10: "Once bitten....Twice shy!"

I could NOT do this again.


I was not ready to take another emotional battering. No energy to climb back to sanity.
I scrambled away from him, scurrying in my haste to get away, tripping over my own legs and landing in an graceful heap on the floor. I popped up and stood behind the chair. Eyes wide, face frozen like a deer in headlights.
“NO” - his hands are raised and he's cautiously edging towards me, “I'm sorry, didn't mean that to happen.

And I pause. Who am I fooling. It's gotten really late whilst I sat there chatting to Craig I'm not foolish enough to run outside without a well thought out plan ready to be executed. Really, I had to be rational. Weight up my options. Outside awaited me a dark country lane, a car with no petrol and no mobile. I decided to be reasonable.


I hadn't realised that he was getting closer to me as the conversation drew on. When he had first led me into his house I had sat across from him. One hand gripping my handbag.

First cup of tea.....he's opposite me. We're talking. The conversation is flowing nicely I'm secretly plugging him for information in case something happens. This is what I learnt. His name is Craig David, unfortunately like the 'singer'. Hates jokes of this nature. I bite my tongue to stop me saying “can you fill me in” or pointing at his tea and crying “what's your favour? OOo, tell me what's your flavour hmmmm!”

Second cup of tea....and he was next to me. Not a problem honestly. At least not yet it hadn't been. It wasn't as if I could feel his breath on my face when he spoke or anything, I think that would have been a major clue that I need to move seats, or move on out the house.

So I had three illogical options.

One, I could run to the kitchen. It must be loaded with utensils that I could use as weapons. But did I really want to be the one calling the police from a strangers house. Waiting for them to arrive, then having to explain not only what I was doing in said strangers house but also why I had been stupid to enter said strangers house and stay till dark whilst drinking three cups of tea. I also didn't think I'd be able to explain a fatal or semi-fatal knife wound as a self defence reaction against an unwanted kiss.

Alternatively, I could take him on. Man to hmm..not so man and just tackle him down. Logically speaking, it was safer then the knife option. Though I didn't really want a record that said I had used G.B.H. On some guy because he kissed me. Pathetic right. And lastly, I re-evaluated my run plan. Virtually plotted the escape route. Doubtlessly it would be a lot more difficult to execute in the dark.

I clenched the sofa. The corduroy uncomfortable beneath my palms, whilst my body rocked on the precipice of fight or flight. Watched him. He was watching me back. His mouth moving, slowly and wordlessly. As if he was rehearsing just what to say. I calm myself down. Reach an appropriate level of normalcy. Or as close to normalcy as I could get at that given moment. I release the chair from its hostage situation and knot my hands together. My fingers still sore and tense.
“it's okay...” I said. So muffled that he continues to look at me. His blank, confused expression the only reply that I'm likely to get. I close my eyes, clear my throat, cease ringing my fingers like their wet laundry and repeat.

“It's okay!” he smiles back at me. Though it seems far from real, its so strained that it refuses to sit comfortably on his now, 'I could be a friend but have I screwed it up?' face. So I nod, whilst smoothing back hair off my face- anything to resemble a reasonable looking female. I also knew that I had to keep my hands occupied or else they would be attempting to wrap themselves(with slight force from me) around his neck.

Neither of us had moved yet. The undercurrent in the room contradicting my previous words. He's looking at me and I'm looking everywhere else.

Checkmate.

I move first, hands still fidgeting now with the the buttons on my shirt.

I sit down.
Pick up my half empty, and now cold cup of tea and stir it.

9: "If men are like buses....why catch one?"

Sometimes, you take a step too far.
Turn down the wrong path only to learn that its a one way street, and with the exit so far away...you follow the road in the hope that at some point you'll get direction. You don't always get to have your cake and eat it. I've had indigestion for months now. Anxiety at my own behaviour. It's easy enough to tell myself to stop. I say it most times I look in the mirror!

STOP!!!

But stop doesn't delete memories. It doesn't erase emotions. And most importantly it can't rewind time.
We've got closer in the past year. Craig and I. Which in itself is ironic, because in the past year I couldn't have begun to move any further away from him then I already have. Sometimes, when he's being nice I want to be mean. Just so he has reason to dump me and I won't have to break his heart. Does he suspect? I don't know. Who introduces their boyfriend to the man their cheating with? Craig's great as well. “The perfect guy” my mother said, the first time I introduced her to him. Having spent years imagining that Taye and I would settle down together I know it cant be easy for her. Or Mary, Taye's Mum. It's with the best intentions. But what do they say about that? Even with the best intentions things can go awry.
I can't blame Mum. I can't blame Mary. I blame myself!

