Despite the fact that Karl had suggested – and I had agreed – that we meet at his house, an option which required close to zero sartorial effort, I am sure you won’t be surprised that I spend the greater part of the following day in the day spa, full-body sea-weed-wraps to make sure my skin' smooth, prepping myself with the kind of care and attention I would ordinarily reserve for a black-tie event.
‘You shouldn’t go,’ I remember Daniel said, ‘but I know that it doesn’t matter what I say. You’re going to meet up with him and you’ll almost certainly offer him one more chance to break your heart while you’re at it.’
I arrived at Karl’s apartment at eight o’clock on the dot. I was wearing all black that show my masculine body (I was working on it). I had even received a compliment from the taxi driver who dropped me off outside Karl apartment.
Karl was wearing pair of ratty old jeans and sweetshirt.
‘Oh.’ he said, when he saw me and clocked that I had come empty-handed. ‘I was rather hoping you might have pick up a bottle of champagne from the bottle shop on your way over. I haven’t got any in the flat.’
Was that it? Eight months since we had last seen each other. No big hug, No comment on how great I looked. Not even a ‘So good to see you.’
‘Wait there.’ Karl said. He nipped back into the house to pick up a jacket. ‘We’ve got to have something to drink.’
So we walked to the bottle shop down the road
‘I am glad you could come over tonight,’ he said as we walked.’
‘Oh,’ I said. And there was me thinking that his cooking for me was supposed to imply that he wanted to make an effort.
‘How have you been?’ he asked
‘I’ve been fine,’ I said
‘You look well,’ he commented. At last he had noticed
I felt small ripple of pride. I had obviously wrong-footed him with my new well-groomed self. The fact that ninety-nine days out of hundred, I didn’t look anything like this at all was not relevant. I had wanted Karl to think that I had raised my game since he chucked me and I allowed myself to think that he believed I had.
We were at the bottle shop. He held the door open for me.
‘Usual?’ he said
‘OK’
Our usual was bottle of Jacob Creek Shiraz, from South Australia that went fantastically well with takeaway anything. That wine was cheap as chips but I took it as a good sign that he asked me if I wanted our ‘usual’ rather than push out the boat with something flashy and more expensive. It seemed nostalgic and that suggested to me that he had been remembering me with fondness, rather than as the mad cow he had threatened with legal action.
‘Shall we go halves?’ I asked, as he placed three bottles on the counter.
‘NO’ he said. ‘Don’t be silly. I’ll pay.’
Sure, the wine was only USD5.90 a bottle, but I took that as a good sign too. He was treating me.
Back at his place, we order takeaway from the local Indian, though he didn’t order his usual.
‘Watching my weight,’ he said, patting his stomach.
He was a little paunchier than I remember. He had always been paranoid about getting ‘man boobs’. I must have spent a good five hours of my life reassuring Karl that he didn’t have tits. Never would have. And since the break-up, I had spend a good deal more time fantasizing that when I saw him again, I would tell him that I had been lying. He had a better cleavage than Eva Herzigova. But when he gave me the opportunity to tell him what a fat, middle-aged knacker he had become, I just told him, ‘You don’t need to worry about your weight. You looking great shape.’
How odd that I had spent the last eight months having argument with this man in my head and now we were having such a bland and pleasant conversation. I had waited for so long for the opportunity to tell him what arsehole he had been and now I was listening sympathetically as he told me about some new bloke at work who seemed determined to kill Karl’s pet projects.
Meanwhile the first bottle of wine slowly disappeared. And then the second. And a little bit of a third.
By this points we were sitting side by side on the sofa. Karl had positioned himself there as we ate Indian takeaway on his glass coffee table and come back to sit beside me again after clearing the leftover away. Slowly we had moved closer and closer together so that from time to time our knees touched before one of us noticed and moved to preserve a physical gap. Now Karl reached out and gathered my short hair in his hand, as thoughts he was adjusting my side. I pushed his hand away.
‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I just had the urge to touch it. Your new hair looks great. short and neat.'
‘Thanks.’ I said, managing to sit on the urge to say, ‘I just had a hair done.’
He looked deep into my eyes. I began to feel hot. In that moment I was every bit as nervous as I had been the very first time Karl and I went on a date, after I had stopped worrying what my friends would think if I dated an accountant and I started simply wanting him to kiss me. He moved a little closer.
‘You shouldn’t go,’ I remember Daniel said, ‘but I know that it doesn’t matter what I say. You’re going to meet up with him and you’ll almost certainly offer him one more chance to break your heart while you’re at it.’
I arrived at Karl’s apartment at eight o’clock on the dot. I was wearing all black that show my masculine body (I was working on it). I had even received a compliment from the taxi driver who dropped me off outside Karl apartment.
Karl was wearing pair of ratty old jeans and sweetshirt.
‘Oh.’ he said, when he saw me and clocked that I had come empty-handed. ‘I was rather hoping you might have pick up a bottle of champagne from the bottle shop on your way over. I haven’t got any in the flat.’
Was that it? Eight months since we had last seen each other. No big hug, No comment on how great I looked. Not even a ‘So good to see you.’
‘Wait there.’ Karl said. He nipped back into the house to pick up a jacket. ‘We’ve got to have something to drink.’
So we walked to the bottle shop down the road
‘I am glad you could come over tonight,’ he said as we walked.’
‘Oh,’ I said. And there was me thinking that his cooking for me was supposed to imply that he wanted to make an effort.
‘How have you been?’ he asked
‘I’ve been fine,’ I said
‘You look well,’ he commented. At last he had noticed
I felt small ripple of pride. I had obviously wrong-footed him with my new well-groomed self. The fact that ninety-nine days out of hundred, I didn’t look anything like this at all was not relevant. I had wanted Karl to think that I had raised my game since he chucked me and I allowed myself to think that he believed I had.
We were at the bottle shop. He held the door open for me.
‘Usual?’ he said
‘OK’
Our usual was bottle of Jacob Creek Shiraz, from South Australia that went fantastically well with takeaway anything. That wine was cheap as chips but I took it as a good sign that he asked me if I wanted our ‘usual’ rather than push out the boat with something flashy and more expensive. It seemed nostalgic and that suggested to me that he had been remembering me with fondness, rather than as the mad cow he had threatened with legal action.
‘Shall we go halves?’ I asked, as he placed three bottles on the counter.
‘NO’ he said. ‘Don’t be silly. I’ll pay.’
Sure, the wine was only USD5.90 a bottle, but I took that as a good sign too. He was treating me.
Back at his place, we order takeaway from the local Indian, though he didn’t order his usual.
‘Watching my weight,’ he said, patting his stomach.
He was a little paunchier than I remember. He had always been paranoid about getting ‘man boobs’. I must have spent a good five hours of my life reassuring Karl that he didn’t have tits. Never would have. And since the break-up, I had spend a good deal more time fantasizing that when I saw him again, I would tell him that I had been lying. He had a better cleavage than Eva Herzigova. But when he gave me the opportunity to tell him what a fat, middle-aged knacker he had become, I just told him, ‘You don’t need to worry about your weight. You looking great shape.’
How odd that I had spent the last eight months having argument with this man in my head and now we were having such a bland and pleasant conversation. I had waited for so long for the opportunity to tell him what arsehole he had been and now I was listening sympathetically as he told me about some new bloke at work who seemed determined to kill Karl’s pet projects.
Meanwhile the first bottle of wine slowly disappeared. And then the second. And a little bit of a third.
By this points we were sitting side by side on the sofa. Karl had positioned himself there as we ate Indian takeaway on his glass coffee table and come back to sit beside me again after clearing the leftover away. Slowly we had moved closer and closer together so that from time to time our knees touched before one of us noticed and moved to preserve a physical gap. Now Karl reached out and gathered my short hair in his hand, as thoughts he was adjusting my side. I pushed his hand away.
‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I just had the urge to touch it. Your new hair looks great. short and neat.'
‘Thanks.’ I said, managing to sit on the urge to say, ‘I just had a hair done.’
He looked deep into my eyes. I began to feel hot. In that moment I was every bit as nervous as I had been the very first time Karl and I went on a date, after I had stopped worrying what my friends would think if I dated an accountant and I started simply wanting him to kiss me. He moved a little closer.
Was he going to kiss me now?
The sex, too, was exactly as it has always been. We whipped through our repertoire with the efficiency that comes of years of practice. He smelled the same. He felt the same. He said the same things at the same moments. Everything was as it had been. As it should be.
I was elated.
Well, perhaps not quite so elated as I had expected to be, if I was entirely honest…
The sex, too, was exactly as it has always been. We whipped through our repertoire with the efficiency that comes of years of practice. He smelled the same. He felt the same. He said the same things at the same moments. Everything was as it had been. As it should be.
I was elated.
Well, perhaps not quite so elated as I had expected to be, if I was entirely honest…
There were even moments when I felt as thought I was outside my body, watching the action on the bed with a dispassionate and underwhelmed eye. I got nowhere near having an orgasm
‘That was great,’ Karl said, as we relaxed back on to the pillows.
‘Yes,’ I said. It wouldn’t been polite to disagree, but I was left feeling just a little unsatisfied. As I always had been, now I thought about it
Karl was taking a long time in the bathroom. I could hear the tap running. But over that…Was he talking to someone? I crossed over to the bathroom door on the pretence of looking for my underwear, which I’d discarded in that direction. I tuned into Karl’s voice over the sound of running water.
‘Yeah, yeah.’ He said. ‘I miss you too. And of course I’ll come and pick you up at the airport. I can’t wait to see you. I love you.’
Airport? I love you? He was talking to his boyfriend of course.
‘That was great,’ Karl said, as we relaxed back on to the pillows.
‘Yes,’ I said. It wouldn’t been polite to disagree, but I was left feeling just a little unsatisfied. As I always had been, now I thought about it
Karl was taking a long time in the bathroom. I could hear the tap running. But over that…Was he talking to someone? I crossed over to the bathroom door on the pretence of looking for my underwear, which I’d discarded in that direction. I tuned into Karl’s voice over the sound of running water.
‘Yeah, yeah.’ He said. ‘I miss you too. And of course I’ll come and pick you up at the airport. I can’t wait to see you. I love you.’
Airport? I love you? He was talking to his boyfriend of course.
When Karl ended his call. I sprinted backcross the room and arranged myself on the bed exactly as I had been when he went to ’clean himself’. I heard him tweak the tap so that it wasn’t flowing quite so quickly now that he didn’t need tocober the sound of his conversation any more.
‘That’s a great view,’ ha said, regarding me naked against the pillows. I noticed he was still holding his blackberry. He waved it at me.
‘That’s a great view,’ ha said, regarding me naked against the pillows. I noticed he was still holding his blackberry. He waved it at me.
'I am a slave to this thing,’ he said. ‘Can you believe someone from office just called to ask me if I can be at a meeting at seven tomorrow morning?’
I couldn’t believe it. Did Karl say ‘I love you’ to all his colleagues?
I should have just left, but instead I lay there, with his arm across my stomach, berating myself for me in such an idiot. could I have been so naïve to think that Karl Walder wanted me back?
After a while, with Karl deep in his dream, my arm stared to feel very heavy on him. I lifted is off my stomach and out of the way, carefully but not that carefully. Part of me wanted to wake him. But Karl was not disturbed at all. He remained asleep on his front. The only sign that he was alive was the occasional snore. Karl was one of very few people who snored while sleeping on his front as well as his back.
