One of those days!

It’s midday on Wednesday and I’ve decided to work from home, I actually feel a bit under the weather and to be honest haven’t fully recovered from the weekends event, my detox isn’t going well either. I have already relapsed and was on my second bottle of wine this week, now I’m devouring a cinema size packet of minstrels and a salad, I’m trying to balance it out… Im putting it down to PMS and gonna mark it off as a cheat day; I’ll detox again next Monday. My week has completely gone down hill, I actually thought things were on an upward spin after meeting ‘Mr fine’, but I haven’t heard from him either so as usual, it’s the waiting game… single life in your thirties is not for the faint of heart. I am so close to downloading Tinder swiping right to the first five hot guys I see and picking one of them.
I wonder if I pressed rewind on life or simply control, alt, and deleted some of the shitty experiences my wonderful twenties brought me then rebooted that whole chapter if I’d be in a better position now. For example, if I had got married to one of my university classmates, had children around twenty six or twenty seven, brought a property in a nice catchment area like Dulwich or West Wickham, I’m almost absolutely positive I’d be happy and settled into a nice middle class groove of children’s birthday parties, husband and wife double dates and the all exclusive mummy clubs…I know “Rose tinted glasses and all that” but I’m beginning to think that any alternative is better than the shenanigans single life brings you, like right now I should be working but I’m sat here listening to another You-tuber rant on about their perfectly edited life on a stupid husband tag and I’m questioning myself, wondering whether I’m pretty enough? If I’m slim enough? Am I educated enough? did I make the wrong decision to focus on my career instead of marriage and why the hell ‘Mr Fine ‘hasn’t called or sent a text? It’s been four days and yes I’m counting; Nathaniel on the other hand has been calling and texting non stop. I actually feel like throwing my I-pad through the window unto the street I’m so frustrated. I really don’t know how he manages to make time to do all of this sneaking around… doesn’t his Mrs check his phone? I’ve managed to ignore all his messages the last few days, all but one which read…“ I Love you Nay, not her, YOU! Tell me you didn’t feel anything the other night…..?”
I didn’t want to respond to him and for the last three hours I hadn’t but ignoring him at this point was giving me a headache, I desperately needed a resolve so I responded. I wanted to tell him that I felt it too, that It has never gone away, that I felt it at the christening, in the office when I asked him why he hadn’t chosen to be with me, every time our eyes meet I feel it, because actually I realise that’s my truth to the extent that on friday night I wanted him to hold me and tell me that the past two years never happened that we were still in ‘relational bliss’. And she never existed. I wish he had lifted me up, put me on the counter and made love to me all freaking night. There, I said it! but I cant be that girl, not in my thirties. Instead I rationalised that it would be better to deny deny deny, I told him to fuck off and that the nice little inappropriate text he sent me should be redirected to his wife! Why does he think that it’s ok to do this to me, does he think that I’m happy to remix another shitty relationship with him. Does he think I’m like “ ooo yes please Nathaniel can I be next? Let me have her leftovers…“Forget that BS, No Nathaniel, Fuck right off! and now…. I’m blocking his arse.
I was actually screaming in my kitchen at this point, like a mad women in a full blown conversation with myself. There was nothing taking me out of my funk today, absolutely nothing; so I’m going to get my MacBook, this bottle of wine, the rest of these minstrels go to my newly decorated office, shut the door and get back to work; I’m done.
#oneofthosedays #hustlehard #ctrlaltdelete

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The Morning after…

Sometimes good things happen the Morning after… Sometimes!

