Email in Reply 2: To Dude

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
And the discussion continues...

Submitted: November 09, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 09, 2012



Ok Dude,

I’ll reply to your first email properly seeing as ‘any communication’ with me makes your day… like I even believe that… but you typed it…

Thank-you for the dates that you planned and thought about so carefully. As I said then, they were wonderful. The sadness isn’t going to go away no matter what you or I do. I PROMISE you I have tried to forget/get over the… jerk… ok, it’s an earned title; I’ll keep it for you... I have tried therapy and the counsellor made me very mad. I’ve tried telling friends and family, they are sick of it now. I’ve tried prayer, meditation, ritual burning, singing, dancing, poetry, other dates, you name it, and I’ve tried it. I’ve even gone into the psychic numbers and they have told me that jerk and I are not compatible. His birthday facts say that he is not someone I should mix with. Every time I do something and get my mind around that the jerk is far away, happily living his life and completely non-desiring of my company, BAM something will happen that puts me right back where I freaking well started. I cannot even begin to tell you how frustrated, pissed off and irritated I am that the Universe, or my soul, or subconscious or whatever is going on is not helping me move on. My mind is pushing so hard against a universe and it has made me exhausted and is making my soul cry. So yes, every night my soul needs tissues, every night there is sadness and a feeling like my soul is missing its other half… for no logical, valid, intelligent reason whatsoever. I hate it. All I’d love to do is go out, and get completely smash-faced drunk, fall down some massive whatever and ride a chariot up to heaven. Pity God gave me the verse that says He needs me on earth more than He needs me in heaven. That just pissed me off even more. Seriously, I just want to get drunk, like that time at Uni, we were speaking at that time, and you came round after my shift when I’d made a whole R250 for my night’s work. I was over the moon and you took us out and ordered a flipping fishbowl of the white spirits for me and my waitressing mates. Then on the dance floor I was hardly paying attention I was on such a cloud… which led me to Jason’s other fishbowl, the porcelain telephone. Man that was wretched. Your folks had just given you your first car, and you drove me back to res in your little convertible. I was such a mess! Thank the Lord I didn’t throw up in your baby. I think you love cars more than anything else in the world. I would’ve been dead then and there! That drunk. I want to get that drunk again. Where I wake up with a headache beyond headaches and don’t have room in my head for any thoughts whatsoever. But no, instead I have to end up with acid reflux from hell and I can barely manage a glass of wine anymore, never mind the hard tack. I can’t indulge and get fat either, because gluten, wheat and sugar now send me to the porcelain telephone. I can’t dance either because of this blasted virus that has gotten into my blood. My physio reckons the glandular fever is back… remember I had it back in Johannesburg, when you were with… whoever… the point is, my soul is not letting me be content again. I’m not who I was. I don’t know where that awesome, bubbly, soul-content person has gone to, and I promise you I would love her back more than you could ever possibly imagine.

I did think about how it may have been if I had’ve stayed put in Durban and not gone on that blasted adventure. If things had’ve sorted themselves out, somehow… you are a fine catch, you know. Your parents’ summer place alone is incredible. Then there’s your well established business that brings in the money for you to drive that gorgeous car. Of course you are easy to look at too; all the girls see that from a mile away. When we went to your aunt and uncle’s stud farm in the Midlands and you fell asleep with your head on my lap while we were watching The A Team re-runs, and then that amazing breakfast was prepared for us the next morning…those horses were beautiful... so many reasons to for me to giggle and pretend that ‘I love you and want to have your babies’ (the idea of marriage and motherhood still makes me cringe by the way). I probably would’ve sorted out your favourite pass times though, why you are such an avid fan of strip clubs, no rules fighting, getting drunk and gambling, I have no idea. You have like, everything any human being could want! And then I’d have to toss some of your mates, like the guy who harassed me. I’ll never forgive you for walking away from that, his hands… I could’ve... Ok, maybe we wouldn’t have happened after all. I think I’m writing my mind in circles here. I guess, cut the times you don’t behave like a ‘man to ache for’, look at the package of great retirement and a girl being completely provided for, and wham, I’d be sorted. But it hasn’t worked out like that and I can’t just say, ok, I’ll be provided for; I’ll marry you for your money and status. That would be the biggest lie ever. You know how honest I am, even when I’m the not-me I am now, I haven’t lost the brutal honesty… I can’t marry for looks and money… and if you chase me, then you stop, then what, I’m stuck married to you because you made the catch and now you are bored?

Maybe the jerk had to get under my skin for a reason. Maybe he was supposed to show me that I don’t have to ‘settle’ like so many girls I know. Maybe he crossed my path to show me that it is possible to feel your soul connect with someone. Maybe it wasn’t only him who changed me, maybe I changed him too… nah, on second thought, probably not, you guys are all of the same mold. Who knows, I haven’t figured it out… but something inside says I will. In the meantime it is simply frustrating that I’ve been given even more reasons to be sad, from 3 deaths, to car accident, to ill health, to more people depending on me than I’ve ever had in my life! I’m so very stuck and the universe seriously feels like it’s trying to get me to stay put in my Rapunzel Tower! I look at the dreams and plans I have to carry on travelling, and for some reason I’ve not been able to get the funds together. I’ve always been able to save and go, now, I have no idea what’s stopping me from generating and moving on… you can’t help with this either, because you know full well I don’t do debt or loaning money from anyone. Jump ship and go overseas, get drunk, get fat… whatever, and I can’t do it… can you feel my tension? Can you vaguely comprehend how much more frustrating this is for me, than you? I can’t be like Bridget Jones and be all depressed, fat and drunk with cigarette in hand over the loss of a wealthy, upper class lawyer boyfriend… why does it always look so much easier in the movies…I guess it would help if I’d actually dated the jerk, maybe he would fit into the Hugh category in the end… ugh…

