My mind went into an overdrive mode. My heart went into stone-mode. "Do not be eaten by the smooth words of a man. Do not fall in love again. Do not be a slave to your emotions", became my mantra for quite sometime. I was back. But not with my heart ready to be shattered. But I was back, with vengeance in mind.
I made quite a few appearence at the beer garden and at the club. Played my cards well. Not giving in to both despite them knowing that I was callously playing the field. Tried as they can, it was becoming clearer to me, it was more like a competition on whose hands get into my pants first. Experience taught me so.
Mr Musician was rather posessive with me, making it known that he "own" me despite my tries to potray otherwise. A night came where I was smashed. Pretty smashed with all the complimentary booze that came my way. Mr Musician played the good samaritan and had a place to stay till I could clear my head. It was his music studio and what a feature! Surprise!! He is actually a local music composer, song writer and whatnot. Plastered across the studio walls were articles after articles of his achievements. If I was a "kid", I would have certainly gotten butt naked and presented myself to him. But all I did was, locked myself in the recording room, text him with an instruction to wake me up 2 hours later and dozed off to hangover land. Booooring.... He must have said. He must have thought he was going to get lucky that night. Boy! Were you so wrong.
Couple of times he offered tea, food and a massage even. To great lengths did this mature man offered for my convenience but all were turned down. I was not a hooker nor a girl that he dated and at any chance presented, will get jiggy with him. So when all else fails, when I woke up from my slumber, I saw him rearranging music pieces.
Cleaned my face and packed my bag, took my heels and said my goodbye. He looked disappointed that I didn't want to stay a bit longer. I hurried myself before I changed my mind, got into a cab and was safely home half an hour later.
Few days later, he invited me again to watch him play and this time round, he had a surprise for me. Surprise? Hmm.. I came by to the beer garden alone and after his first set, as I wanted to make my move, he held my hand and led me to his brand new baby. A car. So Mr Musician must have thought I was materialistic. Too bad darling, whatever you have, my Dad could have provided better. He passed me a CD and with innocent eyes told me to listen to the songs. He "dedicated" the last number on the CD to me. Oh, how sweet!
I left and chucked the CD to the bottom pit of my bag. But when I was in the comfort of my room, I gave it a chance to serenade me. Touched, yes! The song is beautiful. Slow and mesmerising. Being sceptical of all these I took the CD cover, scanned through it and very true! He is the songwriter of the music pieces. Very impressive! Wait.. I saw something.. His "thank-you roll".. He mentioned a "thank you Bee.. for your support all this while.." Something is wrong here. I stopped the CD and chucked it back to the case and "bury" it elsewhere. I feel rejuvenated.
Come a few more times I "entertained" Mr Musician with his "clingy" acts and of luck, he actually introduced me to one of his good buddies from KL. This buddy later became my great buddy and being gay, we shared many girly issues. I worked on my water works on Mr Gay, citing relationship problems did Mr Gay actually shook me hard with the truth.
Mr Musician is married with 3 young boys! Woaah!! Now this sounds fun. Mr Musician, the lonely musician with obsession actually has got a ring on his 4th finger that he never fails to remove when he is with me. I smacked myself to reality, played his game and marched down to the beer garden I did.
You know what embarassment do to guys, they get all defensive and for one to puncture their ego, they would rather end up like ostrich and hide their brainless heads into the Earth. But no, I didn't give him a chance to do that. I came, I screamed at him and went minimally berserk and sent him scrambling to save any shred of humility he had of himself. Grabbed my arms he did and swinged me over to the car. I splattered whatever vulgarities I had in my head while he kept apologising profusely. Like a kid getting caught for stealing candies, that was his exact state.
I gave him an ultimatum - Do not look for me ever again, do not talk to me again and do not even dare to breathe a word that he actually know me. I was disgusted that a man who is a husband, a father at that, can actually bring his self-worth so low. OR, I will personally call on his wife and blurt out his infidelity, despite not having any sexual intercourse with him. A man like him should be working to support his wife and kids at home. To be friends is fine, but for all the actions he did, he must have thought he is single.
That sent the man crying. Citing marital problems, loneliness and a need to bond with another. Which to me is, not my problem even from the start. I told him to behave like a man, take up the responsibility and face the problem in the eye instead of gallivanting out in town. To slap much more sense into him, I thanked him for the Guess Jeans, the treats, the heels and I took my leave.
"I had fun with you and I hoped you had fun too." With that, I left.
As years passed and I reflected on my behaviour. What a bitch I was. I was a bitch, given the circumstances. While Mr Musician just seem to be a part of the increasing statistic of infidelity spouse.
Then I felt sorry for him. For losing out on a happy marriage and also for losing out on being a real dad. An honest one too. If he was really heading for Splitsville with Mrs Musician, to me, he should have at least be honest of the situation and certainly deal with his marriage first. What does that say of such mens? Responsible? I figure not.
Nowadays that I see him again, I just shook my head in disgust as I recalled my past. I shove this part of my history to the deepest pit of my memory as I remember all those time I was standing on my both feet, thinking that this is the path of life. But if this is the path of life, why do I sit by the window at home by the moonlight, still hoping for that Knight in the Shining Armour to come and sweep me off my feet and bring me to HappyVille? I realise, this is just not me, and I certainly do not deserve all these. But I took it in my stride still and took it as an experience in life that I will never want to go through again. Ever.
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