Maurice Chabale

We found love drowned in unconcern but we lost it in a drop of the split milk

Oh those love memories…they tend to humbug you into a delusional love feeling to make you believe in its existence,  when in fact there is no a teeny tiny one left in your heart, like there is no any white liquid in an empty milk bottle that you’ve just dropped down. And the tears won’t work!

There’s nothing over there, but only fuzzy dreams and a pinch of self – deceit.

My first “real love”, real obsession,  -  that would be right to be called -   the only reason, why I chose this  city to live in since our first date at the boomy railway station, is now not more than an illusion that once occasionally happened in my life and disappeared so quickly as cropped up.

Oh gawd, we got hooked on each other at 1^st sight. I dunno what about him, it would be fair to speak only of myself, so that was me, who got hooked on him at 1^st sight.

And now I understand that this was a god damn - knock, knock cliché - ’ blind love’.

I mean…come on…what did I have to expect from a man who was ten years older than me, sociably protected by his high posts, and hand-shakings with the local administrative officials not to mention such an insignificance as the evident difference in our zodiac signs, characters and god knows in what else, coz we’d just spent a divinely beautiful fortnight together, leave the fact that that was the best fortnight ever in my bloody acne skin youth,  and that we’ d got acquainted via the Internet.

Yes, I know, I know that it was reckless to accept an invitation from a stranger I even didn’t see in real. But I was too young to think of such a bullshit like a self-protection,  so I hurried up to drive away to the seaside which was 3200 km far from my native place,  while my parents thought I was sitting locked in my apartment.  I had nothing to lose.

 Frankly speaking,  I thought I wouldn’t lose anything but a good impression he could supposedly not to make on me,  if I didn’t really like him.

Okay, seriously,  the worst he could do was to rape me, but the adrenaline kept boiling in my blood all over the body and  I ignored all the warnings that my sub consciousness was sending towards my brain synapses.   

I mean high risk, high reward.

Of course, as a result, I was charmed by his courtesy flavored with some sort of brutality in the way he looked like and behaved.

I don’t mention the sums he had blown off on me so that we could go out, and spend time like no other fab couple who just encountered. It was the craziest and the most mind – boggling two weeks’ stand, for sure!  Every guuuurrrrrl would be pleased to be treated like that!

And one knows how deranged I was after I got the message when cramming shit for my final exams at home, saying that we had to “break up” just because he “decided to restore the relationships with his ex” that now I understand was a fu***g outrageous lie.

Now I understand too,  how stupid it was from my part to grieve over the relations pouring your eyes out to get them completely dried off, but how strong I was at the same time to successfully graduate from the University without being kicked off, or hurting myself or  - even worse  -   committing a suicide,  though I was on the verge of doing the latter.

Lucky I am to smile even at the thought of it at the moment!

As a matter of fact, accept it or leave it, it all turned out for the best. So I accepted!

I can be free now. Life’s taught me a lesson that one can hardly ever meet his/her one and only ‘real love’, when he/she’s  just a pimpled middle class offspring. And that you can be delusional,  if it makes you happy! Time will show who’s been right in fact.

But you should always keep in mind that you shouldn’t cry over split milk when it’s really split © (Maurice Chabale aka Alexander Lichoutine, dated back 06/01/14).