Me & Mr Jones: I remember

I remember having drinks with two friends; a very attractive guy and an elegant lady. To me this was a foreign land. A home and where school is for her, while this is where he use to study. Now, he only comes to visit his peers from church.
 
I was very familiar, and friendly with the double shots of Southern Comfort and lime I had in my hand. He was having the same while she went for something she felt was less 'hard', a Savanna.
 
With a cigarette at hand, she was blurting away. One would swear I have known her for ages, but I had just met her a few minutes ago. Thanks to Twitter, she asked to meet with me because she had heard of my PR proficiency. I'm not that good in the field, but I fitted her criteria of a young, vibrant, smart gay man.
 
We were chatting. She was enjoying us. He was entertaining. My Blackberry Messenger (BBM) was demanding my eye; Mr Jones was dining right across where we were. I wanted to see him. Gosh, I have been looking forward to this day.
 
I knew he was dark, but unsure of how tall he was. His Facebook photos depicted a tall skinny boy. Contrary to what he believed, he was good looking. He is near News Cafe, his text showed. I excused myself and up I went, carried away by self-reliance that would have fed a lot of starving children in Rwanda.
 
There he was. Cute, I muttered. He wasn't tall. He was not tall at all. He was still dark and very lovely though.
 
Hand shakes, wry smiles, hotness oozed between the two of us. Within a few seconds I had made him relax. Or had he made me relax? We were both not nervous; clearly we were two adults who were very much used to meeting strangers.
 
I walked him back to his res. At least I had established that he's not so busy, hence I had planned to have him hang with me, him and her. This was his territory, but I could tell that Mr Jones was did not go out much. Well, his time had come.
 
I went back strutting in excitement. I informed the crew that we will have a 'guest' among us. They got even more excited when they learn that I wanted to pursue Mr Jones.
 
I remember we moved from point A to B because freshmen are not allowed anywhere else except point B.
 
I remember the number grew from three; two men and a lady, to three men and a lady. The big man was in the midst. Rounds flew, allowing intoxication in the mind. By now everyone wanted to see Mr Jones. Right then, my BBM was buzzing. I'm here, where are you guys, his text showed.
 
He's here, I told the crew. I went to meet him halfway. He came to join us. Everyone loved him. Everyone loved him alright.
 
One drink too many. Stones was getting even more packed, but we had reserved our space so that we had enough to dance on. Or should I say that space was for me and me alone? I mean, I was the only one dancing.
 
I believe it was during my dancing that Mr Jones managed to forge, between himself and my male friend, what I had expected to develop between him and I.
 
I remember the big guy pulling me aside to ask me if I could see what was going on between the two. It was clear, but my mind was to slow to capture such disturbing moments. My friend entertaining my lovely Mr Jones, no harm in that, I thought.
 
I remember seeing their lips lock. I giggled, not because it was funny but, because it was strange just how roles have changed in one day, over few hours, between two good friends; all for a stranger. My then potential lover.
 
I remember the big guy and I waiting on Mr Jones and he to finish smooching. How lovely. No! How weird? Actually, ouch. Very ouch.
 
I remember confronting him inside a cab we took as we were heading home; to his place. "I can't believe you," I said, with a mouth that surely reeked of liquor. "Can we not talk about this now Dladla," he suggested. When was the right time? After they have established a solid foundation for their love for each other?
 
I remember, not hugging my friend when I left for work the next day. I remember nursing a weird pain in my belly every time their BBM statuses suggested they were together or going for a night out together. I remember forcing myself to accept that I had lost and my friend had won. I remember texting both of them wishing all the best.
 
To be honest, they made each other happy. I do believe they loved each other.
 
Despite what I thought in the beginning, me and Mr Jones could have never worked out. The fact that I was a R96 away while my friend was merely R20 confirmed this. Besides, Mr Jones was a student, something I had recently decided to stay away from. I, on the other hand, was very clingy; something that would have annoyed him to the point of ditching me.
 
I believe this is the realisation that brought me to man up and be 'happy' for Mr Jones and my friend. As a result, I had just the perfect idea. The plan was to invite both of them over at my place for a day or two. We would chill, eat and have fun just like old times.
 
The main idea here was to restore my friendship with my friend while setting things with Mr Jones to however they were before I found him appealing. Also, Mr Jones had never been to my house. He had always heard of the parties and braai that I usually host. Now, the time for him to come had arrived.
 
"When do you want to host us? Mr Jones and I have broken up," text from him showed. I gasped alone in a taxi home.
 
