Almost

Written as a letter to a former who wasn't who he claimed to be. It details some of their relationship and how she's left with all of these questions to which they aren't any answers.

I’ll always have the chicken cheese masala dosa. And Young the Giant. And now I know that the Food Inn in town makes better samoosas than the one in Rondebosch. And the difference between a Bistro and a normal restaurant. And have a vague idea of the relationship between gravity and time. And actually just know what a good boyfriend does, and how it feels when someone just wants to take care of you, and then does just that. Because it was good, so good, before it was nothing.

Remember I told you once that I used to write when I was younger? Now look, you’ve inspired me to do it again.

I went online because I wanted to meet someone new, get laid.  I hadn’t seen my regular partner in awhile and I was feeling neglected. And he was about to go home for short vacation so I needed a backup. Because anybody other than him was supposed to be a backup, a secondary. Just a fun side thing. We dated once but were just friends now.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit that your profile didn’t even have a face on it. Just abs and a beard. But I like beards. And abs. Usually I don’t like those kinds of profiles but then I read your bio and it was hilarious. I actually took a screen shot of it. 

“I wish this thing had different sections which matched people based on varying degrees of humor. If you laughed at a Tyler Perry movie it paired you with a toaster and a full bath. And if you can appreciate the dialogue between Laurie/Atkinson in Black Adder you’d be allowed to come here. We all have a career �" I don’t wanna hear about yours. Ginger girls are a treasure and should be worshipped”

There was also something about being lightly bearded and sarcastic. And I was sold. So funny, and my kind of funny. So I swiped right, or whichever way you swipe to like and it matched! To my (slight) surprise.  So I exited thinking it’d take you ages to reply but it actually didn’t and we started chatting, hitting it off immediately. You were lowkey letting me know you just wanted a casual kind of arrangement, friends with benefit kind of thing. And I was lowkey letting you know that is what I wanted as well and you could stop beating around the bush. So I gave you my number and we started messaging and we chatted for ages. You were still being like a slight dick but I liked it. I’m kind of a slight b***h so it was chilled. 

I remember one of the first conversations we had you told me you had this huge gun collection and you showed me all these photos.

I’m guessing you don’t have any guns. 

Considering that you sent me far too many photos of these imaginary guns. Maybe it was a test? To see what kind of person I was? If I’d freak out on you? But of course I didn’t because I don’t do that. I was far more interested in why you felt the need to have them then that the guns themselves.

You told me you liked to collect things. Especially things hard for other people to find. Guns and watches and other stuff like that.

Do you have a comic book collection? Are you restoring an antic typewriter? Do you collect random stuff?

When you sent your first voice note I was a little caught off guard that you had an accent but it didn’t bother me. That’d be rather a dumb thing to be bothered about. I came to LOVE that accent, the way you spoke, the way you put your sentences together, the words you chose. Your dumb gangster analogies.

Do you even have an accent?

In those first voice notes you told me your mum was a stripper. You were in Johannesburg.

Were you in Johannesburg?

Why would you say your mum was a stripper? I don’t think she’d like that.

You said you had to move to the other room so you told your colleagues it was your mum on the phone. We exchanged photos of our music playlists and discovered we had like the exact same taste in music. And you realized you could send messages from your Mac which was revolutionary for you. You had taken off your contacts and couldn’t see the phone screen. Didn’t have your spectacles. 

You used to say spectacles.

Do you say that or was that part of the whole “English is not my first language thing”?

Do you speak any other languages?

When you came back from Johannesburg, it was a Wednesday, you came over that afternoon. I wore a coat and my underwear underneath. You had asked me to and I had thought why not? So I did it. Dropped the coat when we got to my room.

It was ages before you even took off your shoes. Hardly any words exchanged. I was naked of course and you were showing me the ‘skills’ you had boasted about.  

And then you just stopped and you were like “How’s it going?” I was so surprised I just laughed and we talked a bit. Pleasantries, nothing really substantial. And then you went back to work.

I think I’ll always think about your hands and your mouth on me.  

We had such a physical connection. Did you feel it too?

You stopped again and we spoke. I pointed out that you were still dressed so you stood and started taking off your clothes. Very methodical. You folded your shirt and put it on the chair, your jeans followed. Shoes on the floor. Boxes folded on top of the clothes. You always did that. So opposite to me who just steps out of her clothes at the end of the day.