I know you are nothing like the jerk, you are a very different kettle of fish my friend, and I do love you, but not nearly enough to take you on permanently. I also want for my soul, and yours, what you want for mine, and I’m not going to stop my efforts to get back on track… I’ll find my joy again, somehow, I just have to get better again, somehow get rid of the fatigue and negativity and invisible chains holding me down. Somehow …

SECOND LETTER REPLY… sorry if you are tired reading, but it irritates me to have things all over the place… I meant no love letters! The guy on Booksie actually gave you a compliment and said you sound intelligent… ha ha I replied too clever for your own good ;) Did you go on the site yet? As mentioned above friends and family are sick of me and I don’t think they would be interested in a letter from you, no offence. Hmmm, I hear you, we are great intelligent company together, just not marriage company. I’d kill you within a month, when you are on one of your downers; you drain all my energy… I remember telling my Mom that back in 2001 when she told me that you were bad news, and then afterwards she told me we should hook up permanently… that woman is never one I have been able to understand, like, ever. Are you still going to that pub near the Woolworths? Those guys are all dodgy; you know that, I’ve been telling you for ages.

Yay! Glad you got the message that there ain’t no romance going on here Dude. No, you are not going to convince me otherwise, as I have recalled your nasty friend and your strip club haunting and gambling. Typical you trying to turn this around, and typical that in your last email you were like: ‘I always win’, like you are going to win me, get over that one. You are a master charmer, we both know that, and I hope deep down that our years of interacting have created some semblance of real love and not only ‘I’m a guy’ reactions. I hope anyway, chances… keep remembering the time I put you in your place, because I am more than capable of doing it again and you know that. Get the pictures out of you head sunshine, for your own good.

Ok. I’m taken aback. You remembered… you forget my birthday, you forget the names of my family, you forget to be at places on time, but you remember that… I think I could spend a lifetime trying to figure out how you work. I’m sorry you messed up too… but remember back in third year, when we went to that children’s park and sat on the swings and were chatting under the starlight? We decided that everything happens for a reason. That nothing is by chance and God has an awesome plan… I still believe that… I still remember that. I have to believe that, especially where I am at now. I can’t be stuck like this forever, God has to come through with His promises, He has to. You didn’t walk with me because something told you not to, whatever it was, it was, and we can’t change that now. Learn from it though, and the next time an angel looks like she needs a real man, be that man.

I love Rob, he’s a blast! And he continually tells me I’m sexy, no straight guys tell me that, and it works wonders for the complexion! No, ‘hot little body’ does not count, and I’ll have you know that women all over the world don’t like their cellulite and skin and lots of things, that I’m not about to type here. Why did you have to type that whole paragraph? I’m only helping my second cousin etc, I’m not trying to stand out or be beautiful; I don’t have ulterior motives for helping people. No one Dude, no one holds tissues for me, or helps me when I’m sick, or hugs me… so I have an alone life right now, but that doesn’t mean I have to jump the guy willing to hold tissues for me, or marry a man who is willing to hug me. That’s ridiculous. Being alone never hurt anyone beyond repair, in fact, I think a lot of women out there could actually do with getting to know themselves and who they are before they go running after men to make them feel needed, and whole, and ‘loved’. I reckon if more people learnt to love themselves by themselves, then when they joined the masses, the world would be a far happier place. Thanks for loving me anyways :)

Families, ugh, let’s just leave that topic alone.

Come on, you know you battle with your faith, and you are doing so little to sort it out. You have such amazing potential and such an incredibly kind heart, like when we were at that pub the one time and you emptied your entire wallet into the Highway Hospice tin and bought me one rose with it from the basket the lady held. I kept those petals for ages. Then when my friend was stuck without a car and you lent her your spare one. Those are awesome gestures, but then you ignore them and go off to the casino… or that time you did that hike across the mountains to… how did you put it… oh yes, ‘to see the view’; that is a soul crying out if ever I heard a soul crying out. Then when you came back you refused to talk to me about it. You avoided the topic every time I mentioned it. You have these thoughts about me as your wife, but you can’t sit down and talk to me about important stuff… how does that work? If this friendship lasts a lifetime, then I may get to figure you out one day.

You’re a dork. You never had to come to any shows. Relief my backside, you actually genuinely enjoyed some of them. Especially that hypnotist, and that one with the contortionist and the girl who played that instrument with the air between her legs…

So have I showed you I care now? Care, but am not interested in romance or games? It’s great that you and your ego get on so well, marry yourself, you’ll be very happy :-P

So did I live up to the dare? Do you and your ego have an idea on my reasons now? Remember, you don’t have to reply Dude, you really don’t

P.S. Now that you've got my brain going, and I've actually read that definition of romance, maybe I've got it all wrong and I really am a romantic because I make up nonsense in my brain all the time... I shall think more on this one, it's a different perspective indeed... hmmmm

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