It’s one of those days, you are dressed like you are going to a beggar’s convention. The sun is so hot that your lips are painfully dry and you are sweating like a fat athlete. Your destination still a couple of many blocks away and you unable to afford a bodaboda, walking it is.
As you make a turn, you bump into Clara (the witch that broke your heart). Hoping she hasn’t seen you, you lean back and try to get lost in the small crowd in front of you. But as the devil would have it, Clara already saw you.
Meanwhile, Clara, has her game on ‘A’ today. Hair done, nails done and everything well done. Her dress is clinging on to her beautiful body exposing those curves and that fat ass you still miss. The hot sun working to her advantage; the Dior logo on her shades is as big as the IPhone 6s in her hand. Her lips are not dry at all, thanks to the lip gloss and the bottle of mineral water in her hand; basically the only thirst she’s dealing with is the lust from the men looking at her.
The devil now grinning at how things are about to escalate for you; Clara shouts your name and even waves you over.
Wearing a genuinely surprised face, you fake a smile and walk up to her like you are glad you run into her. Those seconds it takes to get into her wide spread ‘hug expectant’ arms are enough for you to remember that as of that morning, your Axe deodorant was no longer an asset you can count on. Now you are about to hug her with your smelly armpits vs. her strong Italian perfume that hit you moments before you even saw her.
You look up to the heavens, “dear God, am going in” and you get into that hug. Of course Clara smells the sweat and frowns but her head is over your ‘taxi-dusty’ shoulder – you don’t see the frown. You pull away from the milli-second hug and you can’t help but ogle at all the niceness that’s Clara.
After a brief chit-chat where you honestly compliment her and hope she says nothing. Wrong! She replies “thanks, you are not…” pauses “… so how is work?” Remembering her pastor told her not to lie, Clara does not compliment you. Not that she doesn’t want to, but she has nothing to compliment.
As you bid each other farewell, hoping for a last hug, she leaves you hanging avoiding further contamination. Clara walks away a satisfied ex knowing you are definitely not doing better. As for you, regret doesn’t define your state of mind.
And that my friend is what happens when you are on the other side of the ‘ex’ curse. Next week, we look at you on the other side.