An Ode to Loneliness

An Ode to Loneliness
 
I feared you like a dreaded disease,

And so to make sure you did not come my way,

I denied your existence, as I stood alone, 
Watching the other children play

Go away, go away! 
I scolded you; I’m not your friend! 
I will deny you till the bitter end

Yet, no matter how much I hated you,

And no matter how much I reprimanded you,

You remained loyal and always by my side,

So silent, so patient, waiting until I would finally agree

That you’re really not my enemy

I remember the day I visited a ‘friend’,

You were nowhere to be found,

At last he’s gone, I’ve won, I’ve won! I cried

But how wrong I was,

For, there you were,

Waiting so patiently just outside the door,

No, it’s not you again?!

I screamed in pain, 
When I found you at the entrance to his place

Go away, be gone with you, you’re not real, you’re a disgrace!

Then, there came a day in my life,

When I was abandoned by all,

First it was my mother then my father,

My children were to follow and finally my wife,

Some died; others made conditions that I could not fulfil,

Yet you remained with me, immortal, eternal, non-judgemental,

Always waiting so tolerantly, for all the others to say goodbye

In my struggle to get rid of you, I was always so depressed, so sad, so sad,

Until one day, a day of inspiration, a day of understanding and maturity

I decided to reject you no longer,

And in my curiosity to perceive you,

I embraced you, I felt you, caressed you

And allowed you in to my life, to be at my side and take up your rightful place

There would be no more denial, no more struggle…..

And to my surprise, on that day, finally,

I found the happiness that had eluded me all my years

Thank you old friend, for your loyalty and your friendship

For always being there for me when all the others deserted me one by one,

Thank you old friend, for never giving up on me

I know now that you will be there with me, 
Until the setting of my sun

And, how paradoxical is it all,

For even as I write these words for other humans to read and take pity on me,

I'm struggling so desperately for their attention 
In this most pathetic way

So that I may at last connect with my own kind.

But by doing so I'm not embracing you to the full,

And in this last gasp of desperation,

I'm secretly stabbing you in the back, so that you die,

Oh! How cruel and selfish am I?

To you, my loyal friend

Yet even though you know this to be the case,

You still refuse to give up on me,

Realising tis just a weakness of the human race

And so, once again, you wait so very patiently for me,

To realise that ultimately all my fellow kind are only concerned for themselves,

And finally give up all hope for their companionship 
Turning back to you once more,

To be as good a friend to you, 
As you have always been to me,

It is then that you get the loyal companion you have always truly deserved

CHAPTER 18: Puppet on a String

After receiving the okay to call her, I did so right away. I was very nervous, not sure what to expect, she seemed so unpredictable.

Hi, so how are you? She inquired with a giggle, as she answered my call, I’m so glad you called. It’s really good to hear your voice; I missed you! It was all as though nothing major had happened.

Thank you so much for taking my call, I said with a sense of urgency, trying to disguise my quivering voice as I spoke. Do you forgive me? I asked, not really knowing what crime I had committed that sparked her anger and in need of forgiveness.

Yes, I forgive you, she answered, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?!

Thank you so much, I replied with relief. Thank you, thank you!

So when will I see you? She asked with a sweet innocence in her voice, raising the pitch ever so slightly towards the end of her sentence.

Tomorrow, I replied, same time as usual?

That will be nice, I really missed you. See you tomorrow; she said, with a mischievous half giggle.

We did indeed meet the following day as scheduled and what a joyous reunion it was. She was back to her normal self; her magical touch was reassuring and it made me feel comfortable in her presence. The wild animal in her that had pursued me only days earlier; was now nowhere to be found. She had this amazing ability to metamorphose herself, almost at will. One day she could be full of anger and hate and the next day she would be the sweetest, most sensitive, loving, rose; which she was today. I really loved her when she was like this and thought to myself: There is nothing on earth that could make me happier than spending time with her.

The hour we spent together that day, just talking and enjoying each other’s company, sped by like a flash of lightening and before I knew it, it was time for me to leave. I needed to get home before anyone could detect that I had gone AWOL. Yes, in my other life my time was strictly monitored and I had to account for almost every minute of my day. I needed to get back to my repressive, restrictive existence where I was trapped and enslaved.

