… the latest dictionary and today’s who’s who.

 They say, ‘you can’t win the lottery unless you buy a ticket’ so I found myself against my better judgement agreeing to meet up with a friend’s friend who was in town on business for drinks at a certain bar in the Melrose. Pleasant conversation turned to dinner upstairs where we mostly chatted about people we both had in common and I think he was hoping that the dim-sum he ordered would turn into then-some later on back at his hotel conveniently situated across the square. It had been ages since I’d had this much fun without a carton of ice-cream, some form of liqueur and my DSTV remote. But as Nelly once sang, all good things must come to an end. And they did.


While the idea of expiration dating usually appeals to me, tonight there was an emptiness that pervaded the darkness as I sat on my former ridge overlooking the city. With the air crisp and the full moon high overhead the Shakespearian undercurrent was electric and I felt the magic that comes with nights like these. Haunted by an inability to let go when I know I should, it’s more than a feeling you feel driving past a stranger, a lingering smile on his face as I leave in the morning, or the most haunting of all: letting someone go who is no longer there. Whether it was their decision or mine sometimes it sometimes just feels unfinished. Like there’s something more to come. But isn’t.


As I sipped my coffee, thoughts swirling about me, I got to thinking about relationships and partial-lobotomies. Two seemingly different ideas that might just be perfect together like chocolate and peanut butter. Think how much easier it would all be if there was some swift surgical procedure to whisk away all the ugly memories and mistakes and leave only the fun trips and special moments. But until that day arrives what to do? Rely on the same old needle point philosophy of ‘forgive and forget’? And even if two people can manage the forgiveness, has any ever conquered the forgetness? When it comes to past relationships I had to ask myself if you can really ever forgive if you can’t forget?


Sexual souvenirs like a sweat-shirt or book or even snap shots can remind us of the past long after the memory does but with him no longer in your life the meaning once placed on it is gone. But what makes us forget certain people quicker than others? It took me 2yrs to let go of the Squirrel despite a sprinkling of relationships in between while he had managed to move on relatively quickly to someone else. Am I kidding myself to think that he didn’t have any residual wants or is that ego? Now I can look at him, in the flesh or online, and feel nothing like the way I used to. So maybe time is what we need to get over someone or something? And learn to live with a lessening pain as we live the lesson learned.


But in compiling anecdotal evidence of almost a decade past for a reacquainted soul mate, a single line describing each person, place and permanent scar reminds you that the heart heals over time, and that sometimes things don’t work out for a reason. After all, if you spent your whole life with someone you didn’t love, or didn’t love you, you’d never get to meet that handsome line engineer with amber coloured eyes who works for the national carrier on his way to Cape Town for training. As he says to you just after beverage service ‘I don’t mean to be forward – but you’re fucking cute!’ you know then and there its going to be a fun night even if your return ticket at the end of the weekend is the expiry date of this love affair.


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