written and unwritten

Her skin was the colour of chocolate, her eyes were dark and dim, and her hair was blacker than a raven’s plumage. She was precise, fierce and frighteningly consistent in her words, actions and general demeanour. Her movements were gracious and ethereal, creating the illusion she wasn’t walking so much as she was gliding on thin air, leaving behind an almost impalpable scent of desire and madness. She never stood still for too long and there was always a faint breeze drawing in mortals in a deathly grip of longing, obsession and delirium. Men instinctively wished to get a hold of her, to tame her, to domesticate her, to keep her hidden from the rest of the world. But she always found a way to get away with a smile, remaining her usual wild and charmingly free self.

He was her complete opposite. Fair-skinned and freckled with piercing grey eyes that could unnerve even the calmest soul. He always paced himself and was the very epitome of stability and homey comfort. Something about him promised calm seas of domestic bliss. His sense of self-worth and strength of character shined through in every movement, every deed. He was generous in his actions and frugal in his words. People stopped and listened to what he had to say and even the air stood still long enough for him to leave his mark on everyone whose lives he had entered. He liked it.

But what he liked even more was her. With her illogical behaviour and ability to create a whirlwind in a seemingly calm summer day. Everything he had achieved with years of hard work and restrain paled in comparison to the alluring prospect of throwing it all away just to follow in her footsteps and get lost in a world of ‘what ifs’ and ‘never agains’. He was good at planning life; she was good at living it. He imagined holding her head between his palms – his cold calm eyes staring into her fierce gaze. Ice and fire, motion and stillness, inspiration and strength.It would be simply marvelous.

Naturally,she knew. Women always know. Passing by in a fleeting moment she could sense his overpowering presence with all her being. Everything in their lives had led them to the moment when they would stand in front of each other with all the honesty they were capable of. It was inevitable and they knew it. 

He was closer to her than he had ever been; he could smell her scent; she could sense his presence. He felt drawn like never before. It was a moment of simple truth: two sets of eyes were calmly gazing at each other.

– “Checkmate.” – the Player exclaimed, moving his Black Queen to F1, next to the White King.

interest of conflict

‘I am literally going out of my mind’ a friend of mine complained the other day ‘She hasn’t cheated on me; she’s not inconsiderate, distant or absent-minded. In fact she’s as warm and loving as always and THAT’s pissing me off even more! Everything I used to love in her is now mind-numbingly irritating. The way she crosses her legs; her choice of TV shows; her browsing history. Is this the end?’

I pause and ponder. Clearly he’s interested in an answer that will bring him the much-needed peace of mind. ‘No’ I slowly admit. It just slipped. ‘When there’s a feeling..any feeling left it’s far from being the end.’

Even if this feeling is to hurt her, to cause her pain both physically and emotionally this is a desire in itself and as such it is a desire connected to her. A desire that still connects both of you. People often say it’s just a step from love to hate, but they seem to forget it’s just two to go back.

Human indecisiveness is at the core of the unnecessary amounts of heartache we inflict on ourselves and others. It can single-handedly send you back from a long and painful decision to end a complicated relationship (in the days BF – Before Facebook when updating your status just wouldn’t do) into uncertainty and doubt whether you’ll be better off alone. You realize a [possible] break-up will drive you insane with guilt and regret. And all those things that pissed you off only until a few days ago suddenly reveal themselves as endearing and sweet – testament to the strength and sincerity of the bond between the two of you.

Then you understand why in the heat of the moment when you’re yelling at each other and you’re pulling her away from the front door, your hand unconsciously slips down her body and after initially pulling away, she gives in unusually submissive and willing. You start rolling around, knocking stuff to the ground oblivious to your surrounding.This is still a struggle, albeit a different kind. It’s just as passionate and filled with eagerness to possess, subdue and submit the other one. This time out of love.

Out of that struggle a new ‘we’ is born: ‘why don’t we..we can try..let’s..’ If there’s an impulse it’s far from being the end, don’t you agree?

 

Relationship Geometry

Image

Relationship Geometry is pretty simple, although everyone is baffled why it [almost] never works out.

Proofs are necessary in math, but a definite deal-breaker in any relationship. Wasted energy into drawing intricate formulas to back up your love and loyalty kill every positive emotion. And before you know it, a two-way relationship takes the form of a triangle or a square (edit: unless the original agreement was for a polygamous relationship; I hear it’s quite..trendy these days to try it all, to have it all, to lose it all; I feel sorry for kids nowadays – we used to fail at one relationship at a time and it was barely bearable; now you have to fail on multiple fronts – how utterly devastating) while the original two lines drift apart beyond repair. For others the relation is the equal sign put in between two, different in appearance, but effectively identical formulas..and despite the obvious outward difference that very sameness is what drives them towards each other. Those have a shot in hell of lasting. Most likely. Unfortunately, it’s human nature to get bored and look around for new equations, new proofs..you can be perfectly satisfied with the one(s) you already have and still look out of curiosity. That’s an issue for me and, basically, the reason why I sucked at math in school and suck at love in life – I never understood the driving force behind searching for another way to solve an equation or prove a theorem if I’ve found one that works and I am [pretty] content with it. I never understood what motivated the constant obsession to create and destroy in a perpetual circle of utter obsolescence through different methods if the end result is always the same. Pure insanity if you ask me.

In reality it’s fairly simple – the moment you take out either one of the sides of an equation, you’re always left with a zero. That’s all the math I need to know.

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 men..men 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.