplicated world behind and stepped into his.

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The transition into his world was subtle at first. I pretended so hard that I was a cool kid and that I could keep up with him. If I could talk to younger me right now I’d say, ABORT MISSION BITCH!

Most of our plans were spontaneous and never pre-planned. Boys will never understand how much planning and time coordination goes into selecting an outfit for a night out. If I need to be ready at 10, I need to start getting ready at 7. I need enough time to shave my hairy ass legs, straighten my rass, paint my face with a pound of makeup and take power naps in between as well as karaoke to every single song on YouTube. Is it really that hard to understand?

As usual, his indecisive ass decided that we were going to meet his friends at a party. He decides this while sitting in my kitchen, neither of us being ready AND he’s giving me a time frame to work with.

BRUH!

I started to protest, but before I could open my mouth he shot me a look and I knew immediately, go get dressed girl.

I did the best to get ready within my time constraints. I walked downstairs feeling myself and thinking to myself, I could do this in half the time I’m used to. He glared at me when I entered the kitchen. I had never seen this expression on his face before.
“What’s wrong?” was all I managed to croak.

He answered with ice in his voice, I froze (see what I did there), “Could you have taken any longer? You know we’re late and we still have to go home to my house so I can get ready.” He had never spoken to me this way before nor did he ever look at me like that. It made me shiver. I decided to ignore it and was apologetic.

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We drove to his house, this was the first time I’d been there. He had already met pretty much my entire family. I was yet to meet his. I was already shaken by our previous interaction and the nerves from possibly meeting his parents were consuming me. He had calmed down by this point, and that loving, soft demeanor returned. He held my hand sending those sparks shooting up my hand, fuck was that ever going to stop? He tried to reassure me that everything would be fine and I was worrying for no apparent reason. He looked into my eyes and kissed my forehead. I felt hypnotized. He could have said anything and I would have just nodded my head. Like the puppet on a string that I became, I followed him out of the car.

*    *    *    *

There was no one awake besides his sister who was going with us to the party. I breathed a sigh of relief. He scooped me into his arms and kissed me. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around him. This boy will be the death of me. I insisted that I would wait in his kitchen for him since going into boys’ rooms always made me feel like I was breaking some unspoken rule. Naughty naughty. He was not having that, however, and made me go into his room…

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I sat nervously on his bed, peering around the dimly lit room. I just sat in one spot feeling the most awkward and uncomfortable feeling. I twiddled my fingers, played on my phone, thought about how my parents would have murdered me if they knew I was in his room, I grinned at the thought of this. After all these years, I’m finally a badass. My thoughts were interrupted prematurely by someone shouting. I jumped, my train of thought immediately breaking.

It was his mom…

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I instinctively stood up and said ‘Hi’, then I thought, “OMFG! She doesn’t know me, I’m a stranger and in her son’s room to boot! She already hates me.” I hoped she did not see my uncool moment and I just RAN away from the door and hid. This is SO embarrassing thinking back at it. I never wanted that the first time that I met his mom I’d be sitting alone, IN HIS ROOM! I could only imagine the things she thought. I also knew my parents did not raise me like that. I didn’t even want to be in his room in the first place! Not yet anyway if ya know what I mean.

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He finally got out of the shower (he takes FOREVER) and I told him what happened. He already knew the rank loser I was, and just laughed at me while trying and FAILING to reassure me. Apparently, calculating and going over every possible worst case scenario was humorous to him. I gave up.

“I could never show my face here again.”

Yeah right.

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We pulled up at the party, holding hands while walking in. I felt like ten million dollars. I was undoubtedly head over heels for him. This is just a fling, this is just a fling. Get these thoughts out of your head, I kept reminding myself over and over. My friends were at this party and I needed a moment or two to regroup and gather my thoughts.

I asked my friends their thoughts on the situation. Everyone’s response was RED LIGHT! STOP! DO NOT PASS GO! DO NOT COLLECT $200! They all warned me about him. They must be biased. This is not my Mr A they were describing.

“He’s good for a fling and nothing more” was the general consensus. I felt a sharp pain in my chest when I heard this. Acid reflux I’m sure.

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His friends decided that they wanted to leave the party to get pies on Marli Street. Best. Pies. Ever. Let’s take a minute to appreciate how this was another way this boy changed my life. Had it not been for him, my love affair with those pies would not have existed. You guys know by now, he had me at pie. We sat in the car. There was a long period of silence. Strange. We always spoke like two chatterboxes. What my friends had said to me was on mind. What could possibly be on his mind?

He turned to me, looking me dead in the eye, “I really like you…” My cheeks blazed, I felt the heat escape my body when he said this, but panic soon set in. Why does this sound like there was a ‘but’ about to come in here?

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“Will you be my girlfriend?”

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I did not think twice. My immediate response to him was “YES!” Let’s just for one minute recall that I was NOT looking for a relationship and I was NOT ready to fall in love. I was very happy with just a fling. In fact, that was the intention until all these weird things started happening to my body. I did not have to think twice about his question. I immediately knew and I use his words here, “everything quite magically fell into place”.

Bullshit, if ya ask me.

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Why is it that in moments like this we have adrenaline flowing through our body? The quickening of the heart rate, dilation of the pupils, deeper, quicker breaths, shaking. That’s a fight or flight response, it’s your body perceiving a harmful attack or threat to survival. That’s your body’s natural way of saying, bitch get the fuck outta there. 

Girls, if this happens, don’t ignore it. FLIGHT. FLEE. RUN. HOP. GET OUT!

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I was the happiest girl in the world. However, this was short lived. I told a few more of my friends about us and they all expressed their disapproval, my cousins warned me about him, his cousin warned me about him. Pretty much anyone with a brain, warned me about him. “He’s bad news, girl.”

Did I listen? Yes. Did it change anything? Yes.

I broke up with him less than 24 hours later.

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He made it his business to let me know that he wasn’t the way everyone said he was. He’s changed, he’s no longer young, he knows what he wants. Regular ‘chain-up’ talk. Guess who fell for it…