Sometimes you wake up and you literally want to hit snooze on your alarm clock, stay in bed all day, eat comfort food, watch the notebook or Love and Basketball or some other rom-com that will bring on the water works and just try again the following day; today is one of those days. My eyes feel swollen, my throat still feels like it has a lump in it and my neck hurts, probably from the position I found myself in this morning. I was on my sofa, TV turned off and covered in a blanket that normally lives in my bedroom. I took the fur blanket off my legs, fumbled into my hallway and rummaged through my bag in search of my phone which was alarming louder and louder by the second, I had a number of missed calls and a few text messages from Nathaniel, but it was too early to be checking in with anybody, least of all him. I turned off my alarm and then fumbled my way back into the living room. I switched on the radio and started to undress, I was still in my work clothes from last night. I stripped down to just my knickers and Bra, that surprisingly were not matching, note to self must throw away all odd underwear! I actually remember trying to do this a few months back when I had a big clear out, but couldn’t throw them away, it was like all of my odd knickers and bras were some type of metaphoric symbol of my current life status, all single, once paired un-matched items on the rubbish heap; so I decided to keep them… I’ll do it next month, I’m too sensitive at the moment. I turned on the radio and slumped back into my sofa I was still in shock by last night’s shenanigans, how this man can justify his unannounced declaration of love is beyond me, more importantly why the hell did I entertain it. I sat there trying to figure out when I became so weak, I hoped that when you got into your thirties things and decisions become a lot easier, clearly not. I don’t even remember how the conversation ended or when he left, I must have fallen asleep mid conversation. I honestly don’t know what I thought would happen when Ii started talking with Nathaniel again. It’s obvious that we still have a connection and issues between us are clearly unresolved; however this was verging on ridiculous, I need to put an end to it, somehow.After finishing off the bottle of Moscato, an hour of rationalising my conflicted views and half a packet of cinema size sweet and salt popcorn, not my usual breakfast, I was finally at a place to face my reality and accept my truth, I Gesnay King still had feelings for my bastard of a cheating ‘Ex’ err correction, married cheating Ex, Nathaniel Grant. So with that thought, I decided to take myself and my new found awareness to the gym and then do my shopping for the following week, there was nothing I could do right now to change how I felt, furthermore I have no more energy to explore it.

 I took too long to get out the house and I was no longer in the mood for the gym, all I could think was this guy has totally screwed with my mind and I was now allowing him to mess up the better part of my day. I was thinking about doing a detox in the week, I might as well go to Sainsbury’s and buy only what I need for my detox. I had noticed in the week that my stomach was starting to rest on my lap when I sat down, ok slight exaggeration however I could be sitting down hold a bit of fat in my hand, stand up and still hold the same bit of fat in my hand. That’s more than enough for me, and I knew the culprit was my Friday night date life with popcorn, wine and American trash TV, not that I’m calling Scandal trash; but I needed to get the fat under control so I’ll have one more cheat day and veto my Friday nights in, for a gym class and go on a wine fast.

My Local Sainsbury’s had again changed around the products on each isle again which left me completely disorientated, I mean what’s the point? I literally spent more time figuring out where things were and less time actually shopping. Last week I would of found cereals on isle twenty four at the other end of the supermarket, now the cereals are in isle sixteen in the middle, opposite bread on the same isle as the eggs like it was some kind of flipping theme. as I stood there completely confused at this point when in my peripheral a good looking man passed the isle who also looked familiar… I began to think that I need to settle down with someone I’m totally compatible with, no more tine wasters, someone I can respect, someone who wants children, someone who… ‘Mr Fine’ from the train, I alarmed, I literally gasped, it couldn’t be? Not here… why on earth would he be at this supermarket? I’ve never seen him here before. I was about to B-line in his direction to take a closer look but remembered that I looked a hot mess. I was crossing all my fingers and toes this morning praying I wouldn’t bump into anyone I knew, I should have included people I didn’t ’t know, namely ‘hot men’ or more specifically Mr Fine; I really should have stayed in my bed, this was not the day to be seen.

 I continued shopping with much trepidation and finally found the wine isle, after my last 24 hours I needed to treat myself to a really nice bottle of wine especially as it would be the last for a long time. I wanted a change so decided to go for the sauvignon Blanc instead of my usual Rose or Moscato, the bottle I wanted was on the top shelf, as I was readying myself to stretch to the top shelf a manly arm reached over my head for the bottle, I was slightly startled but before I could turn around the deepest of voices hit the back of my neck, I lie not, it actually made me feel weak. The stranger put his other hand very politely on the small of my back as he reached for the bottle with the other and said “I’ll get it for you”. All I could think was Shit, Shit, Shit, I knew it…. Shit!. I literally froze, “why Jesus, why? Why today? why today?” my eyes look like golf balls, I have bed hair and a dam tracksuit on, WHY? This day couldn’t get any worse. I eventually turned around, still on tippy toes and greeted his fineness with a smile the best one I could muster up at this point; it was all I could offer. He smiled back and said “Cameron, I recognise you from the train and you look like you needed my help.” He handed me the bottle of wine and I thanked him, after what seemed like an eternity of just staring at him. I looked at his trolley then his ring finger, still no ring and he seemed to be shopping for one. “So this is your local?” I finally asked, he replied with, “No, I’m just stalking you,” he cracked a smile and said he was joking, which was a bit of relief, I have encountered too many crazy men in my life. He was more handsome close up and he smelt like cocoa butter and a Calvin Kline fragrance I loved but couldn’t remember the name of he had my whole attention. He went on to tell me that he had recently relocated because of work and that he was in finance, banking more specifically. My mobile started to ring so I excused myself to take a look at who was calling me. It was Nathaniel! I switched the phone to silent and continued my conversation. We ended up exchanging numbers, he said it was best, as I no longer needed to flirt with him on the train, maybe I have a bit of luck on my side after all.

