Cuddling Pillows

After pleading exhaustion, I asked to be taken home because I was as they say here in South Africa, ‘gatvol’. Gatvol of making nice and small talk that really got me nowhere. The longer I was in his company and hoping to get a straightforward explanation from him as to the fuckery I had to endure over the past fortnight was just an exercise in futility. I don’t particularly take well to being patronised and plain being lied to.

Any libidinous feelings deserted the tense air between us and all I wanted to do was go to collect my child from the babysitter and head for a nice bath, a calming bedtime story, prayer and Kung-Fu cuddles. I felt physically, mentally and emotionally spent. There was nothing left there for me to even tap into and hold up the pretence.

Having heralded the earliest ending of a lover’s reunion ever by driving the point home with some face splitting yawns and exaggerated stretches, I dragged my shell to the car. It was uncomfortable to say the very least but for the first time since the shouting began in my head there was silence...glorious, blissful silence. Whether this silence was as a result of shock or genuine apathy remained to be seen, both of us were very aware of this.

With the perfunctory kiss goodbye at the gate I made a bee-line to collect my baby and both she and the babysitter were clever enough not to probe why I was home so early. My child due to genuine respect and an innate knowledge of how to read her mama’s face and my friend due to fearing for her life coming into the line of fire when my plastered look of composure cracked. Nemesis sent a message to let me know that he was home safely and when I didn’t respond after ten minutes he decided to give me a call to check if I was alright. I said that I was fine. (He should’ve known right there and then, a woman is never ‘fine’- men please take note)

Calmly I told him to give me a few minutes so that I could get through the housekeeping and admin so that we could chat without anything rushing me. He asked how long I would need and I informed him that an hour would suffice. As it was still pretty early I knew he would not sleep until I got in touch with him. With my child planted firmly on my bosom and drooling contentedly I dove into the maelstrom that waited.

 Once the perfunctory niceties were dispensed with I asked him which part of any of what was happening right now made sense not to me but to him. He immediately pointed out that my behaviour that evening was nothing like what he had come to know me for. Having had that pointed out I asked if he had even the slightest inkling why it was thus, to which he expressed how he had expected the usual rousing welcome accompanied with pompoms, cancan dancing, cheerleaders and some hot sticky cuddling to cap off the night...but alas he was in his bed alone trying to mould my Nubian form out of some very reluctant goose-down white pillows and failing dismally.

I expressed my sincere disdain and commiseration at his circumstances and assured him that not all days are the same, again reiterating my exhaustion. He asked if he should let me alone so that I might sleep to which I responded that attempting to sleep when my heart and head were not settled would not solve anything, I knew for a fact the sun would come up the next morning with me still lying in prone staring at the ceiling and fighting myself in my own head. Finally he asked what was wrong -as if he didn’t know, but I saw his angle and he was not going to get a word out of me until he acknowledged wrong doing, gave a satisfactory explanation and made things right.

What came first was the apology.

Grunt!

“What are you apologising for?” I asked pleasantly.

“I have not been honest with you and I have let you draw conclusions off my silence that are altogether wrong,” he said.

“Indulge me,” I said as I sunk my back deeper into my pillows and rolled the now sleeping bunny from on top of me.

He asked if I was being sarcastic and as serenely as I had been throughout I responded that I wasn’t being catty at all and was dying to know what he had to say for himself. I was only going to be in a position to accept or reject any apology from him once I knew what was being apologised for. Nemesis was conducting himself as someone who had done no wrong and expected the excitement of his return to overshadow the obvious misgivings his whole departure and absence had caused. To add insult to injury he expected a hero’s welcome, receptive arms and a moist, throbbing receptacle for his turgid, throbbing member.

He admitted that his treatment of me had not been fair and that I deserved better from him given the place I held in his life. I exhaled loudly and let him continue, all the while fighting back a sudden well of tears that had begun collecting in my eyes. Listening to him talk I could sense his sincerity, either that or he really puts on a good show. He was in a position where he had trapped himself solidly by the path he had let his life take and there were things about it that he could no longer fight or try to change. He loves me, he never planned this. It has him off kilter because his life is so planned that he can right now by his calendar tell you exactly where he will be on the 7^th of November as early as the January of the same year. If anything deviates from the course that has been predetermined it totally screws him up. There is no disambiguation between his personal and professional life, hasn’t been for over a decade.

Enter hot blooded female...

Surely this would be the time to take a chance on feelings that you declare to be real and a source of great peace and joy and factor them into your proverbial calendar. 

Well not if you are Nemesis!

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