That girl

It was like a scene from a movie, you know those black dramas with more issues than Julius Malema. We sat at the dinner table (yes, young black people buy furniture as well) drinking wine and talking nonsensical nonsense as usual. We were having this conversation because I’ve been a douche again, something which is starting to happen way too often.

But this time it was different, this time the nonsense made sense. I will always remain steadfast in my belief that when Taylor Swift songs start meaning something in your life then you are screwed. I am screwed, and that’s not a lyric from a Taylor Swift song, it’s an admission of how much trouble I am in. So where was I? Oh yes, the dinner table. So we are sitting there having dinner and constructing meaningful conversation when my good friend Crazy Chrissie has her eureka moment. “I would like to know what this b**** has, how she can just have this hold over you. That no matter what the other girls do, she still has your heart. I’d like to know how this happens”, she said something along those lines. Most of it has to be filtered because she can be a potty mouth when she gets excited.

But she has a perfectly relevant question, who is she? Every guy has one, that girl for whatever reason has you so bad that you can’t even put on a straight face to deny it. It’s usually the first unconditional love, usually people grow together and as that happens a strong bond develops, it grows to a point where both of you can tell what the other person wants to say before they utter a single word.  She is that girl to whom more is given then what is taken, and the one girl who knows who you really are. The one girl that you allowed to look deep enough into your soul to see what lurks beneath, she knows all the good inside you. She has firsthand experience with the bad and ugly that lurks inside you as well, so she basically knows you like she knows her ATM card pin number. A girl that lulled you in so deep it felt as though a small part of you left when things went sour, and as long as she has that part of you or holds that place in your heart then you are screwed. The rest just know who you have become or now pretend to be. The other girls that follow in her stead can give you the world multiplied by three, but they would still come in second. We can simply refer to her as “that girl”; usually the departure of “that girl” sparks random reckless behaviour in men. You know that point in a man’s life when her realises that he can have women turning tricks for him like circus animals, you start seeing girls in a different light, it starts to become more of a game than real life interactions even the most responsible guy, starts to show signs of gross irresponsibility . It’s usually at this point that reputation and standards spiral out of control, once the spiral starts life can go downhill very fast.

Some guys are lucky, they get second chances. They crawl back to “that girl” and she finds it in her somewhere to take them back. Not all of us have that luck and that is where the fuckery really starts. You never want to disturb someone’s life especially when they look happy and content with someone else, constantly telling you about it to rub it in your face (why life doesn’t come with a manual, I will never fully understand). The only thing that burns you more than the fact that she is happy is the fact that you are not a part of it. It’s left to a choice between selfishness and humility. Chase her down and fight for her even when the other guy has a bigger sword or just let her go. The problem is that until you find closure, you can let her go hypothetically but deep down still watch her from a distance like a stalker wondering what could have been. Whilst breaking hearts left right and centre, such is the fuckery of life.