#Mr Fine #Newbeginings.

Closure…?

Nathaniel finally walked into my kitchen, he had taken off his shoes and placed his coat on the stand by the door. He acted as though he’d never left, like we were both in relational bliss, like he had just come home from a hard day at work; I was back to angry, angrier with myself than him.  I’d spent years listening to his  broken promises; now, nearly after two years of being single, rebuilding my life and living without him, I’ve allowed him to wedge his foot back in my front door; no correction, his whole body through my front door and here he was, in the flesh, in my kitchen, ruining my night. He looked around my kitchen, I think he was inspecting my choice of decor, he always had an opinion about my Interior decoration, I remember him wanting to have a lot of input when I started the renovations. “I like what you’ve done with the kitchen Nay, it’s nice”. He sounded nervous, I could tell he wanted to get something off his chest. “Nathaniel, you didn’t come here to talk about my kitchen.” “I know,” he said “so what do you want?” “Why haven’t you called me Gesnay?” He said, cutting to the chase.  He was serious, he actually wanted me to answer him. “Are you always out this late, after work? What does your wife think? I said sarcastically, he ignored my question completely. “Stop deflecting Gesnay” “look, I don’t’ owe you anything,” let alone a conversation, so just say what you have to say. I could feel my blood boiling as he continued to question me about not calling him, he stepped closer to me, I could hear my heart beating, It was as though my body was in fight or flight mode. I knew why I hadn’t called him back, I realise I opened the conversation with him a few Fridays ago, when I was at work, but I stopped him before he went any further and said something he or I couldn’t come back from, I also didn’t meet up with him for lunch, so really, I don’t know what more there was to say on the matter. I was happy to leave it, he clearly hadn’t got that memo.

I stood there clasping my glass of Moscato, I really wanted to throw the contents in his face and sling him out of my flat, but I didn’t, I stood there in silence, not being able to say a word. I hadn’t had any closure with Nathaniel and deep down I knew that for the most part, I hadn’t wanted to confront the reality that I was not over the relationship, him or how much he hurt me, “Gesnay, don’t look away,” he said gently turning my face towards his, we were standing toe to toe,   I was close enough to smell his aftershave, it was my favourite he always wore it whenever he had an important day at work. He took my wine glass out of my hand and whispered in my ear…“I can’t stop thinking about you, about us, I can’t get you out of my mind, and it’s driving me crazy, “I looked at him in shock, thinking how the hell was he rationalising this in his head, after all this time, I was more conflicted than before, I didn’t know how to feel. Should I feel relieved, happy in some way that she doesn’t have the perfect life with him or was this the closure that I had hoped for a few weeks ago when we last spoke? I’m ashamed to admit, a part of me did feel vindicated but it quickly turned to rage “Miss Me! You Miss me? I said laughing through my anger in an effort to trivialise the situation, “I don’t want to hear anything else, Nathaniel. I don’t care about what you’re feeling, you’re too late, you had your chance two years ago, that’s when you should have banged down the ‘flipping’ door for me,  that was your time to fight for our love, our relationship…  my voice began to get louder with every word, I was fuming but I still continued to cuss “That BS that you’ve just spurted out, the same crap you’ve been rehearsing all day, is two years too late. “You think because you miss me that that gives you the right to come barging back into my life, you’re selfish Nathaniel, you are a selfish, inconsiderate, cheating, bastard.”   I was shouting at the top of my voice at this point, I had tears streaming down my face, I wanted desperately to stop myself, I didn’t want him to know that I was still angry and hurt, it was like verbal diarrhea, I had literally opened up the flood gates, and all my pent up feelings were bouncing off every wall, “I gave you everything, I said  pointing at him , we brought this house together, we were planning to have a family, YOU threw that all away, not me? YOU left, not me,” before he could even respond I continued… “I gave you all of me Nathaniel, and you wasted all that time cheating on me with her and to top it all off you marry her, you didn’t even have the guts to tell me you were getting married… And here you are, brass necked in my kitchen, talking about you miss me.” “Get out Nathaniel, don’t say anything else to me, and just get out!”