You told me that you had twenty one pairs of boxers, 3 sets of seven and each week you wore a particular kind. One week stripes, one week solid colors. I don’t remember the third.

I think when you said you were a bit OCD it was true.

And the way you dried your hands! Cannot forget about that. I always noticed the way you dried your hands when you came from the bathroom. Each finger individually, the bottom, the top. Very thorough. You said once that you weren’t a savage and that cleanliness was important.

I believe that.

That night you only left my place at like one or two in the morning. We’d spent hours together. Talking and touching each other.

I know that after that you came over every day for the next week but I don’t think I remember what we did when.

I told you that you I could make pancakes and so one of the days you told me you just had a morning meeting and then you’d be free for the rest of the day. And that pancakes would be great. So you came over in the afternoon, picked me up from campus, and we came back to my place and I made us a batch of pancakes. You sat on the stool and watched me. I was impressed when you washed the dishes I was dirtying without being asked. When you told me about your love of cooking, all the things you loved to make, the bread you baked, the way you matched your meals to blends of coffee, I was pretty stunned. All the things you were saying were things I imagined I would be doing some day (when I could afford it). 

Do you even cook? Do you bake bread with ricotta in it?

I think you do like to cook, you did have photos.  I think we’ll accept that one.

We ate the pancakes on my bed and spoke about random things. I think you were telling me about the cases you were working on.

Did you just make those up? Are you a practicing lawyer?

Then we ended up naked in bed like we always did. 

In the beginning you used to steal kisses. You’d kiss me when I wasn’t expecting it and then laugh triumphantly. That was a great laugh.

I loved the way you laughed.

You told me that you knew you were developing feelings for me when you felt the need to kiss me. You stole them because you didn’t know how I felt about you.

Oh but our kisses were magic. Do you remember how it felt? Your heart used to race, so did mine. I felt your kisses in my whole body.

Do you remember when we stopped because your heart was racing and you needed a moment just to calm down a bit? And when you pulled away from me and groaned before continuing, your hand gripping the headboard.

I didn’t imagine that.

That day of the pancakes we did something else. I’m not sure if that’s the night of the Gatsby or not. I shall say it was.

You told me that you were meeting your friends at 9 to watch the soccer. There was a final for one of the tournaments. I don’t remember which. But as you were getting dressed you changed your mind.

You told me that a friend had told you the most romantic thing to do in Cape Town was to get a Gatsby (it’s like a huge roll stuff with chips, sausage, eggs etc)  and eat it on the bonnet of your car on Signal Hill.

“Let’s do that,” you said.

“Right now?” I asked.

“Yeah, why not? These guys don’t need me for the soccer.”

And so I got dressed and we went.

This was a different day then the pancakes, before I think.

You said I looked tough in the jacket I was wearing, like your body guard. We laughed at that. We drove to town and got a Russian Gatsby. You had said you’d never had one before.

That was a lie wasn’t it?

We dove to signal hill with the gatsby and ate it looking at the view of Cape Town at night. We didn’t sit on the car because we didn’t want to damage beautiful Madison’s paint job. 

You told me about your school days

Did they call you moose in school? Where did you go to school? Did you play rugby? 

And I told you about mine, and my siblings.

You spoke to me about your fascination with astronomy and tried to explain to me the relationship between time and gravity. I don’t really remember it. I don’t really know why we left there but we did. We went to the beach. Which you told me you hated but I told you I loved. And so we went there. We sat on a bench looking at the ocean which was just a black mass.

You opened up to me. Or at least you pretended to.

All that Arab hate you got was obviously a lie, those phases you said you went through to get to where you are now. All that was a lie.

But everything I told you was the truth.

But we also laughed and joked and spoke about the shows we watched. That wasn’t lies.

You told me you loved the way I laughed, that I got a dimple in my cheek when I was really laughing. Do you remember how warm it was that night? So unusual for a winter night in Cape Town.

We left there because you needed cigarettes. You got some and mints for me, for my handbag. We went to a playground in Sea Point and told each other about all our weird s**t. Like how I call prestik sticky stuff and you think barbecuing is a savage form of cooking from a prehistoric era. We tried to see-saw but it didn’t work because you’re like forty kilograms heavier than me.  I told you about the problem of storm surges against the Sea Point promenade wall and your told me I was smart.  It was a Sunday and I was worried that you had to be up for work in the morning. I think it was around 2 am.  You told me you were going to take the day off and so that’s why you weren’t bothered about the time.

We eventually headed back home. You parked outside my gate and kissed me on the cheek. I told you I wanted more than a kiss on the cheek.

And we kissed.

And I wanted you.

And you wanted me.

F**k but I miss those dam kisses. I was wet and ready and my breathing was heavy. 

But you had to go. You never stayed the night.

The next day was the pancake day. Sorry I’m all mixed up. Not like you’re here to help me out. 

You just had to go to the one meeting and then you were free. 

That night we got samoosas in Rondebosch and drove to upper campus. We parked, once again with the view of Cape Town at night spread out below us. You told me about your varsity days.

You didn’t go to UCT where did you go? Did you really do so much drugs? Was any of it the truth? Did you start with engineering before switching to law?

There was a couple in the car a few spaces from us. They got out and wondered to the war memorial. He was dressed real casual, like he was just chilling at home and she was wearing a really nice coat, dress, nice shoes. We joked about how he lied to her about where they were going. She thought they were going “out out” as opposed to UCT upper campus. That was fun.

You were so funny. We laughed a lot, over stupid s**t.

When the samoosas were done and it was getting late we headed back and you dropped me off. I think that was the night you messaged me at like 2 or 3 in the morning. You told me that you couldn’t stop thinking about me and that you had real feelings for me.  Like really real. And you were freaking out about it because you didn’t know how I felt about you, you were scared I didn’t feel the same. I told you that I liked you too, I enjoyed spending time with you. And when you expressed an opinion about something, I usually felt the same. We definitely had something. An early something, but something that felt big. 

I explained to you that the reason I didn’t want to be in relationship was because I was a final year, and not South African. Come 2017 I had no idea where I’d be. I’d go wherever I found a job. And you told me that you wanted me in your life and that we didn’t have to be serious or official till 2017, or till I had a clearer idea of what was happening with my life. 

You used to call me pretty lady. Before long you called me “my pretty lady’.

You used to run your hands lightly over my back, my shoulders, my bum, my thighs. I loved it. And you knew what it did to me, what your touch did to me. Just that would get me so turned on, I would be begging for a firmer touch. On the front side of my body. 

Do you remember when we sat on the bed and you were rubbing my elbow wondering how it could be so soft?

I can still picture you in my bed, remember the side profile of your face. You used to say you had a big nose but I didn’t think so. Fit in with your face.

I loved your face.

You had such crazy long eye lashes. Like women would kill for eyelashes like yours.  And your hair was so straight and grew in one direction. I used to try and mess it up but it never worked.

You used to say you loved the way I touched you. 

Does she touch you like I did?

Is that why you needed me?

You didn’t have any social media, but you were a lawyer and they can be a liability so it made sense that you didn’t. Or I just wanted you to be real.

I was really worried you weren’t. That something was up.

Remember that night we drove along the coast and parked the car, overlooking camps bay and drank a bottle of wine? You told me were struggling that night and thanked me for chilling with you.

Are you a drug addict? Were you struggling that night? Were those stories you told me true? You do have family in Cape Town so that stuff about being alone must’ve been lies, right?

Remember when we got chicken cheese masala dosa and ate it on signal hill? And that little kid opened the car door? We got it because you wanted me to get a taste the Middle Eastern food you grew up with. 

But you’re Middle Eastern not are you?

I told you funny stories about work and the dumb stuff I used to think of when I was a kid. You told me that you fought, like mixed martial arts and stuff.

Do you actually fight?

The first time you ever took me anywhere it was to go get ice cream. That’s when you played Young the Giant for me and I loved it. You also explained some stuff about the engine of your car that I did not care about at all. But I listened and paid attention because I could tell that talking about that stuff excited you. And I didn’t mind listening. You got me a tub of salted caramel and we went back to my place. You pointed out were you gym.

Do you even gym there?

And where you worked.

I think we all know you didn’t work there.

The day we got the dosa you insisted we go visit my best friend. You wanted distraction because you had a think tank that weekend and you were nervous. So we drove to her res and parked outside. She came out and you just unleashed the funny! You made us both laugh so much. You made up a story about the necklace I got her for her birthday. That it belonged to a racist Afrikaner woman that was now rolling in her grave over the idea of her beloved necklace being on the neck of a black woman. It started raining and you got me an umbrella from the car. You always cared a lot about my well-being. That was nice.

