Foolish infatuation
Posted by jessbabe on Monday Dec 28, 2009 Under SentimentsToday I’m going to tell you a story.
A story about a girl. This girl wanders around in this pretty city. A city filled with glass buildings, green grasses and big trees, coffee in the morning, wine at night. Luscious women walking on the street with their 4-inch heels, men with their suits on. In this pretty city, she lost her identity, she lost herself to a man.
A man that picked her up in his Mercedes for fancy dinners in posh restaurants. He showered her with gifts and surprises. She was indeed in love with his money. His money bought her a lot of happiness, countless joy. One fine morning, she opens her eyes and realized he is the one. She turned around, he was sleeping soundly, she gazed into his angelic face. She kissed him on the forehead. He woke up with a smile.
Three months later, she wakes up and realized that he is not the one she wants to marry. She turned around, looked into his angelic face and discovered flaws and faults in him.They got into a big fight that morning. He came home after work with a bouquet of her favourite lilies with a note that says, “I will wake up every morning loving you, go to bed every night loving you.” She read the little note and tears rolled down her cheeks, he hugged her tightly and whispers into her ears, I love you.
Have you ever wake up in the morning feeling like you are on the top of the world, other morning you feel like staying on bed all day till the day is over?
Two days ago, Mr. White called me from nine thousand miles away, I was giggling in my heart. The first thing he said,”Remember the summertime, it wasn’t just a weekend. You said you would not hear from me and here I am calling you on Christmas morning.” It was mutual attraction or summer fling, whatever sounds appropriate to you. We spent a weekend together and expect not to hear from one another again, but deep in my heart, I secretly begged Santa to give me the best Christmas present – to hear from him again. I want him to embrace me in his arms again. His little pecks on my naked vulnerable neck. How he would hold me close right next to him all night long. I am infatuated. This foolish weekend keeps my head up. I wonder when we meet again, would the perfect image of you still runs in my head?
Last night, I shared my bed with White Boy. He tries to stroke and caress me till I fall asleep, I stopped him. Usually, I would love such gestures but it seems inappropriate at the moment. White Boy questioned my weird reaction, I simply said, ‘I might fall for you.’ He stroked my head one last time with a long peck on my forehead. This morning, I woke up and I know it’s the end of our short affair. It’s back to city life.
*the story above is purely fiction
