Growing up, I had a mental picture of the woman I’d love to spend my life with. Yes, as a kid I shouldn’t have been thinking about such, but you see, I grew up in the midst of adults so I started to think like them in no time. I wanted a perfect woman; complete in every sense and ramification. I wanted the Cinderella type of story. I wanted to be Prince Charming, saving a damsel in distress from the clutches of probably a cultist and living happily ever after with her; but more importantly, I wanted to grow to become the perfect man – tall, well built, equipped with a killer smile and eyes that could send even the “churchiest” of girls tripping. I think it’d suffice to say that I wanted perfection.
Yes, I wanted to be a bad-ass in every aspect of my life. I was busy making these plans and reality was just sitting, with a smirk of its face and ready to foil all my fantastic plans. Reality was preparing for me. Fixing it’s amours, getting fit and getting armed to its teeth. I was was making plans too. Only with my eyes closed. Blind to the whole world.
I think reality’s first punch was when I realized I was not doing very well in school. Not like I was dull but at least I was among the top 50 best students in a class of 50.
Reality hit me hard, sent me falling to my kneels and confused about the whole fight. Some how, I had a nagging feeling to fight back. But really, was there any need to? I could become a cowboy, I could go live in the Caribbean and marry me a chocolate skinned woman. That’s where the second punch landed on my left cheek, I had no money and neither did my parents.
It jabbed me and left me wincing and lying on my face. I still had fight in me. I was still a bit optimistic about finding my Cinderella. The world couldn’t be that cruel. Oh yes, I found my Cinderella alright,or what appeared to be. And yes, in the hands of a evil villain; a cultist. I thought of saving her from his evil clutches. I was beaten till I turned blue. This was a joint effort between reality and it’s old victims. I was wounded terribly, my self esteem was burnt terribly and started to leap; but really that didn’t hurt me much. Reality had something better in stock for me.
My Cinderella loved this villain. She was in love with the cultist and he was her Prince Charming. This destroyed me. God! Where is the TV? Ok, the final blow, the winning blow, I didn’t turn out as tall as I always wanted to be. I cannot even run for two minutes without feeling like the world is collapsing on me. And oh, I have a very big and round belly. How can I smile? or perform that magic with my eyes? my eyes are always red!.
Well, I’ve accepted this defeat wholeheartedly; I’ve joined the legions of defeated beings who see the world as being unfair. I’ve called a truce with reality, we respect each other now. It respects my boundaries and knows there are some things beyond its reach.
And oh, I’ve found my Cinderella now, she’s not perfect but she completes me. She has a way of making me feel like I’m everything I wanted to be. She too has been defeated. I guess we are both losers in love.
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