It Must Be Karma

I went out with this guy for a short while. A really strange guy, actually he was a complete loser. Why did I go out with him? To this day, I have not the faintest idea what could have motivated such a choice. He was by no mean handsome, sexy, brilliant, rich, good lover, kind, funny or even decent. In fact he was weak, deceitful and completely disconnected.

My feelings for him mostly consisted of a certain disdain strangely associated to my brother. You see only a few days after I discovered that I had been sexually molested by my brother did I meet this guy. Worst still, they bore a certain physical resemblance. Anybody in their right mind would have concluded that perhaps the timing was slightly off and abandoned the pursuit. Not him. Even though I had informed him of the particulars of my life and what was bond to happen following such discovery, he was determined to be a part of it.

I think as nice and decent as we mostly all are, there comes a time in every human being’s life where being bad takes over, if only for a short while. Although not intentionally, someone ends up paying for all the evil deeds made by others before them. Perhaps it is karma. Perhaps they deserved all the pain that comes their way. Perhaps, and I am sure I am stretching the concept here, that having been hurt so often and by so many somehow entitled me to a certain degree of retaliation.

So I figured, the victim may just as well be him… he was so eager. In retrospect, I was bad. I made him pay. I made him absolutely miserable. I got it all out of my system. I was surprised that he lasted that long.

One night while I was sound asleep, I heard an uproar coming from his side of the bed. I woke up but, not enough to appreciate what was going on. Still to this day, I have no idea what happened. Never-the-less, he got up, dressed, and left, more or less in that order while making much fuss and backtracking in between. I think he thought I would get up and convinced him to go back to bed. Instead I dozed off.

The morning after, I called him to find out what had happened. He did not answer my call or returned it. Being the smart girl that I am, I figured it was finally over. The grief, if any, would be short lived as I was going on holidays a few days later. A nice trip in the sun that I had planned solo a week earlier, it would do me wonder.

I had always been pretty decent until then and although I was not particularly nice to him, I thought the ending should be more civilized. Therefore, the morning of my departure, I left a message on his voice mail summing up my hunch that it was over and that the break up was probably the best thing that could have ever happened to us, we were after all a very bad match, sorry for everything, goodbye and good luck.

A few weeks ago, months after the fact, I received a brief e-mail from him, it said: “If you want to have a coffee phone me.” I pondered over the content. I thought it said so much about him. Nothing to the effect that he would like to have a coffee with me, that recently he had thought about me and would like to catch up or else, which could have enticed a much nicer answer. Rather it meant if you want to see me, I am willing to be seen by you!

Needless to say, the bad girl resurfaced just long enough for the answer back: “I don’t.”