Memoirs of a player
“Face it; you just don’t have it in you.” April said it mockingly about 8 months back. Damn, I just hate it when people read me like an open book. It’s way too vulnerable for my liking.
I had just broken up with my girlfriend, and I was beginning to have an epiphany. I thought to myself, “If that is who she thinks I am, then that is exactly who I shall be!” Its funny how when we allow emotions to get the best of us and try to do/say things just to spite them; I was 6 years old all over again.
It wasn’t a pretty sight, my SMSes would be vetted one after another, my phonebook would be scrolled thoroughly from A to Z, and my schedule be questioned over and over again.
Flirt. Player. Cheater. Was it her, being overly paranoid? Or was it I, being overly friendly? I never knew what was it that I did or didn’t do, but somehow she was never secure about us… She always accused me of cheating on her, funny, cos I gave her all my free time (which was what she wanted) and undivided attention.
Her mum would encourage her as well, behind my back, the shrewd woman that she was, saw that it was her means to drive a wedge between us. What did I ever do to you? I merely loved your daughter, and loved her with all my heart I did. I would have loved you like a mother as well.
Enough. A relationship without trust is merely a false pretence. I have had enough of being accused. The relationship soured, the feelings wilted, and my wall erected. Breaking point.
April mocked me again. “Yeah, you may look the part if you dress up and groom yourself a little, but it is not in you. You lack the natural instinct that a player needs. You reek of nice. You are too principled. You are old-fashioned. You should just be you. Someone will see through all of the layers and know that you aren’t the unfaithful kind.”
Darn it, I am tired of being nice. Everyone who has met me for the first time never fails to say that I am nice. Nice, that is all that was said about me. No!!! “Nice” is what you would say about the bespectacled boy who is never noticed by anyone.
I retorted, “You’ll see. I’ll show the player that I am.” April barely managed to not laugh at me yet again, sensing the pain, anger, and anguish in my eyes. “Ok, prove me otherwise.”
Fast forward to present day, I am still the man I was before, far from being the player that I vowed to be. Damn it, April was right yet again, and I knew I didn’t have it in me to prove her otherwise.
I hate being an open book…
I had just broken up with my girlfriend, and I was beginning to have an epiphany. I thought to myself, “If that is who she thinks I am, then that is exactly who I shall be!” Its funny how when we allow emotions to get the best of us and try to do/say things just to spite them; I was 6 years old all over again.
It wasn’t a pretty sight, my SMSes would be vetted one after another, my phonebook would be scrolled thoroughly from A to Z, and my schedule be questioned over and over again.
Flirt. Player. Cheater. Was it her, being overly paranoid? Or was it I, being overly friendly? I never knew what was it that I did or didn’t do, but somehow she was never secure about us… She always accused me of cheating on her, funny, cos I gave her all my free time (which was what she wanted) and undivided attention.
Her mum would encourage her as well, behind my back, the shrewd woman that she was, saw that it was her means to drive a wedge between us. What did I ever do to you? I merely loved your daughter, and loved her with all my heart I did. I would have loved you like a mother as well.
Enough. A relationship without trust is merely a false pretence. I have had enough of being accused. The relationship soured, the feelings wilted, and my wall erected. Breaking point.
April mocked me again. “Yeah, you may look the part if you dress up and groom yourself a little, but it is not in you. You lack the natural instinct that a player needs. You reek of nice. You are too principled. You are old-fashioned. You should just be you. Someone will see through all of the layers and know that you aren’t the unfaithful kind.”
Darn it, I am tired of being nice. Everyone who has met me for the first time never fails to say that I am nice. Nice, that is all that was said about me. No!!! “Nice” is what you would say about the bespectacled boy who is never noticed by anyone.
I retorted, “You’ll see. I’ll show the player that I am.” April barely managed to not laugh at me yet again, sensing the pain, anger, and anguish in my eyes. “Ok, prove me otherwise.”
Fast forward to present day, I am still the man I was before, far from being the player that I vowed to be. Damn it, April was right yet again, and I knew I didn’t have it in me to prove her otherwise.
I hate being an open book…
posted by homme_dec at 7:53 PM
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