I think it’s just paranoia, but it still sucks.
But maybe it’s because I am finally really happy, almost boringly so, and not used to this kind of feeling.
Actually I’m used to total chaos. I mean at school things were relatively straightforward. I had more time on my hands to get bored with and did kind of cool things with it, like glue a bunch of beads together and then throw it out the window.
And when I met a boy I worked out strenuously every day seven days a week until my body was perfect. But he kept going back to this other girl so I kept at it like a…well a teenager.
But then he went back to her anyway.
Then time was spent on writing AWFUL self loathing teenage poetry to the croon of Radiohead’s Bulletproof.
And then writing TERRIBLE self pitying songs in a dark room with my guitar.
My sister once asked me if I wanted to be Kurt Cobain.
I said no I want to marry him, duh.
She said he has been dead since 1994.
After waking up from my faint, I explained to her that Kurt Cobain is my DESTINY!
Nope, sorry sis. He’s definitely dead.
Shotgun head dead.
After doing the necessary research to moot this preposterous notion I had to do an hour of extreme cardio…because it was true.
I suddenly realized I've been praying every night for God to give me a dead man as a groom and here I was mourning the death of the most beautiful and romantic future relationship.
But at least I knew he went to heaven, I mean with that face and voice he could go anywhere.
Wait a minute… no, no I think the face and the voice and the minor incident where he accidentally killed himself might have caused him to go to hell.
What does the bible say? THINK THINK!
Oh yes, I think it said something about some guy that went to hell begging for just one drop of water on his tongue but then just a little bit later God yanked him out and took him somewhere else. Ah yes, it was Lazarus.
Well I was saddened by the thought that my Kurt might be in such torment so I went to my sister and asked her if she thinks we can pray for someone after they have died?
She said knock yourself out.
So I did. For about a month, I think.
So hopefully Kurt is in a Nirvana of sorts now, probably playing a harp instead of the guitar but man I bet he is ROCKING that harp!
About ten years after the tragic loss of my future rock star husband I was dancing in my favourite club called Zeplins. My heart had recently been shattered by my first true love and I was rappelling off the wild side of the cliff’s edge, if you know what I mean.
So there I was doing my thing, funneling straw rum, bouncing from guy to guy trying to get some attention (don’t judge me, my self esteem was slightly compromised by being dumped by someone that said we were meant to be together forever even in the afterlife, that God said this to him (Really? Did He have a very deep voice? Because it could have been the janitor).
I was about halfway through my tenth quadruple gin and tonic when I saw him.
It was Kurt Cobain. But less dead. And younger.
I stared at him for as long as possible without people noticing the sad, weird little 6 staring at the magnificent, can-get-any-girl-he-wants 10.
It was about a week later that a friend of mine said she saw a cute guy but felt too shy to go chat him up and when she pointed at “Kurt” my heart sank.
He would go for her. She had long legs, clear skin and sky blue eyes.
She was an 8.
I realized that my chance to talk to him was fading rapidly so I volunteered to go chat him up for her. Well at least get him to come over.
So I bounced over to him on a 150% flirtation velocity power.
I said dumb things, he didn't say much, there was a roaring in my ears and my blood was the raging rapids in my arteries.
Somewhere in the conversation which was very short, because I kept inhaling and forgetting to exhale and worried about exploding disgustingly in front of him, he came back to meet my friend.
They dated for 3 effing years.
Three years of pure torture.
They came over to house parties, braai’s, movie nights, everything! I couldn't stand seeing him so often because it fanned my crush and I loved my friend so I knew I had to get it together and keep it together.
But it was a real challenge.
I couldn't make eye contact with him for fear of starting a conversation…about how beautiful he is.
I couldn't smile at him for fear of him smiling back, in which case I would be blasted into a fantasy world in my head where he is mine, which I couldn't do because that would be wrong. So I avoided the smile.
