That little blue car, an original
Mini, sat shinning for sale. When I pulled up the photo, I
remembered so vividly, I almost laughed. I
thought he was rich, I really thought he would buy that car. When I told my
best friend what he did for a living, she had excitedly exclaimed the profession "made bank!" The photo was saved on my computer from my phone; I had sent it to him
in a text along with the photo “how about this car?” At the time I didn’t
realize I made more money than he did, and even I thought that car was a bit
pricey.
You never know what someone else
really thinks of you. It’s pretty interesting to think that the only person you
have the possibility of really knowing is yourself, and still most of us don’t
succeed at that.
Looking back I can see that my idea
of him, was really just my dreams rolled up in a ball and stabbed by a toothpick
flag with his name written on it in sharpie. I thought he was responsible,
capable and rich. I thought he was inexperienced and therefore unjaded by love, unlike most people his or my age (we have an age difference of seven years.) I
was wrong about everything, except he is responsible in the most minimal sense
of the word.
I had given someone up when I
thought I found greener pastures. The person I'd left wouldn’t give me what I wanted, emotionally, and I knew it. So it seemed easy to drop him. Maybe it’s better to
know what you’ve got, even if it’s less than you want. Rather than to move
under the delusion you will get what you want from someone else. The guy I dropped
was rich, was responsible and at least in bed he was very, very capable. He
chased me for a year after I gave him up, until on new years eve I snappily
explained that I was in love and happy and he could fuck off. I’ve regretted
that ever since.
The little blue car was never
bought by the not rich man. He bought an old Maida with ripped seats. I never
stopped thinking about the person I had left for him. After our break up I
tried in vain to find my previous lover. Forget
emotions, give me your body and buy me dinner. Alas he was untraceable and
I am alone, wondering what I’ll imagine up when the next one comes along.
