(Situationships)

So my relationship status reads complicated. Not that anybody in the human race cares, but as soon as I introduce myself as such, they label me a pathological liar, someone who is not comfortable being single or in a relationship, or someone merely ashamed by his status quo. True. It’s more of a situationship really. My immediate ex wants me back, I wonder why, I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe it’s because I’m easy to control and toy around with, but that’s only because I let her, just in case I needed a reason to get away from her. And guess what, voila!! It worked. In addition to her being a controlling freak I had every other reason to leave her, starting with her bad breath, the noise from her stilettoes whenever she walked down the hallway, and the way her fart acted like a mosquito repellent. See, I had all the reasons.

My other ex before this one, who left me for a rich guy, when I least expected her to, clouds my judgement, I never had enough of her. I seem to want her back, now that I upgraded to owning a Honda CBR 600F motorbike, which actually belongs to a distant Friend who is out of town, not that I can compete with her rich guy who owns a 32 inch Hisense TV screen, and a Sony home theater, who lives in a one bedroom apartment, while I still count the crevices in the walls of my bedsitter. It’s kind of a long shot, but worth a try, I bet you’d agree. I do not want her for the sex or for her company, but the second she’ll make the mistake of coming back to me, I’ll jam through her, and the least worst scenario would be teaching her a lesson that you don’t just leave someone like that, it’s so inhumane. On second thought, I don’t have to try hard, I simply need to make her cheat on her rich guy with me, just one time, then make her pregnant, then ask her to go back to her rich guy. What do you think??

Then there’s my crush. She’s pregnant. Can you believe that? Let me not speak much about her, I don’t want to risk catching feelings, it would be unhealthy for you. But on a second note, fuck it, let me just sweat it out and call it what it is. So after waiting for this bitch for…. No wait… That’s an understatement, after waiting for this whore… Hold on… Did I say it right? What’s the right word really? Let’s try this again. After waiting for this cromagnon, Rhodesian, Homo Habillis of a woman for three good years, she finally showed at my doorstep with a baby bump, and the worst of it all, a suitcase. It’s so sickening, when I recall past the three years, when I had to drop signs that she was my crush and she should consider my resume for a start. But oh no, she was busy with the smoke pipe that spewed babies in her womb, and now she wants to move in with me. Hell No. Having said that, let’s take few breaths, it’s sweaty over here. Up to this point, it should be noted that my situationship status is complicated.

Lastly there’s my girlfriend. A super fine woman. Smart brains and sexy pants. She makes me see, breathe, live and feel. My girlfriend and I would spend the most of our lazy weekend arguing about who will shower or not. We even toss a coin for it, tail or head. You lose, you hit the shower and take a cold bath.Sometimes, we open up our armpits to check if they have a concentrated sweaty smell. We even bought a litmus paper to test the acidity in our armpits, the one with the highest acidic value hits the shower. After doing all that, it’s me who often lose the game, but my girlfriend would be kind enough to accompany me to the shower. I know that she loves me because we shower for an hour, and still we pay water bills together.

I know that my baby loves me, because whenever I leave the house, she slides a packet of condom inside my jacket, hugs me, then whispers, “protect our love..”. Even after hoeing around, she would stand arms folded on the door step waiting for me, she wouldn’t smile but stare blankly at me with dovish eyes asking me, “why do you hurt me?”. And I’d take out my jacket, place it on the flower bed, walk towards her with mouth mumbling inaudibly trying to explain the situation, a tear would fall from her eye at the same second she’ll hit my left jaw with a slap, unbelievably, she’ll hit the right one too, and almost I’d lose balance. At this point if you asked me what my relationship is, I’d say that I’m in love, and I’ve always been since the day I met the tough woman who took me with all my shits and never walked out, instead stayed with me and said, “we’re each other’s imperfection to perfect”.

So if you ask me what my relationship status is, I no longer tell you that I’m complicated, neither am I dating, for dating is bound to be break. I’d tell you that I’m in love. It sounds silly but it’s the way that I feel in love. Over time I’ve learned to respect her.

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