Some friends say they understand and that they will not judge me. Others say I need help and how could I possibly keep falling back into the same rabbit’s hole? I am his big catnip toy and he is mine. He is my drug of choice and he claims that I am his. I know it is all a game and the odds are that he utters the same exact words to a multitude of women, but they are the words I long for. These questionable words could be spoken by any other man, but when they come from him, I dare to believe them. I want to believe his lies as they swirl and dance around me. Like a spider’s web, I am trapped and to struggle would only increase my captor’s grip. Instead, I choose to be still and let his words trickle down my spine. Simultaneously, they paralyze my good senses and take me to heights I have never known with another. The heart wants what it wants, no matter how perilous, no matter how cruel. I want to dance with Michael’s words and so I do.
This dance began fourteen years ago and even though I am completely aware of its treacherous nature, to see his name pop up on my computer or phone screen thrills me to no end. No, he was not my greatest lover so that is not the power he holds over me. More so, it is the game we play of cat and mouse, the playful banter and the possibility, though slim, that one day he will come to his senses and allow himself the luxury of being loved and adored by the only woman who can truly do so…me. Or, so I choose to believe. Ah yes, the lies we choose to live with, like a romantic Victorian tale of true love, can it possibly exist?
I see countless stories posted on Facebook of successful long term relationships. I’ve even had the privilege of personally witnessing a few firsthand, but this is a storyline my life’s script does not contain. I have only experienced passing flings, which may be momentarily gratifying, but leave me feeling more empty than before. I have experienced two semi-lasting relationships that gave me a moderate level of fulfilment, but once the truth of their intentions were revealed to me, not only was I left empty once more, but I was scarred beyond belief. They have left me not even willing to conceive for a second that my future scripts should dare to approach such a notion ever again.
On second thought…
I love tiki stuffs! My fascination with MCM everything includes tiki stuffs. I have in my possession a number of items one would find if they went to their favorite tiki bar. What!? You say you don’t have a favorite tiki bar!? Oh bother, well when you’re in my area I will make some recommendations. Among my bowl sized drinking vessels and Swizzle Sticks are two wooden tiki idols, one man and one woman. I have had them don my office, in numerous locations and in a variety of positions. Nothing naughty, but I have had them facing each other, the man adoringly facing the woman or simply standing equally side by side in hopes that one day, somehow the power of the tiki idols will grant me the fortune of true love and an everlasting relationship. So far, they have not worked, but that doesn’t mean I will not keep trying. Maybe I need to change the room they’re in, it wouldn’t hurt to try.
Looking at my tiki peeps brings me joy. The woman, in all honesty resembles me with my big loud mouth wide open, always spouting whatever is on my mind, void a filter. The man looks happy and content to be at her side. Slightly taller and much thinner than she and possibly donning a goatee. I could quite easily see myself with a man who dons a goatee, yes indeed. Would Michael look good in a goatee? No way! If memory serves me, he may be a little taller than I, but not much thinner. Maybe that’s the problem, he does not resemble my male tiki idol. Therefore, hitherto Michael is not the man for me. He is simply an idea, an entertaining storyline to delight me until my true tiki idol man finds me.
Ah, the power of the tiki idols. Moments earlier I was damning myself to a lifetime of loneliness, now I find myself feeling hopeful. I long for the day I can sinfully sip a delicious tropical beverage in a bowl sized vessel, preferably with a paper parasol studded with slices of juicy pineapple, orange and a maraschino cherry, or two. I want to sit near the towering tiki idols of Hala Kahiki’s inviting gardens, sipping, laughing and sharing my love of MCM everything with a man who adores me, and only me. For the tiki gods will have granted my greatest wish, a lifetime to spend with my one true love and a second round of Big Island Mai Tais! Cheers!
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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