Craig and I met 5 years ago. 5 years ago when I had done something bad. So bad that I couldn't function. Had found myself driving around for no reason until I was stuck in a country lane. No petrol. No phone. Just an immense amount of silence and I was forced to relive my actions again and again in my thoughts. Until, this friendly face followed the hand of someone knocking on my car door and I had had to wipe my face....adjust my appearance and open the window.



*



“Need help?” he asked.

I looked at him, his hair was a light shade of brown peppered with specks of blonde. I didn't know this now, but later when we got together I called them his sunshine's. He had sprayed sunshine onto my life when I had been feeling most down. His eyes are great too, so expressive and at that moment in time said friendly. So that I was inclined to talk to him and not wind my window up or lock the car door.
“How did you guess?” I croak. I'm feeling really self concious and want to cover myself up. I'm not dressed to be in company of anyone else. My car never minds what I wear but I was incredibly worried that I looked a mess. My hair was barely brushed. Messier than my thoughts. My shirt was hastily buttoned and the wind that hit my chest when I opened the window suggested that I hadn't even buttoned it up properly.
He smiles at me and I quickly glance down. Relieved to see that I had pulled a skirt on. He introduced himself to me. I learnt that his name was Craig, and that I had been fortunate enough to run out of petrol a short 10 minute walk from his house and very lucky that he had decided to take the dog for a walk and seen me slumped at the wheel. He was single. Not looking. Which I usually took to mean 'looking but not looking at you'. I hadn't minded. In fact, felt quite relieved because it meant that I didn't have to make an effort with the conversation. It was obvious I was upset about something. Clearly it's not normal to leave the house looking like I did, plus my eyes were puffy from crying and my lips swollen from being kissed.

So I had accompanied him to the house, my hand posed on the rape alarm that I carried I my pocket. There was no one else around but I hoped if I needed to use it the volume would shock him enough to give me the opportunity to run.

We chatted about everything but the reason of why I was in my car, and looking like I did. Drank tea and laughed and I began to feel reasonably normal again.



Until I found myself receiving the second unexpected kiss of the day.......

8: You'll always be my best friend, you know too much!"

Kendall and I have been friends for a really long time. Planned to be friends forever. Both of us victims of fate, or at the very least victims of our single working mothers. As luck would have it we started our educational journey at the same school.




I had been excited about the first day. Been ready since birth and had listened to relatives and family friends continually state that I was '5 years old going on 50!' Kendall wasn't so enthusiastic. Her mother had literally had to wrench her free from her legs and force her into the centre of the room. She'd rushed out of the door straight after, possibly because she was late for work. And bumped into my mother who was distracted in the process of calling me back towards her because I had forgotten to take my lunch box from her.



I hadn't liked the sight of Kendall at first. Just as she looks fragile now she looked even more fragile then. At 5 I was so certain of who I was meant to be and what I needed to do to get there. Its funny, because I'm 27 now and I've never been more clueless. So I had befriended Kendall, not because she was someone I would initially choose to be my friend but because at the age of 5 I could see the bigger picture and knew that when play time came I would need someone to play tag with, because I wasn't going to be the freaky child chasing no one but herself.



As Mrs. Bates told us to take our seats I had rushed to make sure I could sit next to her. And in return she had rewarded me with one of her great smiles, something I was so used to now that I took it for granted.



So she had smiled and I had waved and said “Stacy!” before taking my seat. She muttered her name and if I hadn't been sitting so close I would have missed her say “Hi I'm Kendall!”, before she dipped her head back down into her chest and awaited my next vocal interruption.



*



“I'm going to marry him!” I stated. Age 8 I was still so sure of myself. Kendall and I were hiding behind a hedge watching the older kids play football. We were both 8 and had discovered the benefits of gossip. Him was Taye, my friend from another school and my mothers best friends son. Kendall and I had come along way in the past three years, I felt comfortable enough to trust her with my life plan- or the parts of it that I had mapped out already. In return she no longer muttered into her chest and had begun to whole heartedly dig in and participate in all of my schemes.



Taye, the boy who could be friends with everyone and anyone but still managed to make time for me winked across the pitch. Either my 'doo-do' plaits were peeking over the top of the hedge or he was aware of the moving giggling bushes. Taye tolerated Kendall, called her my shadow, which I guess back then she was. I was a natural born leader, and if my class mates a school didn't pick me to lead a task. Well, naturally I took charge anyway.

7."Make friends, make friends....never never break friends?!"

I knew him first.

Not an excuse. Just trying to help you understand.

I had him first too.

 You know what I mean, don't act shocked. It's not so black and white. I never got jealous of my ex-boyfriends previous girlfriends because that was before me. And when I had him, Kendall didn't, wasn't. They weren't. I kept it a secret. Not ashamed. Okay slightly, I slept with my Best friend. Not just once that time either.