He didn’t leave, He just stood there, watching me cry, I was exhausted and embarrassed, embarrassed that I lost it in front of him, that he saw me completely exposed and vulnerable. I felt weak and defeated, all my barriers were down. I wasn’t over him and I could no longer hide it every word he said hit me to my core, it was palpable. I had accepted finally that we weren’t together, but I still loved him. He placed his hand gently on my cheek and started to wipe away my tears, I let him, I closed my eyes and I just let him.

#isthisclosure?

The Weakness In Me.

Love is a strange thing, it can make the weakest person strong and the strongest person weak.

Unknown.

The Weakness in me
The Weakness in me

It’s finally Friday and I’m so over this week, to say that my employers got their pennies worth, is an understatement. I’ve been working like a work horse on this new campaign, which will hopefully involve me taking a trip to new York, however right now that incentive is doing nothing for my life, I’m  just so tired. The London overground service is not helping my case either. My train had been delayed by 20 minutes and London Bridge train station was heaving, full of corporates waiting to go home; by the look on everyone’s face I’m sure they all felt the same way I did. The delay did however give me some much needed time to do some research on this new project I’m working on and send a few emails. I hate taking work home unnecessarily and I had the perfect single girl evening planned, that nothing was going to get in the way of. I stopped off at Waitrose and brought my favourite brand of ‘Pink Moscato, a minute steak and some vegetables that I could steam in about five minutes. I was way too tired to be cooking for hours tonight, plus I had to catch up with Scandal, the new season is coming out soon and I’ve still got the last few episodes from season four to watch… hopefully I can get two episodes in tonight, because it is too much right now. I’m literally on the edge of my seat.

My train finally arrived, 20 minutes later than expected, as announced. I keep bumping into this really handsome city slicker on my train, we often get on the same train in the morning but this is the first time I’ve seen him on the way home. He is so handsome and always immaculately dressed. He was reading Stephen Covey’s ‘Seven Habits of highly effective people,’ I concluded he was one of those progressive types. Our eyes met, he probably could feel my eyes burning a hole in the side of his face I was staring for so long… he dipped his head and slightly smiled at me, as if he was acknowledging that we were more than just strangers on the train, but not quite at the conversation level.   He was actually giving me anxiety, or butterflies, couldn’t quite work out which, I can’t deny that I liked it, and I was so attracted to him.  I looked down at his ring finger, I’m actually surprised I hadn’t done that sooner. It’s normally the first thing I do when I see a handsome guy; especially considering I’ve seen him at least twice a week for the last month. There was no ring! He was single, well not married, well he didn’t have a ring on, so at least a conversation could ensue, should he choose. I certainly wouldn’t be closed to a tete-a-tete with ‘Mr Fine.’  His shoes were nice too, my mother always said to take note of a man’s shoes, something about respectable men have clean, polished shoes. I’m beginning to believe her, Mr Landen from the gym always had dirty trainers and shoes and I don’t need to remind myself about his cheating arse. Idiot! Nathaniel was border line too. I still haven’t spoken to him, I have no plans to either, and I was stupid for opening up that door again, well hopefully he gets the hint.   I really wanted ‘Mr fine’ to come up and talk to me, use one of those old school chat up lines like “didn’t we use to go to the same college,” “or you’re beautiful, I just thought you should know”. He probably had a partner, or worse a ‘baby mother’ one of those evil ones that cause havoc for no good reason; anyway, I have too many emails to send, to be daydreaming about ‘Mr Fine’ and his imaginary life plus, I only had two more stops before I got off and these emails won’t send themselves.

I had just finished sending the last email when I looked up to see no more ‘Mr Fine,’ he probably got off in New Cross or Honor Oak. I had a 10 minute walk home from Forrest Hill Station, it was starting to get colder, and I couldn’t wait to get into my newly refurbished flat. It was neutral with a grey accent and wood floors throughout. I brought a Victorian fire place and had it fitted about a month ago, just in time for the autumn weather, I had dressed it with these amazing off white scented pillar candles which looked magical when lit. I loved my flat it was the perfect little sanctuary from all the madness, especially after a long day at work.

My plan was to put on my favourite Whitney vinyl record, light a few candles and cook my dinner in approximately 10 minutes… then settle to watch scandal. I turned unto my road, which is a cul-de-sac and noticed a car outside my house. The car looked familiar so I wasn’t really alarmed I just couldn’t remember whose car it was, I knew I had seen it in the last few weeks but wasn’t sure, until I got a little closer…it was Nathaniel!

