If Only I’d Been Stronger

You sit here in your best suit and tie, standing out like ‘dogs' balls’ because few people wear ties these days. Well, people your age, anyway.

You don’t even know why you are here. You weren’t invited, and you had only met her several times. No, that's not true. Why do you keep lying to yourself?

Does it somehow help to appease your conscience? But you have nothing to feel bad about. Exactly the opposite.

That's the main reason why you are here, isn’t it?

You don’t really want to be here, and heaven forbid that anyone of note should recognise you. That is why you have sat yourself down in the very back row, right on the side. At least you have a quick exit when this palaver is over. What are you going to do then?

You know damn well what you are going to do: drown your sorrows. And why not? She was an absolute bitch to you. But you still feel the need to come here and pay your respects, even though she was, and still is, a bitch. She is nothing like her mother. Her mother would be turning in her grave if she knew what she was lying about and what she had done to you.

You can pretend all you like, but you can’t forget what she did. It wasn’t just that she convinced you to move in with her so she could feed off your wages and spend more money on herself. Who does that?

Move into a house that is shared with her husband and her ex-boyfriend? You do, because you were smitten by love, smitten by her body, and the fact that she was sexy. You poor bastard. You didn’t see it coming, did you?

Yes, it worked for a while. You were in relationship bliss. Didn’t the bullet her other ex-boyfriend sent you tell you this wasn't going to end well? What was his name? She had so many ex-boyfriends. Serge, that's right, Serge, the ex-military SAS soldier, or so he said.

He sent you the bullet, then sent you a map of your college room and where certain things were. How the hell did he get that if he hadn’t been in your room? Maybe it was her, and it was all part of her elaborate plan. Who knows? You really shouldn’t be here. It's not your business.

She sucked you in right in. Like a lamb to slaughter. You spent nights doing her lab work while she acted like she needed help. What about the nights you spent helping her with research for her essays? Supposedly so that she could go to basketball. Who knows where she went? You were such a klutz, and so trusting you didn’t even bother to check.

Your time spent proofreading and critiquing her thesis so she could do well. She ended up getting Honours, and you ended up falling behind in your own work.

What for? You have to ask yourself.

After all that, what the hell are you doing here?

Just get up and leave. You have done your duty. Go before she sees you. You know it will be an ugly scene, and do you really need that after all the ridicule she has put you through.

Let’s not forget the grand whammy!

She finishes her thesis, and you and your supposed best friend and she go off on a camping trip for a week. Day one and two were OK; things seemed all good until the second night.

She announces that she is not going to sleep with you in the tent anymore. No, she is going to sleep in the van with your best friend!

Despite searching for an answer, which you thoroughly deserved, you didn’t get one. You knew the answer. She had finished with you. You did her work for her, paid her bills, and entertained her when and if she wanted. Now she's done with you. On to the next one.

So, for the next five days of the trip, you are left with the third wheel. Like a shag on a rock, counting down the hours until this godforsaken trip comes to an end. The nights you sat up watching the van rock back and forth, knowing full well what they were up to.

Then, when you get home, she proudly announces the relationship isn't working, so it's best you leave. Leave. Where to?

Not my problem, she says, and that's it.

So, now here you are. Sitting in the church at her mother’s funeral. It all feels meaningless. Deep down, you just want to storm up the aisle and confront her. Hardly an appropriate act for a church. Maybe it is best you just leave.

Till next time,

Calvin

Entry in the "You Are Here" challenge: