THE WOMAN WHO TRANSFORMED MY PERSPECTIVE
So there’s me, Luyanda Mbatha. I’m just a guy who like chaos, uncertainty, discomfort, and change. But when I encountered these things in the last couple of months and they came to me like a fucking united pack of wolfs in Alaska, I felt helpless. And dumb. But I persisted and embraced what I believed in.
Although it sucked me up, but I liked it because it taught me what I didn’t know and afraid of. It taught me not only to have zero-expectations, but to expect any fucking thing that can happen in the real world with real people.
I met this woman at university a couple of months ago, you know. She was sheen and concupiscible, I can’t lie. She seemed wonderful and bedworthy. She was taller than me (but slightly taller). She has a caramellike skin color and seductive youthful long thighs. Damn! This woman resembled those women I dreamed about when I’m asleep.
What I liked about her is that she had a great sense of humor. She made me laugh more than any fucking woman I happened to have an intimate relationship with. She said things that made me laugh uncontrollably (maybe it’s because I was lonely or hadn’t laugh enough for a long time during those days).
What made me sad is that she didn’t even know that what she said was hilarious and she had no intent on saying funny things that made Luyanda laugh like a psychopath. That made her even more bangable than before.
I pushed harder than before. I put more effort than before. I dedicated more of my time than before. I became a little bit more agreeable and less skeptical than before. As Mark Twain, the writer, said, “Love heightens all the senses — except the common.” He was right. The guy was fucking correct because that is where I lost common sense. Or, that is where we both lost common sense and went crazy as a shithouse rat.
We had great moments together. We both constructed the so-called “unforgettable memories” together. I know that. She knows that. We both know that. What slowly pushed me away from her a little bit more like a parked yet slipping vehicle on a steep surface covered with mud is that I trusted her. Not that I was overestimating my fucking trust. No, it’s not like that. It’s simply that I trusted her. She didn’t even trust me. I didn’t fail to convince her to trust me because I didn’t try as I already knew the outcome; she wouldn’t trust me (so why bother myself at all?!). No matter how fucking hard I try. Still, I was excessively untrustworthy to her.
The sex was good. No, I’m lying. It was fucking great! I know because both of us enjoyed it like it was our last days on earth. So we made sure that we do our fucking best as much as possible to satisfy each other. Holy shit! I almost disremembered to tell you why she didn’t trust me anymore. It’s not that I appeared to be the guy who has many women in his life than others. Nah, it’s not like that. The issue was that she developed trust issues since childhood because her father was cheating on her mother and he didn’t treat her in an acceptable manner, you know, like most drunkards fathers. Therefore, she extremy hated her.
I asked her about her background a bit, but she didn’t tell me a bit about it, she just wrote an essay on the inbox explaining to me about her family issues and why she is not comfortable around them, particularly her father. That’s when I began to leaned against the chair and inhaled the precious oxygen as usual by stop trying to convince her to trust me. So I got more time to relax and let the shit rise with the tides to gently obey the laws of nature.
What still confuse us is that both of us have no fucking clue what to do next. We had that strange and harmful silent treatments that led to our fucking lips being sealed permanently. Both of us were lost. The great philosopher named Yogi Berra wrote, “We’re lost, but we’re making a good time.” I believed we didn’t make good times, but we made great ones to one another.
I recall when I was creating a folder on my smartphone device to store her photos, I saved the folder by ‘Caramelia' because of her skin color that looked like a caramel. In that case, I can confidently say that Caramelia and I during hard times were completely lost and full of empty pride for our big shitty egos.
Caramelia and I During Difficult Times:
- 1. We were both childish (we didn’t act like adults)
2. We had big shitty egos (no one wanted to come down and state the course of a problem for it to be thoroughly resolved)
3. We were both narcissistic (we expected one another to do what we couldn’t do)
4. We pretended as if everything is alright.
5. I was good at being silent. She was also good at it as well. But it totally destroyed our bonds.
6. She wanted to be loved and taken care of but she couldn’t love first in an unconditional manner.
7. She pushed me away. I resisted ( by checking up on her even if she didn’t). The more she pushed me away. The less I resisted until...yep, until things got really fucked up (that’s why you read this).
8. I think she is still playing mind games whatsoever. I don’t do that bullshit either.
9. She was comfortable with herself and space. I was comfortable with mine too.
10. She wanted to be loved but still wanted to be alone for the rest of her fucking life because she believed that men are the same as her fucking father (who abandoned and ignored her needs since her childhood). I wanted an honest relationship with genuine openness.
11. She was quiet. I was quiet too. But I enjoyed honest confrontation because I liked discomfort, change, and chaos.
12. She put a blame on others for her unhappiness. I took full accountability of my own unhappiness.
13. I was 100% responsible to move on. I don’t know about her.
14. She needed a real love but couldn’t love genuinely because she didn’t have strong solid trust.
15. Her past relationships were the same. Mine were not. Or mayhap she behaved the same way into them.
16. She needed an honest and deep love; powerful mutual trust; strong emotional connection; and effective communication and enough time.
17. She needed true company because she was fucking lonely. I already had a true company on my side.
18. She needed real LOVE (that’s her first unfulfilled need that wounded her since childhood). My unfulfilled need since childhood is honest and openness.
That’s all. I don’t blame her. In fact, I don’t blame anyone. It is her own beliefs. And what I have realized is that our own fucking values were too distinct. But she was a good person though, I miss those silly jokes of hers.
When the uncertainty that I believed in emerged, it blew my fucking mind apart. I had to quickly change my perspective about what I thought was real. I didn’t know that I denied some wakeful signs about our bond (including the good ones too). I was blindfolded but now I’m fucking little bit matured than ever. So fuck her too. Thanks to her for distrusting me. Thanks to my goddamn Caramelia! I’m proud of her, especially to the new version of me.
