second chances

Sometimes I think that the only way we could make it work is if we went back to being strangers. And re-write everything,

We’d meet and introduce each other. You’d follow my nervous gestures as I run my fingers through my hair, and I’d laugh at your jokes.

The conversations will be long, so will the walks. You’ll learn about my life and find every insignificant detail from my past fascinating because it made me the way I am today. And I will cherish the man you’ve come to be through heartaches and struggles.

We’ll create new memories. This time we’ll be careful not to stop hiding our flaws and let everything fall apart like the first time.

But, most of all, you’ll do better at hiding the other women, and I – at pretending it doesn’t bother me.


a fairy-tale, sort of

She always knew when he was with Her. Not physically per se, but in his mind and heart. It was in those moments that he became aggressive, detached and rough – pinning her down and turning the bed into a war zone. He was trying to extinguish his unhealthy attachment, to erase Her image – from his mind and life, strip it down and tear it apart until there was nothing but an aching scar in its place. She pursed her lips and took it, afraid to admit even to herself that she was enjoying this torture. Afterwards she was always quick to reassure him with her eyes that it was OK. Not that he seemed to care.

Inside her his movements were slow, deliberate; he listened to her sighs and barely audible moans and stroked her with tenderness he didn’t think he had in himself. Every time he wished they could stay connected like this until the end of time. She felt ethereal next to him; he needed physical validation that she was there. Albeit a short-lasting one.

He was careful to avoid all the places where he used to go with Her.Everything needed to be different. New. Unique. Luckily she didn’t resemble Her in anything. Different figure, brown instead of blue eyes, long straight instead of short and curly hair. Her features were so delicate she looked like a fair-skinned figurine; it took him a while to get used to handling her as he wasn’t fond of being careful. Sometimes he would think of Her generous curves and hour-glass frame. She was as different on the inside as she was on the outside – anxious, restless and fleeting like the surface of the ocean on a windy day. Nothing was what it seemed with her. He was unable to forgive her for nothing being like He, but loved her for who she was.

She often fantasized about talking with Her and so did he. A desperate attempt at seeking out the ‘why’ they hoped would fill the numerous cracks in their turbulent relationship. A vain one too as She had no interest in speaking to either of them. She had moved on; they were the ones who were stuck. He wished he could see them next to each other to know for sure if he had made the right decision. Not to compare them – no one can be better or worse than someone else; people are just different and he was perfectly aware of that. But he needed some sort of reassurance.

– Why do you put up with all of this? – he would often ask her.

– I love you. – she would reply.

– How is that even possible. I am so cruel to you.

– That’s all you have left.

– What if She never loosens her grip on me.

– She won’t, but it doesn’t matter.

One day he realized to his surprise he had pined her to the wall and was roughly slamming her against it not in an attempt to punish her (not her, of course, it wasn’t her fault…he was trying to punish himself), but because he had come to understand it was what she liked and expected from him.

He sighed with relief. Outside the dawn was breaking. Both of them had this renewed hope now everything would be different. And new. 

domestic disputes

It’s unnerving to live with a person who says: “There’s never anything to eat in the house.”

It’s tiring to live with a person who says: “There’s nothing to eat around here. Don’t forget to pick something on your way home.”

It’s nice to live with a person who says: “We’re out of food. Shall I get take-out or do you feel like eating out?”

lost souls alliance

People have sex without being in a relationship. Or have a relationship without sex. It’s not uncommon, believe me; simple statistics of messed up relationships.  Sometimes I wish things were simpler like they used to be in the far-away past: when people met, got engaged, got married, had kids, raised them, grew old and died together.  At no point were they setting conditions such as ‘we’ll just have sex and not get involved emotionally’, ‘sleeping with other people is OK if your partner doesn’t find out about it’ or ‘hitting up your ex for old times’ sake isn’t considered cheating.’

I have a dream (..) – I dream of a time when you had to be exclusive to be with someone, when just starting a relationship meant it was special and meaningful, and strong, and real. You’re not in that dream – if I have to put you somewhere, it’ll be on the opposite side – where people fill their cavities with everything and anything, where people ARE walking cavities, secretions and mourns. Doesn’t sound too special, does it? I hate to imagine how twisted you have to be to consider such relationships special.

