I STARED up at the wooden ceiling - a feeling that was becoming all too familiar. The weight of modern day existential dread washed over me. This was it, isn't it? I just knew it was it because I was wasting data streaming sad songs on YouTube; I was falling into sadness.
Mya was my everything and after three years and some change and definitely over one million I love you's, she still didn't understand me. She still didn't realize that all I wanted was unbridled love, I wasn't jealous. Oh dear, no. I just don't think I should video call my girlfriend, of three years, and see someone else's head on her single pillow that rested atop her single bed.
She wasn't the type to try and get someone's attention after she failed to acquire it three times. So, now she was on WhatsApp playing the victim. Who the fuck cares about Pinterest quotes? Twitter screenshots from Facebook and Instagram? I did...
I cared a lot. I am a whole truck filled with feelings. I'm a prostitute of feelings.
She knew this. Yet still, she still plays with my feelings.
I am by no means an aggressive person but I couldn't help but feel that Mya really had me fucked up. While staring up at the ceiling, it only felt natural to say some corny shit to lighten my mood.
I'm looking up because you let me down Yep, that had to suffice.
In Mya's defence, she said they didn't have sex - said she was crying because of some family shit and offered her some comfort. You are my girlfriend, you're not supposed to be out here offering other women comfort! Especially not the good looking ones who obviously have a thing for you but you are so oblivious that you don't even realize. I loudly hissed my teeth and decided to turn off the sad music that I had been playing, I wasn't sad anymore. I was angry.
I've always fought for her and ran behind her but when it's her turn it's like I'm asking her to keep the world on her shoulders like Atlas. All I'm asking for is a little love and affection, is that too much to ask? A little reassurance every now and then. I bet she's gonna really want me when she no long her has me around to gas her on and make her feel wanted and bigger than she really is.
Fuck all this shit!! I was one second away from crying and as if on cue, Aunt Claudia walked into the room flicking the light switch on. She had a towel wrapped around her wet body suggesting she had just taken a shower and the words that left her mouth made me realize that she was my saving grace after all.
"I'm going liming, you coming?"
I wanted to shout, fuck yes! But I settled for a calmer approach. I cleared my throat, "sure."
I shot up out of the bed, grabbed my towel, and moved toward the bathroom. I mindlessly ttok care of myself trying to ignore that inner voice that was saying I told you so.
Some minutes later, I re-entered my room with a freshly washed head of curls and water droplets running down my back. I dried off and pulled on my boxers and the first sports bra I saw.
I didn't know where we were going so I didn't exactly know how to dress but that didn't stop me from always coming out and acting like everywhere I went was a runway. First impressions last and I always wanted to make an impression; I always liked being the centre of attention. Don't tell anyone I said so though because to everyone else, I was a shy and quiet person, and even though I was the furthest thing from it I wasn't going to make them any wiser.
I pulled on ripped black jeans and got started on my hair. I stood in front of the mirror and scooped some gel into my hands before rubbing them together and then running my fingers through my curls. Once I was satisfied with my curls I held my head low and shook my head to make the curls even more defined.
