images.jpgI just got in from having been out with friends at a bar and a club. This week was la parisienne’s first week back from Africa, and working in my unit. But I hadn’t seen her at all. And she hadn’t contacted me, even on Skype, I guess because I asked her a few months ago not to be in touch because I, having been d u m p e d cannot go from boyfriend and someone who loves her to just being a friend, which apparently is what she would like. This evening she showed up at the bar where we were a very large group of people. I went up to her and said hi. To call the five-minute conversation we had stiff would be an understatement. It felt awful, there was no connection. And so after a while I left her, just like that. The evening progressed. More drinks, more music and eventually the bar closed. I didn’t speak with her again at that bar. Then we all ended up at a club. I really did my very best to enjoy myself. I danced with lots of girls. And I have to admit I danced close with them to see how she would react. I saw her glance over a few times, sort of with a dark face. But she didn’t come up to me even once. At one point I had to leave the dancefloor and there she was just at the edge, asking “Where are you going?”. I just said to the bar. I so wish I had stopped and talked with her. As I’m writing this my heart hurts. I danced with A Girl Called S – and Spanish Prosecutor exercised her very best match-making skills to make me and A Girl Called S hook up. But it failed. I think the fault was on both our parts, not only mine. I saw la parisienne dance, waving her arms in the air as I have seen her do so many times when she’s out drunk. Focusing especially on some tall, Palestinian looking guy. Eventually, I had had enough. I don’t know if they left together. I spoke with Spanish Prosecutor a bit, and by then I was very sad, and a bit angry. Angry at myself for being such an incapable shit, not even being able to pull any girl, even if my effing life depended on it, just to have a good time and forget the pain. I was angry at myself for letting myself go through this and not realise before I was too deeply into the relationship that la parisienne is not for me. But as I write that every fiber in me disagrees with that statement. I know I have feelings for her still, deep feelings. This has become clear from seeing her today. God I miss her. Spanish Prosecutor said “What makes you believe that every woman should desire you?” Very good question, but I said that’s not the point. The point is that I would like this one to want me. Who knows maybe she one day will. But likely not. She also said that my problem was that I tried and tried again with la parisienne instead of breaking off before I got too into it. Perhaps that’s a lesson to be learnt: know thyself and what thy wants and when you see signs that you won’t get it, break off, break off fast and run, run your ass off because odds are you won’t get it even if you try real hard once, twice or even thrice. But can you blame me for trying with la parisienne? I think not. I’m at that point in life when I go into a relationship fully, because who knows, maybe this one will be the one. I won’t fiddle about and not take it seriously that a girl likes me; rather I will give my all. I don’t have the time to waste on rubbish relationships. And so I did go in, guns blazing and giving everything. And therefore I’m sitting here now, at 4.30 a.m. writing about how utterly useless and incapable I feel. I blame fate, in a way, for not giving me a break, for making her come back and not give me the time I need to get over her, which I definitely would have had, if she had returned in August as originally planned. I blame fate for putting Barbie in front of me at this point in time – the girl I desired so much before la parisienne. The girl I felt I could fall for, and I mean really fall for. And I blame fate for having blinded me with la parisienne and having made me believe – rightly or wrongly – that she is the one for me. I feel useless for seeing her with someone else, believing that it should be me. I feel awful imagining what she will do with that person. I feel incapable, in fact, completely handicapped by the fact that life is so unfair and inequal between men and women when it comes to sex, the one thing at this point which could in some way validate me, even though I know it would only be for a while. But God how I need that victory now. But won’t have it. And the fact that I know that she could at the flick of a finger, truly infuriates me.

Fuck I hate it all.