No, I know you’re not fucked up, you and the rest of them. You’re just confused with all the endless possibilities the world has to offer (this is irony by the way); it’s difficult to spot the truly valuable things, worth keeping. Maybe someday you’ll understand. I am afraid it will be too late though. How would you be able to forgive yourself for letting go of the woman of your life (don’t worry – I am not talking about myself, I am not that deluded. You and I are a factual mistake. We were never meant to meet, let alone cross eyes or..) out of fear not to lose your chance of being with 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21 equally uninteresting ones? Chasing after women whose mark in your life only lasts as long as their marks on your sheets (yes, a single wash, a single one) and you – hoarding sex buddies and drinking yourself to death day after day after night. Is this the life you want for yourself?

Don’t answer that – I know you better than you know yourself. Unlike you I am not hurt or offended by the truth.  In the end it’s no one’s fault – we just got a bit mixed up. You picked up a girl who wanted, held important and cherished different things than you and me.. well, I just made the same mistake with a different person. I think it’s clear who the moron is.

More often than never you meet certain people only to realize what you don’t want in the person you’re with. Except in your case – you meet certain people only to chase away what you delude yourself you want. Seems a bit pointless, don’t you think?

I used to find it kind of sad. Now I see the really sad thing is trying to make room in your life for people who never wanted you in theirs.

men want what women don’t need

“Perception, my dear. It’s all about perception.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Let me give you an example. When we fuck, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him tightly, burying my nose in his neck. He thinks it’s a sign of passion and uncontrollable desire. I do it, so I don’t have to look at him [..]”

A Poker Game of Love


I don’t mind giving you my body – it’s the least I can do. It [hardly] means anything. It would cost me far more to make you fried eggs in the morning. Is this confusing you? Think of it this way – giving you my body is the same as your telling me that I’m special. Both cost less to the person giving them; are only meant as means to an end and end up costing more to the person receiving them. Kind of sick, isn’t it? Go ahead and stroke your ego – having my body is as far as you went (although I know it’s more than enough for you). The guy is happy – he gets to perpetuate the self-deceit of being a capable and experienced lover and so is his partner- she’s heard the absurdly shallow and blatantly untrue confirmation of being a fleeting desire in the eyes of a man. Both achieved at the expense of the naivety (or so they would like to think) of another human being. What we don’t know is that instead of outsmarting the other person, both are screwed over – he will say anything to sleep with her and she will do anything to hear what she wants. Both following the logic that the goal justifies the means, especially when the same will get you what you’re aiming for at absurdly low-cost maintenance fees. He can proudly parade his conquest, unaware and not caring that he never had but a blow-up doll in his hands and she can blissfully think she’s worth more than any other woman in his life, oblivious that the words she just heard are always the same, only the girl is different. Then they can both go and buy books with sugar-coated puff that explain how she’s from Venus and he’s from Mars to bring the worn-out bodies and drained souls [some] comfort. However, what they should really be paying for [if anything] are books telling them they can never meet at the point of being together.

If our need for companionship becomes so dire, we’ll stop just long enough to fool each other into believing we have anything in common. And we do. Lies. Stay with me and I will keep lying that you’re ‘the only guy I’ve done [insert random sexual act here] with’ or ‘the best I’ve ever had’, sustaining your ginormous unjustified ego of a conqueror and you’ll keep lying that I’ve ‘meant to you more than any other woman in your life’ and ‘you’ve never loved another the way you love me’ to encourage me to keep my feet off the ground and my head high in the clouds (where it usually is most of the time anyway). We’ll call that love and build ruin our lives around it, complaining that everything falls apart, but forever denying the obvious fact that anything built on a lie is fleeting and ends bitterly. For it’s always lies that bring people together and it’s the truth that drives them apart – that’s simply the way things are and always have been.

Life will pass and we will fill it with promises of love and closeness; we’ll listen to songs, read books and watch movies about it and that will have to suffice. In this lifetime at least. In the mean time I have to remember to keep on lying to you that you’ve conquered more of me than anyone before you and you’ll have to keep on fooling me into believing I’ve meant more to you than anyone else in your life. Seems like a fair deal to pass time.

if it starts, it has to end

In the beginning they are all so respectful, polite and witty and we are all so charming, mysterious and soft-spoken it’s [almost] surreal. It’s inhumane to keep it together 24/7, but we all manage to pull it off somehow – in the beginning of every relationship that is. Fully aware we’re setting ourselves to fail, since it’s only a matter of time to screw up.

It’s a widely known secret that we only get one chance in love..and completely off topic – it’s also a widely known fact we always, always, always manage to blow it fairly quickly.