I had sex with my best friend 3 times. I could call him that because he was there as much as Kendall had ever been, sometimes more. So yes, I had sex with my best friend three times. He was my first and he was my current and I know he's meant to be my last.

Three times we coupled like animals, mad for each other. We didn’t make love, we hadn’t had sex. We’d just done it. Done the deed three times, and each time it changed our lives. Ruined his. Ruined mine.


But it had always been a natural reaction. We had always spontaneously sprung together, and after, just as spontaneously sprung apart. Simultaneously moved away from each other like the distance meant we hadn’t been that stupid. Done something stupid. Like we hadn’t been so stupid to do it the first time, and then that second time and finally the third. Would have kept doing stupid things together if I hadn’t taken action and walked away. I'd had to walk away to keep the last bit of dignity that I had left. Lose him in that manner because it was easiest to walk away, make it my choice, then stay. Play pretend for a little while longer that things between us hadn’t changed again. Couldn’t stay, wouldn’t stay, when I knew that sooner or later he’d realise how much things had changed and then I’d lose him all over again anyway. So I pushed all of that into a vault, and Taye, Kendall and I operated in the friendship box. Untill everything changed all over again, and I learned they were dating. If two wrongs won't make a right, try a third?

*

It started with touches.

Before either of us knew what touches could do. Little gestures, like him stroking the inside of my wrist when I cried, or pulling on my ear lobe when I hadn’t got a joke he’d meant for me to laugh at. Comforting gestures. Mum never got why I pulled at my ear every time I laughed after that. But it was my way of saying its ok, I get the joke now. We gave each other little touches. Like I’d lean into his side knowing his arm would always come round me when I was uncertain or feeling left out.

Little touches.

Him smoothing my hair down, petting it back into place just so that Mum wouldn’t get mad at me later. Make me cry. Scream at me that she didn’t know why she spent so long fixing my hair, threaten me with semi-empty threats about how she was going to shave it all off ‘to teach me not to be so naughty’. She often informed me that she wasn’t going to bother fixing my hair if ‘that was all I was going to do’ after.


Little touches.

Like when he kissed all my cuts and bruises that I got from falling over or failing to keep up with him on one of our adventures. Kissed them because he’d seen both of our mums do it a million times before and he knew that it made me happy.

Aged 10 he was the one waiting when i was upset, there for me knowing he was always the one i would run to first. At age 10 he would wash away my tears mature before his time always beyond his years. Aged 10 he told me he would always make me happy, sworn to it. Been so sincere. Not cared that others teased him for hanging around with me, when I was always going to be two years younger.And later when our two became three and Kendall joined in he hadnt minded. Age 10 he told me that he would always be there to make me happy. And at age 10 when he’d made me that promise, he had meant it.

Age 8 I’d smiled when he said that, happier then he could ever know. Smiled with happiness that only he could give me. Age 8 I’d slipped my smaller hand into his bigger one and held on tightly reminding him that I wasn’t about to let go. Age 8 I’d risen on tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek, giggling when he’d shied away embarrassed. And aged 8 I’d calmly informed him that I was going to marry him one day. Age 8 I’d meant it too.

6. "Nothing's perfect, is it?"

I never should have kissed him back. Never should have let him kiss me in the first place. You have no way of knowing if you like something if you haven't tried it., forbidden fruit and all that. I can't even tell you why I did. Or maybe I can, I wanted perfect. At the very least a little taste, and he offered it to me, but nothing is perfect, is it?

*

"You think he's cheating, you haven't caught him have you?" I ask. I'm treading on a very thin, dangerous line. 'Step on a crack and you break your mother's back!'

She shakes her head, as if clearing her thoughts, her long hair spraying out in all directions framing her fragile face, and she bites her lip. Concentrating.

"A good cheat never gets caught!" She states, with such conviction that I gasp unexpectedly. My Kendall wasn't a cynic. After 22 years of friendship I'd know that. This was a new side of her, a new facet, and I knew that I had inadvertently caused this.

Yet I'm breathing easier now. Relieved. There's no crime without evidence.

"Okay." I take another deep breath, it's so much easier now, prepare myself because I'm about to step even closer to the edge of discovery.

"-what do you want to do?"

Kendall raises her head, eyes bright, smile shining. It's removed all shadows of doubt and concern from her face. I see relief too. Finally our coffee Tuesday is back on track, following schedule just as it should be. We have reached the moment for hypothesising. We're ready to start weighting up the pro's and con's of her pursuing this venture.

"Are you sure?" she asks, she knows me as well as she knows herself. Which is ironic as she should have guessed that I am the other woman. However, she is intuitive enough to realise that I am not all there. Not 100% committed to this. And I'm not. My mobile phone in box full of plenty of reasons pertaining to this.  I wanted to keep some of my pennies out of the hat. Not all surprises are good.