When you walked me to my gate you’d always say “Now quickly go inside before someone steals you”.

Do you remember when you told me about the kind of partner you imagined yourself with? This was in the early days, when you didn’t have feelings for me and I didn’t have them for you. I just thought you were hot.

You said that you wanted someone intelligent, who could talk to you about anything, who was kicking a*s in her career just like you were. You wanted someone who challenged you and who would be your equal, a partner, and you’d both be dominating.

And then you told me that you could see that in me. I was just a student but you could see what I would become and you wanted to be there for that. Wanted to be my partner. 

Did you mean that?

Is that what you see in her?

You told me you loved me. When I told you I had a problem and that I would solve it myself and you said “you’re one half now”. 

Why did you say that?

You told me that you saw me in your future, that you would follow me if I had to move city.

Why did you say that?

You told me that you would always come back to me.

Why did you say that?

You told me that you wanted me to be your person.

Why did you say that?

You told me once that you would have to go away for a few weeks, because your firm signed a new client and you had to go to their head office. You really freaked out that night. Or you seemed to. You said you felt lost, couldn’t get your feet on the ground. You told me that you’d been drinking, that you were losing your s**t because you felt like you had just found something special with me and now you were being forced to move away. You said you were worried I’d find somebody better. 

And I reassured you the fool that I was. I told you that while you were gone I wouldn’t even see anyone else because I’d be so busy missing you and then when you came back I’d be too busy being happy you were around.

What the f**k was that all about, guy?

Do you remember that week when work was really hectic (was it really?) and you were really tired? And you came over at like 9 am on a Friday and we slept and fucked and talked? We spent that whole day in bed. You left at around 6 or 7 for drinks with a client.

I’m guessing there were no drinks with clients.

The next day you woke at like 2 because you were so buggered. I told you I was going for lunch with my best friend to Tableview because it was such a beautiful day. I made a special effort with my appearance and told you I looked good. I was hoping to entice you out of bed to join us. On our way there my best friend sent you a voice note from my phone, telling you how we were going out and were going to have so much fun and he was stuck at home. You sent us the most hilarious voice note back. You figured we were going to drink cocktails and get ‘white girl drunk’ and go skinny dipping. You did sound exhausted. You told us you were going to spend the day in the dark watching series.

Sometime later I sent you a selfie and you replied saying that maybe you would come over after all. I was pretty pleased about that. You arrived as my best friend and I were done with lunch. You had a shot of brandy and a shot whisky. We chatted for awhile, you told us about the glasses on the table, the different types and what they signify. And what makes a bistro a bistro and not restaurant. You knew a lot of stuff. I loved it.

You came up with the idea of going to a bar nearby where they had a great special on Jagermeister and Redbull shots. After much discussion it was eventually decided to go and buy a bottle of Jagermeister and some redbull and to make our own at my place. And that’s just what we did. We polished the bottle in about an hour, maybe more and we were buzzing and feeling nice. 

You spoke to us at length about being Arab and Arab values.

But you’re not Arab are you?

Then we decided to go for a drive. You asked me where I wanted to go and I said I wanted to go to the beach again. You didn’t care where my friend wanted to go. You treated me like I was the priority. You used to say I was a priority in your life and you needed to be in mine too. You wanted me to cut my ex, who was also my dear friend, out of my life because you couldn’t deal with it. Couldn’t handle the thought of not having all of me. Didn’t care that he’d been my closest friend for more than five years. Wanted me to cut him off.

Anyway. We got some fried chicken and went to the beach. When we got there my friend got out of the car and left us alone together. I leaned forward in my seat and said something dirty to you. You groaned and said I couldn’t just say stuff like that to you. We just spoke to each other about sex and we were both turned on. We decided it was best to just get out of the car and breathe some fresh air.

When you dropped me off at home we kissed at my gate. I couldn’t stop and you complained I was started something and you couldn’t stay. You never could.

That was the first time we’d spent time together and no clothes had been removed. You said you liked it, that we were choosing to spend time with each other and not just meeting up for sex. 

You came over the next day, at around noon.