I couldn’t believe that He had the audacity to come to my home, it was at least 8:30pm, how long had he been waiting? I looked at him through the passenger side window and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing? He jumped out of the driver seat to answer my question, by this time I was walking to my front door, trying not to turn this into an episode of ‘EastEnders’. He said that he needed to speak to me, as he scurried around his car towards my front door, just as I got to my gate he grabbed me gently around my waist from behind and pulled me into him, it stopped me dead in my tracks, my heart was beating so fast. I couldn’t actually figure out whether it was because I was so pissed off with him or if it was because his touch was so familiar,  or maybe it was because I was willing myself to ignore the fact that this situation between him and I was still unresolved. I couldn’t turn around, I just stood there with my back to him thinking, I need to maintain my composure, he repeated himself, but this time he whispered “Please Nay, I need to talk to you”,  what could he possibly want to talk to me about? There was actually nothing that we needed to discuss, it should be obvious from the lack of communication over the last week that there was nothing else that I was interested in hearing from him. “Nathaniel, what are you doing here?” I said. I was finally composed enough to turn around so I did, still in his grasp I looked him in his eyes and said” Nathaniel, let me go, I’m not your women”.  It felt like I could hear his heart beating, and there was a slight desperation in his eyes, which to be honest got me slightly worried. He stood back and said it’s important Nay, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. I stood there looked at him, kissed my teeth, and continued through my gate, to my front door; I headed straight for my kitchen, kicked my shoes off, dropped my tote in the hallway, took out my oversized wine glass and poured about a quarter of the Pink Moscato into the glass. I then waited whilst he made his way into my kitchen.

#Scandal #ThereGoesMyGirlsNight.  #TheWeaknessInMe.

I’ve got Questions…!!

My Worst Enemy is Me Memory
My Worst Enemy is My Memory

Last week Friday was a big mistake, all of that office pacing should have given my stupid arse some take up time to really think about whether I needed to open this flood gate of drama. I knew from the moment the first call didn’t go through that I was opening up a can of worms and yes I said my first call,  I’m so embarrassed but I had to call him; It was like I hit desperation and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting all of my unrequited questions being answered.  He didn’t have a voicemail option either so I couldn’t leave a message, I mean who doesn’t have voicemail these days? I made one more attempt and I still hadn’t got through, it was honestly too intense. It was about 9:45 am and I had a meeting at 10:00 that needed a bit of preparation, what’s more I needed to collect my thoughts and salvage the little dignity I had left. So I promised myself no more calling. I’ve been working in advertising for some time now and recently just got promoted to assistant creative director for quite a notable company in the city. We’re currently working with a well known brand on a big campaign so God knows what I was doing with all my time chasing that clown; I loved my new position and needed to make a good impression as some of the executives were attending this mornings  meeting.  I was also the token ethnic in the team and from experience I knew my competency would be scrutinised to see whether they had made the right decision when appointing me; I certainly was not about to give room for scrutiny.

The meeting room was on the sixteenth floor so the views of the city were amazing, I could see the’ London Eye’ from our meeting room. I sat facing the view, I positioned myself near the head of the large glass meeting table, a good enough position to show my confidence but not too close to where I knew the executives would be seated, that would have been too much pressure for me, especially after the morning I was having. I was  also relieved to see no one had arrived yet, I know someone was expecting me to roll in late. I had a few minutes before the meeting started to gather composure however caught myself  reminiscing on the time that Nathaniel took me for a date on the ‘London Eye’ before my colleagues came in.

I was so in love with Nathaniel I felt like our date was just a couple months ago and not actually five years ago. I remembered being  so scared and for some reason  half expected the over sized tourist attraction to go a lot faster then it did.  Nathaniel was so attentive and freakishly intuitive, he could see I was petrified despite my calm demeanor, so to calm me down he kissed me, we kissed from the beginning of the thirty minute ride to the end.  He was and probably still is the best kisser I’ve had, he knew exactly what to do with them soft lips of his, I don’t even remember the view, or much else about the ride but I remember feeling like I was the only one, even though deep down I knew I wasn’t.  Camera phones actually hadn’t come to the market back then, but if I could of taken pictures I would of taken a few of the view of London and one or two of us, just for posterity. Then I would have posted it on some social media site with a bitchy Hash-tag just to mark my territory. I miss my twenties.

