Obsessed

It's not everyday you meet someone who could be your soul mate.  Someone who you instantly connect with and can tell all your dark secrets too without hesitation.  Someone who understands you, read you like a book, and in an instant know that you want him to stay forever more.  Someone who you can just melt into, drift away and also someone that can bring out the best and the worst in you.

It's only happened once or twice in my life and in recent weeks I met another possible soul mate of mine.  We talked and laughed and I could not believe how much we got along and connected, intellectually, physically, mentally, every bit of me, and us just connected.

When we both went back to our own homes after our first date, he sent me a text admitting how much he liked me, how much fun he had and I smiled.  Finally? I thought.  I was scared to fantasise but I couldn't help it.

We met up again, he came over, and we hung out in my room for a few hours.  He told me again how much he liked me and asked me what I thought of him.  I told him the truth, I said he was very young (28) but I did like him a lot also.

The next time we made plans to meet, I waited around in the city.  6pm went, no calls or texts, then 8pm then 9pm.  I sent him a text saying I was going home.  I called him when I was at home and he didn't answer.  I was devastated and hoped nothing was wrong but I was also so so confused.

The next morning he sent me a text saying how sorry he was.  And then he called and I forgave him, he promised it wouldn't happen again.  And we made plans to meet up that night.
When I finished work I texted and called again.  No answer.

I went out, got drunk, got wasted. And yet I still called him and texted. And he still didn't reply.

The next day, still intoxicated I called him again.  He said 'hi' like everything was ok and nothing happened.  He wanted to meet up later on.  I didn't believe him so I went to sleep off my hangover.  Later in the afternoon he did come over and we hung out again.  He asked me if I was mad he didn't call me.  I said I was pretty easy going.  And that was all was said about the matter.  It was a state of bliss.  I loved every bit of him being with me.

When he left that night he told me he would call me the next day to plan a date.  The same thing happened the next day.  Stood up again.  I then flipped.

I bought 3 bottles of wine, 2 pizzas and a pasta and got drunk again.  I started sending him psycho texts out of rage.  Ones that included lines such as 'I thought we had a mutual understanding that we liked each other', 'Are you just playing the field', 'Please can we talk about this', 'Why don't you come over and hang out', 'What did I do wrong?', 'I'm drunk, I like you too much', 'You're awesome fun to hang out with'.

It carried on for days until finally he responded with 'I have been wanting to see you, but your texts freaked me out a bit'.

All was forgiven.  And he wanted to see me again.

Then that night it happened again.  He blocked me from an online chat and I flipped once more.  'WTF did I do?', 'Can we sort this out?', 'What happened? Are you mad at me'.  The texts were needy, desperate, the 12am calls went unanswered.

I saw myself obsessed with this guy, confused, outraged at his behaviour.  How can someone treat me so bad, yet all I want is for him to want me and only me in his life.  Such desperation, panic that he probably thought I was crazy.

The next day, after an apologetic text and the reassurance that he still wanted to see me, all was forgiven again.

We made plans to meet up that Saturday night.

Friday night I was just chilling at home when he called wanting to come over.  Booty call.
Me in my drunken state agreed and he came over.  The next morning he said he would come back in the afternoon.  We made plans to have pizza and have a few drinks.

Later that evening, my calls and texts went unanswered and I was home alone again waiting for him.

The next day I received a text. 'Hey.'
I asked him what happened to him and he didn't reply.

The next few days, I would get random texts from him asking me how was I was, and it would always end with a standoffish 'I'm good', 'At basketball'.

I got back online, and started to look around again.  Keep myself occupied and try to forget.
And today I get another text, 'Hey how are you?'.
After a few more texts with no direction, I asked him if he was busy tonight and if he would like to grab a margarita.
No reply.

A few hours later, I noticed he checked my profile.

In the words of Johnny Cash 'And it burns, burns, burns'
My whole inside was burning up.  Rage, disappointment, anger, sadness.

I need to get him out of my head, out of my life.
It's so hard to let go when you think you meet someone who just gets you.  I didn't have to explain myself to him, nor him to me.  We just became.

Or so I thought.  He is obviously playing the field and nothing more.  I don't understand how his actions could be a big act.  He seemed so genuine to me.

All my friends tell me he's no good but yet how can I want him so so much.

I'm trying to just let go.  But half of my heart just keeps looking at my phone hoping to reconnect.
Deep down it won't happen but I wish so much my deep down instinct is wrong.

Let go. Let go.  He is only 28.  Just a boy. Not ready. Scared of my being so full on.

Just a player.

I need to chill the F out. Breath. Move on and let him go.