I remember feeling anger intensifying inside me. I almost lost a friendship with him. For what? A fling? Couldn't they have worked harder on whatever the problem was? After all the shit their relationship put me through, they failed to nurture what they have started? Actually, I was hurt. For what? Just for a spare of the moment kind of thing?
 
It's like they were both spiting me, with him saying let me get the taste of what my friend was after while Mr Jones pursued his inquisitiveness in regards to how it feels to be with the friend of the guy who wanted him.
 
I feel their relationship cost me. Now they threw all that away. Just when I was beginning to get my head around the idea of them dating.
 
Happy read!

Disfigured, yet fall in love

I love walking. I love walking to the Spar down the street from my house when I've ran out of bacon, to Campus square when I want to do my groceries or to 7th when I feel like a night or a day out.
 
Sometimes, I try and convince my house mate - who drives - to walk with me when we go for grocery shopping. "I didn't buy this car so that I could leave here and walk," he would reply with his British twang.
 
A few times we have walked; me and him, or me with whoever is my visitor on a certain day and whether or not the visitor owns a car.
 
During my walks, I get to notice and value the structure and magnificence of the area in which I stay. I get to admire the trees; the wind blowing in between the twigs giving freedom to leaves that find their way to my dreadlocks. As green or emaciated those leaves are, I smell them.
 
I appreciate nature and on top of that I value and admire the unknown women and men I see on the streets. How well built they are, sexy and how smartly dressed - or not – they are.
 
As I go the opposite direction, I wonder if the person passing me is the person whom I'm meant to date or marry; my Mr Right sort of thing. I wonder if the stranger I just passed will ever come into my life. If he does, will he form part of the list of people whom I value or merely add to that which is filled by the men who have caused me nothing but hurt?
 
Why does it matter though, I ask myself. I mean what we expect, rather I expect, from the people I know sometimes come from strangers. The disappointment that I would expect from strangers, or lack of care thereof, has become something I get habitually from the people I know. At times, those we know hurt us so bad that our trust gets bruised and damaged. Particularly when it comes to relationships.
 
This is very true. I know so because I have experienced it; thanks to one of my Mr Rights who turned out to be not-so right for me. I spoke to him a few days back, and throughout our conversation, he showed me an attitude that shocked me a bit. I loved this guy. He loved me too, I felt it. I knew him so well. We were crazy about each other. Of course, this was up until he cheated on me with a guy he met in my room.
 
His work in breaking my heart went further when, after the guy he cheated on me with, he went for one of my closest whom I once dated. This is something that left me broken and damaged, and I have been living with this thing inside since it happened three years ago.
 
I hated him most of the time. I wished all the bad things upon him.
 
All that has now vanished, because I have forgiven him. Unfortunately, I cannot just forget. I think that is why I gathered the courage to speak to and interrogate him in regards to what he did to me.
 
"I'm so shocked you still thinking about this. We were young Dladla," he responded. Is he serious? Did he expect me to just forget about the fact that he lied to me and pretended as if he loved me? We were young? Young and yet able to do things only old people are meant to do? Young but introduced me to his aunts and his grandmother? Young but had the ability to deceive me? He cheated and yet he blames that on being young? He must have swapped his brains for bigger balls.
 
I became angry all over again. It was all good, I guess, that we were communicating via BBM. Otherwise, had he been in front of me, things would have turned ugly. This is the first guy whom I fell in love with. It was with him that I learnt what really takes place when two gay men are naked underneath blankets. Now, he expected me to just forget about it and the fact that he hurt me just like that? This boy is crazy.
 
Yes, his response to my questions disturbed me a bit. He did come across like he was making a mockery of the fact that I once loved him and believed he loved me. It was as if he was laughing at me for walking around with this thing inside me.
 
This is someone I knew. This is boy was once a stranger whom I probably walked passed on the streets thinking "Mh, nice..." But now, I knew him and he knew me and he treated me as if I am some stranger who does not deserve his apology or genuine compassion. On the face of it, he found me stupid and very childish.
 

Despite his view of the whole matter, this boy hurt me. He broke my heart and left me with a scar that dented my trust a bit. Yet, I still fall in love.

With that having happened; my relationship with him, his with the boy he cheated on me with and with an ex of mine whom I had become very good friends prior their affair; I stand tall with a very positive attitude in regards to love and relationships. I still believe in love. I still believe that I will come across a guy who will do what I expected this guy to be.
 
Happy read!