After my very successful meeting, I checked my phone and had seen that he called back, I was relieved, but it also annoyingly meant that I had to call him back… again. I dialed his number praying he would pick up. I’m not sure why I was so insistent on speaking with him, I mean, what really could he tell me to justify what he said at the baby dedication or even eighteen months ago before his wedding. Thankfully he picked up, I actually couldn’t face another missed call. He opens up the conversation with, “You’re still getting speeding tickets then?” I knew he was referring to the speed at which I sped off with at the church. I was grateful that he broke the ice but didn’t appreciate the cockiness. Hello Nathaniel “ I said and ignored his question or comment of whatever it was. I hoped he would move on because I was a little embarrassed. He had a quick wit and I missed it and if I’m honest I missed our friendship, but whatever; those thoughts would only fuel the madness. I cut straight to the chase, “why did you say what you said?” He responded with something like, “what last week or the day before my wedding”. This bastard knew that he was wrong for saying what he said on both counts, why do guys do that. “Both” I replied, I could feel my heart beating faster than usual and for some stupid reason I was holding my breath I was so anxious at what his answer would be. I wanted his response to make me feel as though what I had felt for him all those years ago was real and I wasn’t one of his side chicks, did i just say side chick? I mean bit on the side, anyway…that it was as special as he said it was, just that it was real, I mean we were perfect together, it just clicked, everything just clicked. He answered with “ the truth is Nay, I feel bad for how I treated you back then, I asked him if what we had was real, he said‘ you know it was, whether you want to accept it or not, it was real; we were about twenty minutes into the conversation when I asked Nathaniel the question that I’ve wanted to ask since we had broken up.” so why? Why not me… ? I was shocked that I allowed those words to leave my mouth, its true I had been asking myself that question for years now, but at last common sense prevailed. I stopped him before he could say anything, I didn’t want to know, I had spent too much time sizing myself up against her, the truth is he could of fed me with any old line to appease me and I would of accepted it.

My truth is that this shit is for the birds, I’ am not twenty and it doesn’t matter why. The reality is, he didn’t choose me. I made up some excuse to go and ended the conversation somewhat abruptly. I had well and truly opened the door to the past and some cold harsh realities that I was now beginning to accept. he asked if we could meet up at some point in the week for lunch, dinner or something I told him I’ll think about it. It’s Tuesday God knows why I’m still thinking about it.

#NoRegrets? #GotWorkToDo…

The’ X’ factor

You never stop loving someone you really loved, you just learn to live without them.. ADK 2013
You never stop loving someone you really loved, you just learn to live without them..
ADK 2013

What happens to the love when a relationship ends?

I have to question myself, I mean really sit down and ask myself some questions. I’m so pissed off with myself right now because I let him get to me. I am sitting with the truth that after all this time he still is a factor albeit an ‘X’, but its still there, buried beneath years of convincing myself that I am better off without him.  last Saturday I saw him for the first time in eighteen months, he hadn’t changed one bit, Nathaniel was my twenties, he was the love of my life and my best friend, we did and shared everything together which is why it took less than eighteen seconds for the lid to be taken off that box I had stored away at the back of my closet marked “do not even go there” the one that contained all my unresolved feelings and emotions for him. We were at a mutual’s friends baby dedication and I knew he would be there, don’t judge me but I would be lying if I said that I didn’t make the extra effort for the occasion, after all I was Godmother; I had to be looking right, standing up there in front of all those people. I must have done like a hundred squats a day on the run up to the christening coupled with crunches and free weights to get my arms toned. Honestly I was doing it for me, but every wise woman knows that you can’t let your ‘X’ see you looking like you’ve lost your mind. Whether its appropriate or not, you better be ready and looking good, when that time comes.

He was already at the church when I got there his face literally lit up when he saw me, our friends could see it too, one of my girls even shook her head and chuckled to her self as he made a B’ line in my direction.  he still looked as handsome as he did in our twenties, his jet black wavy hair, caramel skin tone that always looked like he had just stepped off a plane from some sunnier climate and his perfect smile, Nathaniel had one perfectly place dimple on his right cheek and a few freckles… oooo he gets to me every time. I use to love this guy with everything, he knows it as well,  which is why I think he felt comfortable to hug me the way he use to, like it was a secret hand shake that only he and I knew about. I’m not talking about one of those church hugs either, the ones where you get the chance to stick your butt out away from their body and lightly pat each other reassuringly on the back, nope; this bastard pulled me into his body with both arms like he had just come back from war and as he squeezed  my  waist and caressed my back, he said “it so good to see you Nay Nay… I mean what the monkeys does he think this is.