I'm scared all over again. Palms sweaty. Anxious. Worried. Concerned. I am losing what little control I have left. I want to freeze time. Stop the moment. I'm honestly worried that this will be the last 'coffee Tuesday' ever. Our last scheming session. And it's not how I would have imagined. Always thought that they would end because we were old and happy. So content in life that we wouldn't have anything to scheme about, wouldn't need to plot. We only ever did this when we were unhappy about something anyway.

I pause, hesitate. Reach inside of my handbag and withdraw my diary. Click the pen on. Flick to the 'To..Do...' section.

Ready!

5. “If the fish had not opened its mouth, it would never have been caught”

I knew him first. Not an excuse, an explanation. At the very least we all deserve one.

Did that make what I had done, am doing, better? No, but can you honestly say it doesn't help explain things at all? He should have been mine. But I didn't think that way when I was 10. Who expects to meet their soul mate at that age. Many woman and men go their whole lives without discovering theirs, so don't hold it against me that I let mine slip away.

We had always been close. And before puberty led us to discover sex and eventually love, we were equals. Taye might have been a guy, genetically predisposed to be stronger than Kendall or I. Yet we held our own. If he wanted to play football and climb trees, than fine, we could too. But it worked both ways, and when we wanted to sit down for girly time and discuss our futures and what we had planned Taye had to join in too. No one would dare label him as gay. He was comfortable in his masculinity from the very start. Almost as if he had been born perfect. He stayed perfect too, made things even worse. And because he was so perfect I resisted. Scorned his advances when I later realised that him teasing and pushing and tickling me and all the other little signs were his non-verbal communication of attraction. Trouble was my very verbal put downs soon sent him to number three, Kendall. Who, unfortunately is as perfect as him. Ying and Yang. Taye and Kendall fit. I sometimes found myself watching them. Her with her mocha skin, straight hair and Brazilian features. Him with his deep rich chocolate eyes, constant easy smile and toned flawless body fit. They just fit.

I was jealous. Not an excuse. I just want you to understand. Need to understand myself!

 I didn't try to steal him. I was happy with Craig, had even allowed myself to contemplate a future with him. Problem is Craig was comfortable. As an earthquake his seismic waves are barely detectable. So why stay with him? Because I liked him. I like him. A lot. He wasn't my cover story, a carefully laid plan. That requires forethought and this honestly wasn't premeditated.

Two perfect people. Throw me into the equation and things aren't so perfect. Whilst far enough from ugly, I am not an obvious beauty. Sometimes guys would have to look twice to realise I am a gem. A jewel worth more than a quick glance or a second inspection. I never was playing hard to get if you told me I looked great and I shrugged it off. Kendall knew that, problem is so did Taye.

I don't know who I am any more. I can't see a bigger picture. I'm stuck in the moment trapped by my lies. I hate myself. I hate who I am and what I have lost to get there. 'He who pays the piper, calls the tune".

I can blame no one but myself. I wouldn't want to be my own friend and yet I still hope Kendall will want to be. I once read 'that most affairs aren't sought, they usually happen at a vulnerable time'. There's nothing vulnerable about a brick wall. It's meant to be impenetrable, isn't it?!

4."L.O.V.E."

LOVE.

Four letters, one word. Simple.
Four letters, that in reality are far from simple.

My life before love was simple, and I could be described using simple sentances.

I was Stacy.
Kendall's Best friend.
Craig's Girlfriend
Taye's Girlfriend's Best friend.
Taye's friend.

Stacy,
SIMPLE.

Now?

Obviously there's no simple lines. I'm stuck with the choice of confessing and breaking my Best friend or piling on more lies to hide an ugly truth.  It's hard and it's not simple. I can't bring myself to use these simple descriptions anymore. I'm not the best. Not the Best friend anyway. Girlfriend? I'd become more girl than friend, gotten lost somewhere along the way. Lost and caught up in Taye.

It's complicated. But who wants to listen to excuses? Feeble explanations for awful inexcusable actions, they weren't welcome here!
The creator of the love triangle has got it all wrong. Love knows no shapes or boundaries. Nothing is simple or easy. There's not always three parts to a story, sometimes theres four. And when there is more, is there anyone willing enough to wait and listen? Take all into consideration and withhold prejudice? And when love takes on a shape more complex than a triangle, then what? Well, thing's get messy.

It's spilled into all aspects of my life. A dirty little secret, which in the harsh light of day seems far dirtier! A secret on the verge of discovery. I had done something wrong. I feel sick, and I won't feel better until I make things right.

I am Stacy.

As to everything else? Well, your guess is as good as mine!