My boys of miscarriage

I lied to myself so many times, when I was single, and said I am NOT looking. Love will find me, I would say. But deep down in me, I knew I was looking for the one person with whom I can talk about things that other people hardly understand nor find interesting.

I went out with friends at night and on weekends; drank, laughed and ate all the fattening food. I socialised and met new friends some of whom felt like I was too much of a pink diamond to be single. So, I was hooked up -unwillingly- many times with other single sheeps. Though disappointing in so many levels at times, the experience was fun and very insightful.  

I met men – and boys - I felt were the right ones. With some, I slept, I had sex and I loved. Many of whom proved to fall for me for the many get-togethers I am loved for. Clearly, boy eyed guaranteed entrance tickets – to a house I do NOT even own - whenever yours truly felt Oprah-ish and fed the ‘nation’; making it rain while he would come in with arms folded. I am guessing his wallet had one big hole through which his cents escaped on his way to mine.

The last one though, boy I mean, was a figure my friends felt was the most ludicrous relation I have ever pursued. He liked me and I liked him back. He had deep issues and I had to have tissues always. Of course, I had problems too.

Nonetheless, he was not a hard tiff to swallow. Or so I thought. He left me bending picking up my jaw when he had no shame sharing with me that his ex did not only have horse of a pipe, but he –my boy- was the only one whom the ex told could take it all in...

Yes, I was single and in like, but I was not foolish that I would dip my being in a hole that had taken in objects dubbed to be larger and bigger than my arm. Besides, I had an ego to grow NOT to bruise it. Imagine, me humping and pumping a ride with someone who’d probably be focusing on how slow my beard is growing.

Oh, what a loss though. But he left me with a lesson; never take too lightly petite boys, particularly those who compliment me every chance they get.

All the same, the one before him was another tale to be reckoned. A song I would have chosen Amy Winehouse to sing. I and he were what many considered a match-made in heaven. However, we both knew we were nothing like that. Instead, we were simply lusting for each other.

I told him many times how much I wanted him. I don’t care what everyone thinks of you, I want you, I would say. He would touch me and get playful with me in public and he let me kiss him whenever I wanted to.

Yet, it appeared he had not only been touchy and playful with me. Right across my house, my coloured neighbour knew him. In fact, my neighbour and his friends knew him very well. He had photos to prove it. I saw the photos, he was right; they knew him seeing that we all had seen him.

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!