Anyway at the end of the service he walked me to my car, I kept asking where his Mrs was, as I was trying desperately to ignore the fact that the chemistry was still there alive and bobbling over in my stomach like butterflies; I stopped speaking to him a year and a half ago when he called me up the day before his wedding to say that he thinks he’s making a mistake. I didn’t even know he was engaged to the girl, so I was shocked on both counts; his girl is another long story that I can’t even get into right now but the long and short of if it is, either she or I was the other women. It is still hard to figure out who was what, because we both knew about each other…  thanks to the wonders of T-mobile. Do you remember the days when you could access your v-mail from any handset as long as you knew the pin, I heard all of the voice-mails she would leave on his phone when his “battery died” or he” accidentally” left it on silent so I wouldn’t hear it ring, and if she had any sense I’m sure she was doing the same thing. to be honest I felt like he was cheating on me with her and it was all her fault. What can I say I was young and naive . but to get a call on the the eve of his wedding day,  that was it for me, He had taken his last liberty and I cussed him off my phone and never looked back so its equally as frustrating that hes acting  like that never happened.

So he walks me to my car and as he shuts my door he say’s I’ve been meaning to call you, I was like “oh yeah”… he says “yeah” so I respond with Why? And before he could get a word out I reminded him he was married, so he responds with “you don’t think I am aware of that” So by this point I’m looking at this guy like he’s crazy… “I’m just pointing it out before you say something you might later regret, to which he responds agitatedly “I just wanted you to know I was right, I did make a mistake…”

I couldn’t even respond, I just sat there in my car, staring at his stupid face, for what felt like five  minutes, it was probably only five to ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity, I couldn’t articulate anything. I just started my engine, looked at him again and drove off.

You know what was more aggravating as I drove off, I couldn’t help thinking that he could still read me like a book. He knew it, got to me that one line hit my heart like a ton of bricks and he knew it.

Nearly one week later…

I’ve spent all morning pacing my office floor, wondering whether I should call him, I had waited all week hoping that my frustration would die down and I would forget about his comment, but I couldn’t, hence the pacing… I wanted to call him and ask him why? Why if he knew it was a mistake did he marry her? Why did he choose her and not me?  Why did he rubbish everything we had together? It was as though me having the answer to those questions would somehow bring closure and it would all make sense, finally I would get closure and really let go of it.  can I be totally honest, a part of me just wanted to hear his voice again… #thisisamess #drama.

New Year Wrong Guy…

Gesnay king

It’s amazing what you realise when you wake up before your alarm clock goes off. it’s the new year and I’m on annual leave so its beyond me why I am up before 6:00am with nowhere to go, I woke up disoriented by the loud reverse warning alarm on what I can only assume was a dustbin truck, so I guess they’ve changed their pick up day from Thursday to Friday, I’m not at all surprised that my local authority failed to inform me of that minor change.

I literally dragged myself out of my bed and walked over to my bay window, one, to confirm it was actually the bin men and two to ensure that the wing mirrors on my fiat 500 were still intact. I spent too much money on my lovely new car, it’s pearlised white too, so “I ain’t got time for any damage” Note to self, ‘bin men now come on Fridays and not Thursdays”.

I wonder what else will change in the New Year? I did notice whilst snooping out of my window, trying to avoid being spotted by the bin men for fear of being labelled as the meddlesome busy body at number 18 who just so happens to be a thirty something singleton, that my neighbours front yard looked exceptionally manicured in comparison to my somewhat neglected flower bed graveyard, even my evergreens were struggling, I must add that on my DIY list of things to do this year, one things for sure, nothing much has changed with me, I am still Gesnay King still a thirty something singleton, still living south of the river… now with one more job added to a DIY list that strangly enough metaphorically resembled a  dating history of  men never to trust or rely on because they never completed the jobs they volunteered to do; I can only assume it was all testosterone crammed attempts to impress me, instead of statements of intent.

 ‘If I wanted something doing I should just do it myself’ my new year resolution. I mean why cant today’s men just stick by their word. “Gesnay I’ll come round on Saturday morning after the gym to put up your blinds babe and I’ll bring you breakfast too. These were the words of the last interested party that I have now decided to cut all communication with; Dean Landen the sales manager at my gym. I should have concluded he wasn’t serious when I met him, I was being charmed into a yearly contract at the gym with a promise to use it at least three times a week, another note to self, ‘set realistic goals.’