I also couldn't be with him in the same room without lots of other people there which was sometimes very difficult. As groups move, some people move as a bundle and some move in their own personal space, usually after waiting for the throng to get through the doorway first. “Kurt” and I obviously had that same condition because we were always the last two to get out of the room.
Now this might seem stupid but even a second with him next to me and the others trailing down the hallway was temptation enough for me to grab him by his shirt and scream I LOVE YOU PLEASE MARRY ME into his face.
But friendship came first for me in those silly days, so I worked hard to delete my feelings.
Eventually when they broke up he disappeared and I thought I would never see him again.
But about 5 years after that, out of literally thousands of people, I ran into him and his new girlfriend who I barely saw (except for the fact that she was skinny) because I was agonizing over the insane cruelty of life.
Here I am running into this man, looking hideous.
I was going through an identity crisis, you see, I had cut my hair super short, dyed it bright red and decided to pick up like a 1000 kg’s as an afterthought.
He seemed pleased enough to see me again but not exactly falling over his feet. If I was a 6 before, I was a 4 now.
We chatted a bit and then said goodnight and split up again.
I thought I was never going to see him again.
But about 2 years after that I ran into an old friend, from the Zeplins days, who invited me to his birthday party, and BOOM!
There the man stood in his friend’s living room looking leg bucklingly beautiful as always.
While I was staring at him, a very skinny girl came from the right and said “Elmien!”
And I said: “Do we know each other?”
And she said: “yes silly, we met at that big party about two months ago, when my boyfriend didn't even introduce me” (some resentment in voice).
Oh, it beautiful man’s girlfriend.
Ever heard that song by Avril?
Hey hey, you you I don’t like your girlfriend, no way no way think you need a new one, she’s like so whatever, I can do so much better.
I am not proud of how I behaved that night. I was recently divorced and had nothing left to lose, so I went in firing on all cylinders and flirted shamelessly with him.
“Hey nice to see you again, such a pity you have a girlfriend, we could have been making out in my car right now”, I must have been high off my rocker.
I even tricked him into having our picture taken, just the two of us. Forced him to put his arm around me and then bit him on his armpit. He barely blinked an eye.
So I shrugged my shoulders and accepted the fact that this 10 will never be interested in a 7 like me
(by then I was thin as a rake, my blonde locks were back and I had had breast augmentation surgery, thus the upgrade).
But for some reason his girlfriend wanted to be friends with me and after a while, I started liking her too. So once again it was the situation where a friend is dating my “Kurt” and I end up dodging eye contact, smiles and alone time in rooms/cars/churches/whatever once more.
When they broke up I was devastated. The two of them had become my best friends, now everything would change. I knew I could never be friends with him because of the fact that my sporadic urges to overpower him might get in the way.
I thought I'd never see him again.
A while after the grieving period had subsided; I was once again, at a friend’s birthday party, sitting at the bar feeling hung-over already and bored with the company, I received a text message from The Man. I froze. Did they get back together? Just read it you piss ant!
“Hey how are you doing?”
“Bored at a birthday party, Brooklyn Rhapsodies suck. How are you doing?”
“Visiting my parents in Centurion.”
“Cool”
Long pause.
“Wanna come over to Rhapsodies in Brooklyn?”
I clenched my jaw and swore inside my mouth like a ventriloquist. Great, he’s going to say no and then I will have one more devastating rejection on my bedpost.
“I’ll be right there”
Whaaaaat?
I waited a little while for the waves of shock and excitement to pass when I got another message and was convinced it was him canceling, but it wasn’t, and as I waited a little while for the shock and starting pains of disappointment to pass, I saw Kurt Cobain walking up the stairs to where I was sitting.
We moved in together after six months, have been living together now for one and a half year. We are the doting parents of three cats and one dog.
We are best friends who fell in love.
Which is why I worry about the future at night.
Please God, don't let either of us die before we can spend the rest of our lives together.
sweet
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