You know him, you have had him, that illusive man that comes into your life and flips it around causing the sand to flow in another direction. He captivates your mind with his thoughts of the grandeur of love. His ideals appeal and it is near impossible to resist him.
Oh, Durban boys.
They flip my world around and always have. They are so cool and relaxed. A little repressed with the lack of activities in the area but that in turn makes them interesting, new and fairly untouched. My Durban boy flipped my hour glass around, climbed inside the glass and let the sand granules - that is my life - pour all over him and at the same time stealing a few granules for himself. He changed the pace of my life and made me re-asses what I was doing and where exactly I was heading. It is almost like he forced me to sign a new lease on life that encouraged me to live life and not just allowing the day to day flow of it to become the norm.
It was not the inertia alone that made me feel that my life was an endless stream of nothingness but the idea that I had resided to living a life alone in quiet desperation for something else that made me feel unfulfilled and dead. Are we just looking for ways to feel alive? Is a routine the beginning of an end? And can one man really come in to our lives and re-arrange the furniture that the flow is better and the view extraordinary?
It happened to me. After our tornado of a relationship was gone I was left in complete disparagement. Was it that the excitement had ended or is it just a case of another boyfriend down the pipe line? Did I loose a soul mate, or did a mate just take a piece of my soul? And if the latter is true how does one begin to replace that piece that was so carelessly taken?
I went on a sexual deviant rampage. The empty piece in my heart made way for a very personal method of self destruction, it is almost as though I was half the man I was suppose to be and the caring loving side was no more. I went out bar jumping and bed hoping with hopes of replacing it. Was it satisfying? It was more of an expression of self hate and I would impose that hate onto any man willing to take it. Surprisingly enough there are many men out there eager for a little bit of salacious degradation from a sexual partner. And this was by no means my proudest moment in life.
In the end my life was more of a vase with water and he was the flowers. Once the flowers were gone it took time to clean out the vase and replace it with clean water for the next florist to come along and decorate it. so lets always try keep our vases clean and half full.
No comments:
Post a Comment