A couple weeks later he took my details from my contract sent me one single red rose with a message attached “Miss King, from my records you have not been to the gym in two weeks so your diet must be over, have dinner with me”….  My First thought was how many times has he sent messages like this to other unassuming female members of the gym, then I thought “mmmm… what should I wear on my date.”  We went on a few dates which were surprisingly really nice, and other times we hung out at my flat never his, which hello… big flipping red flag that I completely ignored. then December 30th I woke up really early which I hated to do on a Saturday, showered, tied my freshly straightened hair in a loose bun I decided to wear my slightly overpriced love potion no. 9 beach jumper and my vintage jodhpurs with a little dab of Narcisso Rodriguez all in an effort to look and smell effortlessly fly and waited…

This fool sends me a text at 3:45pm “sorry Ges, had to go into the office, work emergency” Won’t finish until 5:00pm I’ll call you. Humph… It always amuses me that men underestimate the power of female intuition.

Needless to say he wasn’t at work because I checked, he was however on a lovely day out with his one year old and fiancé because… I checked, how… The wonders of Facebook and twitter, he hadn’t realised I’d been following his feeds since I signed up at the gym… I know, I know ‘stalker-ation’but it just so happened that his fiancé must have had her intuitive hat on too, because she decided to mention Dean in her tweet, which read “Late present for me and our baby’s 1st birthday from my fiancé and baby daddy…@BigD #familydayout #justsayin

Note to self. Go online and find a DIY man; my blinds still need to go up, oh and delete that fools number, #keepitmoving #sticktothoseresolutions

gesnay king

Hello Shelf…!

Gesnay King

“I’m on the Bloody Shelf again, me minus one, Solo, yep just me. I know this is no way for me to introduce myself  but to be frank, the last time I jumped off the shelf I thought it would be exactly that, ‘the last time.’  I’m Gesnay King, Single girl, who now welcomes Friday nights in, Supermarket trips on my own, DIY jobs that never quite go right and invitations addressed to ”Me, plus one.”

I hate the Shelf I’m thirty one and I think I can safely say, “My shelf life expired a long time ago”.

Last Friday night for instance I found myself being introduced to two eligible bachelors by my mate at a friend’s birthday celebration. She stood there giving me the “3:00 clock eye” as she waltzed over and struck up a conversation of formalities which somehow involved explaining what I did for a living, without any hesitation she gestured me over to join the awkward charade.

Armed with a full glass of Moscato I introduced myself… I must admit he was actually alright looking; tall, dark, handsome, well groomed, blah blah-blah.

He introduced himself as Warren, A full time musician currently touring with some Pop star I had no interest in remembering. He kept waffling on about which city they’d be performing in next and how he happened to be in London that night but was off again come morning. I lie not to you he looked at me square in the eye paused smiled and then continued talking at both of us, as though we were his groupies. I kept on sipping my glass of Moscato hoping it would kick in and this travesty would fizzle out into nothingness… I’d actually completely checked out of the conversation. I just stood there baffled at why this man was talking with so many hand gestures, just pointing and laughing; opened hand, clasped hand, pointing hand, open hand again, all to an audience of one as though he was practicing his NLP techniques that he learnt on some overpriced online course, I clearly wasn’t interested, so it was my turn to give my mate the “let’s go eye”.

I felt disoriented and repulsed, I did however notice the tanned ring mark on his left hand ‘ring finger,’ where I can only assume a wedding band once resided or better yet, still resides and conveniently comes off when he is on the road; I’d settled for the latter and kept it moving.

The other guy, well let’s not go there, I mean let’s face it, the options at thirty plus are slim pickings. Yes all the good ones have already settled down and are now at least on baby number one.

Who’s left? Workaholics, non-committers, cheaters, and the baggage’d.

I’m pausing have I just put myself in a box? Does this mean that I too am slim pickings? Is the little box that I conveniently put single men in after thirty, sexist, naive and narrow -minded? Am I unable to self-reflect?  Am I too, one or all of the above?

My best mate told me once that most of us are given these titles, names or labels by others that we are completely oblivious to; labels that in some way or the other describe a major flaw in our character, personality or appearance. I couldn’t help but wonder what mine was, desperado, Eat Love Pray, Bachelorette for life or just on the shelf again?  One thing I’am sure of is that, I’m on the firing line and the committed settled and married are out ready with their label guns… to start tagging.

Well here’s to the bloody shelf and a Journey to come, bottoms up ladies!