festival of brides

[work in progress]

My ex girlfriend. By which I mean, the last girl I was in a long-term relationship with. The girl I was in a three year relationship with. That ex-girlfriend has just had a baby with another man.

It doesn’t really bother me. I’m a little put out that she got with a new guy and got pregnant. That she was part of a new family within a month and a half of us breaking up. I’ve always wanted to wake up one day with a family. To just not have a choice either way. That’s just how life goes sometimes. Some days are like torn condoms.

In the aforementioned month and a half, I slept with 4 women. So I know that I didn’t love her. I explain the three years to people as being a time when I couldn’t see that I didn’t love her for all the loving things I was doing. Its like not seeing the wood for the trees. Except you don’t see that you feel nothing, for trying to feel something.

What I never told her, because I was busy trying to love her, was that I was already dating someone when we met. I later learnt that the girl I was dating had loads more in common with me than my ex girlfriend. I sometimes think that if I had chosen differently I might not have had to fake love. ‘Might’.

My mother used to say that when you sleep with a woman, she stays with you. You are married to her by God. She always said the same thing about horror films, that once watched they never leave and you’ll have those images in your mind forever. She never warned me against romantic comedies. She should have.

Understanding this, to say I am a bigamist is an understatement. I’ve often though about having all the women I’ve slept with come together. There would be a festival of brides, because a church would be too small. Also because a lot of them would get on, so we’d get a few bands to play and have a laugh.

At the festival of brides I’d get up on stage and all the girls would file past me in one line. Just like the Pastor did at my old church. Each Sunday he’d welcome each person and they’d take the bread and wine. Except that I’d only kiss each girl. There would never be another last meal between us. I’d never ask them to do anything in remembrance of me.

If I had to choose between keeping all these wives, or trading them for one wife and a kid. Then I’d choose the baby with one. Except that is human nature. Its the same thing as hunger. An involuntary feeling. One you can ignore. In fact, if you asked me to choose then I’d sucker punch you in the gut. I’d say ‘I can do as I please!’ ‘There’s no God in control of me!’. I’d think hard and then say. ‘I don’t think I’m in control of me!’

So my ex girlfriend has had a baby and named him after a singer who killed himself. I’m of the opinion that this is asking for trouble. If I had to choose to name my kid after someone who killed himself, then I’d choose someone who was at least very successful first. Otherwise what hope’s the kid got?

In truth, I don’t worry for the kid. She’ll be a great mother. I know I didn’t love her, but the kid has to. I’m glad that she’s found a guy she can be happy with. I’m getting on with things. Sleeping my way through the phonebook. As Jim puts it.

When the festival of brides rolls into town, there will be no ex girlfriend with her baby and new boyfriend. There will only be me and the women I never loved. The women I lied to. Out of hope, not out of cruelty.