you are devil’s foreplay

Actually. He did gave me things. He has in several occasions bought me flowers. Mainly roses. And I have always said I hate roses.

Okay, I actually don’t hate roses. I just don’t like the way they are the first way out. And then, when he realized that I’m serious with that not liking roses thing, hed started buying me the weirdest flowers. Long sticks with a little puffy end. Weird branches with purple blossoms. And they all smelled like shit. Yes, I admit - I maybe would have liked those weird flowers if it wasn’t HIM who gave them. But it was. And I hated them. And no one understood what did I think with that when I mentioned that Randy never listsens. Never. They just shook their shoulders and were dissappointed in me. Because I should’ve been so happy, right?

Wrong.

All I wanted was bunch of tulips. Yellow, red, green, fucking purple - just tulips. I LOVE tulips.

“What are those?”
“Tulips,” I answered.
“WHO gave you those?!” He started getting angry and upset. Fucking jealousy. I hated that the most, I guess. But that is not the issue at the moment.
“What the fuck, Randy? Are you normal?! I, MYSELF bought them for me. Because I LOVE tulips! And I have always said that.”
“Oh… Okay. Are you sure?”

And on it went, every time. I bought myself tulips throughout winter and spring. Actually, come to think of it, I spend loads of money on it. Never mind, they were beautiful.

When someone came to visit us and they saw the flowers, they always smiled: “Awwww, isn’t that cute. He still buys you flowers… I wish I had someone to buy me flowers…”

Aww my ass. And every time I told them it was me who bought the tulips I loved seeing those confused faces. What…? How…? But you have a boyfriend to buy you… What? I don’t understand…?!

And do you know when was the time HE eventually bought me tulips?

When we were already broken up and he didn’t want to accept it. THEN he thought: oh, that’s right she likes tulips… Fucking tulips. 

Lameass reason, actually. Ranting about tulips. Oh, yeah, right. Here was a bigger point. He never listened, he heard only what he wanted to hear. Actually, him not listening is reason no 2, 3, 4, 5 and 27.

It was that evening I came home and realized I feel nothing for him. It was that evening when I arrived and they were there - my sister and him - at the door.

“Guess, what happend!” My sister Grace was excited.
“What?” I deducted that I was pretty bored and I really didn’t care. What is so important? Fuck you, I’m tired and sleepy and hungry and I wanna be left alone.
“Randy was hit by a car!” Her eyes sparkled. That excitment and fear and adrenaline you see on people’s faces who have just cheated death.

Right. My fianceé was just hit by a car. Checking feelings - there is none. Or maybe just boredom. I saw - he was still alive. So it can’t be that serious, right?

“Really?” I said. Trying to sound sincere. I put my bags down and hugged Randy. He seemed okay and I was still hungry and spleepy and fucking tired. But of course I had to show more. So I showed.
“Really?! How could this happen! Please, do tell me everything!” I think I wasn’t so sarcastic this time actually. But anyway. That’s what I thought. And I was curious.

And couldn’t stop thinking: why the hell didn’t it end more serious?

And I DO feel like shitty person for that. But only thing in my mind at that moment was… It would’ve been so good excuse to cancel the wedding.

I hate myself for that. That I could ever think that way.

But that should’ve been the first sign. Then it was two months to go. Two months. It seemed such a long time. I thought I can get over it. I can “restore” my feelings. I can get over it whatever it was, that was telling me: you can’t get married.

Because it was perfect. I was so lonely for so long. And then he came. We fell in love. And it was perfect. We were lying in bed and talking. I saw how my words made him feel. All my crazy adventures… And he loved me more for that. And his love fed my love. I fell more and more, deeper and deeper. It was a two-way-highway. I have never been in love to anyone who is in love with me at the same time.

It was magical.

And only 7 months later I couldn’t care less whether he was hit by a car or not.

It was national Women’s Day and he didn’t have a gift for me.
That would’ve been logical that I wouldn’t hold a grudge. Because he was hit by a car.

But I did.
I just needed one more reason.

And there it was. Reason number 1:
He never made me gifts. Any gifts.

Actually I should explain that he have made me some gifts. Some.

Once he had a present for me and it was a KinderSurprise - which I had wanted for like three months. Every time we hit a stores I yelled: “KinderSurprise! Oh, wouldn’t it be fun if I had one?”

Then he at last bought i for me.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t NEED gifts. I just like them. And on our fist few days together I gave him a vinyl. It was Pink Floyd’s. And it mend SO much for me. And I just thought that it would continue this way. That we’ll both give each other things that’ll matter.

Until I wrote him “10 reason I love you” and he even didn’t bother to answer.

I think I loved the thought about loving him. That I just needed someone to love and he just was there.

That is reason number 1. He never thought about things that he could give me to make me happy.

He never did gave me anything.