I hate him in that moment. Sure, I had said that I hated him a thousand times since he dumped me for that bloody young boy, but I had never truly felt the proper weight of the emotion before. Whatever anger I felt for him prior to that night would always have dissolved at that sight of his smile. Now I knew I was experiencing something much stronger, something that demanded revenge.
I had to take action. But what could I do?
I pulled my mobile out, and I took his picture. I’ll sent the picture to his boyfriend and tell him who was sharing his boyfriend while he was away. Likewise, simply taking a photo of Karl’s naked buttocks was too easy, and it would have the added disadvantage of alerting my friends to the fact that I had gone against all advice and ended up in bed with the worthless swine.
I couldn’t believe it. Did Karl say ‘I love you’ to all his colleagues?
I should have just left, but instead I lay there, with his arm across my stomach, berating myself for me in such an idiot. could I have been so naïve to think that Karl Walder wanted me back?
After a while, with Karl deep in his dream, my arm stared to feel very heavy on him. I lifted is off my stomach and out of the way, carefully but not that carefully. Part of me wanted to wake him. But Karl was not disturbed at all. He remained asleep on his front. The only sign that he was alive was the occasional snore. Karl was one of very few people who snored while sleeping on his front as well as his back.
I hate him in that moment. Sure, I had said that I hated him a thousand times since he dumped me for that bloody young boy, but I had never truly felt the proper weight of the emotion before. Whatever anger I felt for him prior to that night would always have dissolved at that sight of his smile. Now I knew I was experiencing something much stronger, something that demanded revenge.
I had to take action. But what could I do?
I pulled my mobile out, and I took his picture. I’ll sent the picture to his boyfriend and tell him who was sharing his boyfriend while he was away. Likewise, simply taking a photo of Karl’s naked buttocks was too easy, and it would have the added disadvantage of alerting my friends to the fact that I had gone against all advice and ended up in bed with the worthless swine.
The last thing I wanted was a lecture from Daniel to add to the intense feelings of anger I already had for myself. I had been taken in by Karl. Again. No one could have been angrier with me than I was.
Sitting at my kitchen table, with my hand wrapped around a big mug of coffee and life slowly returning to my frozen fingers. I thought back over the previous evening. I replayed the moments when Karl put his hand in my side hair and, later, the moments when he kissed me. I remember when he bagging me to be gentle when I go in-side him and screaming when I pushed a little faster. At the time I had interpreted his expression as sweet, but now I realized that it had been smug. He was so certain that he had me again.
Was it possible that I had gone off Karl physically?
Sitting at my kitchen table, with my hand wrapped around a big mug of coffee and life slowly returning to my frozen fingers. I thought back over the previous evening. I replayed the moments when Karl put his hand in my side hair and, later, the moments when he kissed me. I remember when he bagging me to be gentle when I go in-side him and screaming when I pushed a little faster. At the time I had interpreted his expression as sweet, but now I realized that it had been smug. He was so certain that he had me again.
Was it possible that I had gone off Karl physically?
If anyone had asked me the day before with whom I had had the best sex of my life. I would have had to say that it was Karl. That morning, however, I was beginning to reconsider Oliver. Maybe, with a bit of practice, he could have turned into fantastic lover.
Certainly, he wouldn’t have had to pause halfway through he was getting a stitch.
Karl Walder was not my Mr. Right. That was all there was to it. It wasn’t my fault. And even if he had cheated on me, the fact that we weren’t actually destined to be with each other wasn’t really his fault either. It was just the way things had worked out.. I’d been sad, I’d been angry, I’d been mad as a box of frogs, and now, I was ready to be happy again, and let Karl go from my life entirely..
Karl Walder was not my Mr. Right. That was all there was to it. It wasn’t my fault. And even if he had cheated on me, the fact that we weren’t actually destined to be with each other wasn’t really his fault either. It was just the way things had worked out.. I’d been sad, I’d been angry, I’d been mad as a box of frogs, and now, I was ready to be happy again, and let Karl go from my life entirely..
Till then, goodbye to all wanker, and life's great...
No comments:
Post a Comment