Still in my twenties

I don't believe I act my age, I certainly don't feel my age.  I know friends and family who are younger than me, already settled, kids, mortgages, money in the bank, superannuation growing.  I on the other hand have none of those and I go out with my cuz who is ten years younger than me, behaving like I'm in my twenties.  Maybe for now I can get away with it, but for how much longer?  When I was bar tending I used to look at 'older' ladies - and I mean in their forties behaving like they are twenty something and it just looked tacky.  Back then I thought that, but now I see myself becoming one of those ladies in the near future.

Take one night at Ivy for instance.  Feeling rather happy after dinner at Uccello's, a brief stint at Pool Club, we went up to Ivy.  Talent was in abundance there that night.  I went up to one guy and immediately started pashing him.  His friend cheered him on and I carried on dancing.  I always wanted to kiss a nerdy guy unawares, and I did it that night. Tick.

Before I knew it I was dancing arm in arm with another guy.  I looked at him and smiled.  His body was hot, he had abs like bricks and I bent down and bit it.  Why? I don't know.  Ask the vodka and shot of tequila.  I then asked him if he was gay.  I think he got offended but I don't even know why I asked him that.  He said no.  So I said "prove it and kiss me".  There I went again, kissing him in the middle of the dance floor.  Nerdy guy in the background and I think Nerdy guy's friend was dry humping me but I wasn't sure, it was packed with people.  But then Mr. Abs, he left, I wasn't sure why.  Probably had to do with me being stupid.

Off I went dancing again and I saw the DJ's playing on a stage.  Whatever possessed me then, I jumped up on stage and started dancing.  It was short lived and I got told to get off by security but it was a fun filled three seconds of fame.

The night ended with a quarter pounder and two servings of fries.

A typically fun night for an early twenty something.

I try and tell myself to just keep having fun and I am.  Enjoying single life is fun.  But I do think of wanting something more.

When I am throwing up in the morning, when I am so hungover I can't move, all I really want is for someone to stroke my forehead and bring me a glass of icey cold water.

That cake

Looks harmless and quite delicious.

That's what I thought when I saw the chocolate cake being taken out of the oven to cool and later spread with icing.

It wasn't that I didn't know what kind of cake it was - I actually did, but I thought it had always been a  bit of a gimmick.  A high-school craze that didn't really mean anything much.

Such was the case when I sampled 'special' Anzac cookies way back in my teens, I didn't really feel anything mind altering or physically altering - maybe just a little bit of a funny tummy.

This chocolate cake that I tried, was so moist, and after a few bites you couldn't even taste anything other than chocolate and I guess I must have forgotten the special ingredient in it.

I started laughing at the slightest of things, I met a gay Thai guy and I thought he was the best thing that could've happened to the party, his 'camp-ness' totally emphasised but I thought it was just him.  I started dancing around the room and still didn't realise the cake had any effect, rather I thought it was the white wine I had drunk nearly a bottle of.

Then I got ready for dinner and realised how hard it was to put powder on, suddenly the world seemed distant and I struggled with the GHD through my hair.

'Oh no!' - I gasped - this couldn't be... I haven't felt like this in over a decade and there was a reason why.... I didn't like it.

By the time I got to the lift, my legs were tingling, my body started to and I regretted eating that cake right there and then.

In the car and onto the restaurant, I felt that time had stood still and by that stage I couldn't measure my voice levels, a trip to the ladies and back to the table felt like weeks apart.  I couldn't stay in the restaurant, everything felt distant, like I was in a bubble or a vacuum from reality.

Back in the car, with takeway by my feet, I started to jump back and forth in time. I thought I was still dressed for work but then not, didn't know what in the world was happening and I just wanted it to stop. But it wouldn't get any better, my body was like a big tingling pimple about to burst.  I was in a world of hate and swearing at that damn cake repeatedly.

I don't think I remembered how to eat, chew, get the fork in my mouth without missing it, the whole time trying to stop myself staring into the TV, mostly staring at nothing. Cursing in my head - 'damn that cake!'

Oh well I thought, let's just write off tonight, forget about it and look forward to a new day tomorrow.

My throat began to feel light, a bit funny, like I couldn't swallow as my throat was too big to contract and that I had no muscle there anymore.  By then I couldn't even talk properly, I couldn't mouth my words, and my voice was merely just a hushing sound of mumbles.

I passed out and woke up to the new day I was waiting for.

I was happy to feel normal again.

How exhausting!

On the upside - I felt refreshed, rested and felt good all over.

There goes one chocolate cake that I would be happy not to try again.

Yours truly

Miss A

n.b - 'the cake' is not pictured