Women stop loving when they’ve been hurt badly. No amount of excuses, tenderness, belated loyalty and sweet gestures can change that. We can (and often do because we rarely leave a sunken relationship for reasons completely eluding to the logical mind) and  pretend we’ve forgiven, forgotten and moved passed the loss of trust and love for our partner, oblivious to the fact that the only thing we’re getting out of the relationship from now on, is an Oscar for a Best Supporting Role in a self-directed sham. Men might perceive this as cold-heartedness and being bitchy, but the sad truth is women save their most bitter resentment, disappointment and unkindness only for ourselves. He might even think that I am mean and unfair, which is fine, because I know that for everything he’s suffered – I’ve suffered for the both of us and for all the times I’ve been unkind to him – I’ve punished and will continue punishing myself long after we’re through and he’s moved on. It may take him one or two remedial relationships to mend his bruised heart, but I will pursue his image for years to come in every guy I throw myself at just to fool myself that what we shared was real.

Men don’t get or care about any of that. He’ll see a bitch out of hell – confident and self sufficient, provocative and seductive, which  will only hurt and convince him more that she didn’t care that much in the first place since she’s moved on so fast. He’ll never know that everything she’s become is because of him.. for him. To remind him what he rejected; to show him what he’s missing out on; to teach him that every woman is an illusion for she takes the form(s) of every guys’ dreams of her and to make him see and realize that. Men prefer to venture out to unconquered territories, unaware that what they think is familiar and well-known is as wild as the geese they want to chase. While chasing they’ll talk about the comfort of settling down and while settling down (not ‘once settled down’ because you never are, it’s a process) they’ll do everything to get away.

And it’s shattered. Beyond repair. It’s so predictable it’s not even worth crying over (but we do).

Then he starts apologizing, rationalizing, defending, reasoning, asking, hoping and more often than never it’s better to choose to be alone with somebody than alone with yourself. Men call it forgiveness and consider it a sign of true love. Women view it for what it really is – good old rational thinking.

with mediocre love comes great responsibility

Relationships from the type ‘whatever comes along, I might as well keep it as a back-up plan’ don’t just leave a bitter aftertaste in your soul, but are also harder to maintain and require more efforts, time and energy, regardless of what you may fool yourself. Talk about constructiveness! You wish I weren’t right and so do I, but truth be told there’s nothing harder for a man to do than convince a woman she’s needed, desired and longed for enough to stay – even if it’s just long enough for him to stick his dick in her. And women..women find it extremely tedious to consistently fool someone how attractive, strong, together, over-the-top in bed and overall awesome he is.

It all happened, actually it all happens when they thought they wanted same/similar things – a sheltered stop to hide from life’s disappointments and bruises and [possibly] someone to put together what was left of their formal selves. A woman, true to her girly nature, naively assumes this deal is the beginning of her happily-ever-after. And are far more practical – even if being of discriminating taste – after all, even the noblest of gentlemen eventually get tired of dining on 100$ steaks and crave a 3$ hot dog (as one guy eloquently explained to me once). Well put, isn’t it? A cruel mockumentary spin of the ever so effective ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ get-out-of-a-relationship card, which every men inevitably plays in his life. All you’re left with afterwards is the beneficial position of a trapped animal, generously bestowed the comfort of the grin-and-bear-it routine. Lovely.

With the deeply twisted and proficient ability of self-irony, cultivated through years of disillusions, only a woman is capable of sustaining this type of existence. I find it amusing you can intentionally lead someone on, believing your ‘temporarily’ is their ‘forever’, your ‘back-up plan’ is their ‘exclusively’, and your ‘hear me lie’ is their invitation to the most secluded parts of their soul. I know, I know – it’s not his fault he’s hurt me, after all I am the one who invited him in. To each his own, right?
After sufficient time goes by you come to terms with the extent of your naivety and pure foolishness, long after the anger, depression, bargaining and acceptance have kicked in; you are finally able to distance yourself to see he was right to do so. Who gambles everything on a single hand? Even if you’re holding a promising set of cards never underestimate the experience of the player you’re up against, because experience beats luck any time. And love is a straight game of poker – for someone to win, the other one has to lose. Mad it was yourself? Angry you were played? What was he supposed to do – talk you through the game, revealing all his tricks? It doesn’t work that way..

Then you’re told not to overreact, calm down, and ‘leave the situation as it is’.

And women are exceptionally good at leaving something as it is..It’s their queue to let go..of situations and the men who caused them.