 You went to sleep immediately and I slept on and off. You woke up when I got out of the bed to go pee. I’d taken off my top while we slept because I was hot and I think you were surprised to see me half dressed. You reached for me as I got out of bed but I dodged you and went to pee. When I returned and got back in bed I noticed you had taken off your clothes. Clearly you weren’t tired anymore. 

That must’ve been the only time you didn’t fold your clothes out on the chair properly. I wish I had noticed.

You left that night at about half 7 and that was the last time I ever saw you.

You had shown me a photo of your sister who looked extremely familiar. But your sister wasn’t in Cape Town, right? But I knew she looked like someone I studied with once. So I looked up the girl and she looked just like your sister. And so I sent her an a friend request. I showed you a photo of her and you agreed that she looked like your sister and moved on to a new topic. But then she invited me on a different site. That night and I followed her back. To my great shock I discovered that her brother looks just like you. Exactly like you. Has the same clothes you do. Is a lawyer too.

And then I never heard from you again. You blocked me from everything, got your sister to kick me off her account.

What did you tell her? That I was crazy? Obsessed with you?

And the biggest surprise of all. You had a girlfriend. A serious one, that you’d had for years. 

A kid though. Really? 22 and you’re 28? That’s weird.

But who am I to judge? She seems lovely. Sweet.

But what the f**k guy??? Why were you on tinder? Why did you say all those things?

Why did you say those things!?

I was down. If you wanted an easy f**k, we could’ve done that. We were doing that, having sex with no ties. I wanted it casual and you were the one who started making it more. Why did you do that? Why say and do all those things if all you wanted to do was cheat?

And you’re gone. Ignoring me. Pretending it never happened, that I never happened.

How can you do this? How are you able to just cut me out so easily? Like I was nothing? 

Was I nothing? Was it just a game? Were you just playing pretend? 

I was going to love you. I was going to be your partner. I would’ve been strong when you needed to be weak. I would’ve fought your battles with you. I would’ve burned the world to the ground for you. You would never have doubted me. You would’ve been confident in my loyalty. I would’ve loved you completely. All of you.

And that is was that you lost. 

I don’t even know which parts of you were real and which you made up. And seeing as you have no answers for me. I’m just going to make them up.

You were bored weren’t you? In your relationship, with life. You told me once that you felt you had changed but that you couldn’t really be who you were because everyone around already had this idea of you and they made you conform to it. And that with me you felt that you could be yourself (except you weren’t, you liar). But that was true wasn’t it? You made up this persona and went on tinder with it. I didn’t even know your real name all that time. We matched and we hooked up. I don’t why you made things between us more than that. Either you’re a sociopath who was just playing games with me and seeing how far he could take the lies. Or your feelings for me were genuine, at least partly, and you didn’t expect it and the lies grew out of control. I think it’s a combination of both. You’re too good a liar.

Remember when I told you I told my mum about you and you said you were happy about it? Because it meant I was serious about you.

F*****g hell guy. 

My mother and I spoke a lot about you and how I was feeling about you. I was freaking out that I was developing feelings for you so quickly, thinking of what a future with you might be like.

Remember when you told me you wanted there to be an ‘us’? wanted to be with me, even if you had to move?

And even knowing how it’d all turn out I think I’d still do it again. I wish we had longer together, even knowing it’d end. It was good till it was gone.

It’s like you died. Like I was falling for you and you died and then I found out all this stuff and I can never ask you about it.

Do you remember when we were driving and you played Use Somebody and we both sang along and it was like we were singing to each other? Or at least that’s what it felt like to me, you probably just liked the song.

There’s a particular verse that describes how I felt about you.

“You know you I could use somebody,

Someone like you

And all you know

And how you speak”

Like that’s just how I felt about you. I love how you spoke, the things you said and how you said them. The way you would squeeze me and say “This is nice” when we were lying in bed together. The way you apologized for being out of reach even though I knew you were busy. The way you paid attention to me. All those observations that you made about me that were exactly right. The way you were so amused by how ‘tiny’ I was. The way you paid attention when I spoke. 

I don’t know what to do with all these things because I don’t know if it was really you or not. But maybe that doesn’t even matter. It was real for me and that person is gone. No matter what he’s gone.

I’ve left out a lot I know but I don’t have the time for this, I’ve got a thesis to write. Because all those things you thought I was going to be I really will. I will kickass.

Author's Note

What do you think of all of it?