As I got into my car, she gestured to me to lower the window. She put her entire head through the open window and kissed me. Just know, she said: I really do love you and even if we fight and I don’t want to talk to you for a time, it’s not really me. Never give up on me, always come back to me; promise me that, okay! She sounded quite adamant. I promise, I replied obediently; although inwardly to myself, I questioned her sincerity, as the vision of her fierce burning eyes full of hatred, were still fresh in my memory.

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 From that time on our relationship continuously followed this same pattern: Without warning she would get terribly angry with me; then, insults, curses and threats would follow, as she warned me to stay away; this would last for a day or two. After that, she would not talk to me for days. I would keep on trying to get hold of her but she simply ignored me. Then amazingly, when I least expected it she would suddenly answer my call or even better she would be first to contact me out of the blue, to renew our friendship.

I’m not really quite sure what triggered her loss of patients with me that prompted her to push me away; like I said, she was totally unpredictable. I’m also not sure what made her decide to pull me back in when she did. All I do know is that she had the power to do this to me, time after time; at will. She was a skilled puppeteer who had mastered the art of having complete control of her puppet; she knew exactly which string to pull to achieve the desired reaction from her puppet.

It is clear that for every action we perform there is a reaction; however it takes great skill is to know exactly which action will bring about a desired reaction. When it came to manipulating me, she had mastered this art and I became putty in her hands, she could mould and form me as she pleased. I had absolutely no choice in the decisions I made when it came to dealing with her, it was all up to her and she knew it. Loving her so unconditionally placed me at her mercy. It was never about what she could give me or do for me; I was simply blindly in love with her. Just being allowed to love her was my greatest joy, I needed nothing more.

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When I was intoxicated by my emotions and drives for her I could not reason and I was then powerless in deciding my own destiny. This was most of the time, however there were flashes when my pre-frontal cortex sobered up and I could think clearly and rationally. On one such occasion I had made the decision that enough was enough and that I had to stop seeing her. If I really want it badly enough, which I do, then I can do it. The pain of living this double life has become unbearable and if I must choose which life to give up, it has to be the life I was living with her. I have a wife and children and a job, this life must surely come first?! I told myself in no uncertain terms. I will meet her face to face and tell her that it’s over. I need to be a man and confront her, I need to take control of my life and make this nightmare go away!

So, this is how I planned it to go down: She had this weird desire to be Jewish and knowing that I was a Rabbi she asked me to help her convert to Judaism. I made up my mind that as a parting gift I would give her a book on becoming Jewish. I arranged to meet her and took her the gift. This time I did not take any of my clothing off, I just stood there in her room, fully dressed.

This is goodbye, I said determinedly, as I handed her the wrapped book. This is a parting gift for you.

What do you mean? She replied, sounding confused and looking down at the package that she now held in her hands.

I’m not going to see you anymore, it’s just too difficult for me, I have to stop. I answered.

She was clearly upset and did not like the idea at all; I was a good steady source of income for her and she was not prepared to let this slip away from her so easily. She thought quickly and in desperation and she reminded me of an agreement that we had discussed to help me keep my costs down, but had not yet put into practice:

Remember the deal we were going to make? You give me 3,000 at the beginning of the month for my sons’ school fees, so that the pressure will be off me and I don’t have to work so hard. Then I can spend more time with you and can come and see me as much as you like. Let's do it okay? It will benefit both of us. I really don't want to lose you, please?!

In my heart of hearts, of course, I did not want to end our relationship, I was in love with this woman, I loved everything about her and at this moment, hated everything in my other life that was pulling her away from me. Again, there was an enormous internal struggle going on inside of me. I needed her to make the decision for me and I was truly relieved when she did. Without giving it a second thought, I agreed to the deal and we shook on it. So, once again we were back on track.

I gave her the 3,000 at the beginning of the month as we had agreed; however  every time I wanted to see her in lieu of that payment, she always had a different excuse as to why it was not convenient for me to see her at that particular time. In the end I saw her once or twice that month and all in all it ended up costing me more than it would have without the deal. This must have been the worst deal I have ever made in my life and it only lasted one month as it was clear to me that she would never honour anything given to her in advance.

Once again, she had won and I had lost; she pulled the strings and I responded exactly in the way she wanted me to. She kept me firmly entangled in her web; there would be no escape at this time, the tiny window of opportunity to set myself free from her, was shut tight and would not open again for a while.

Would I have been able to stay away had she not forced me into the deal? I don’t know and I never will.

Chapter 17: Our first Fight

A part of me always knew that I could not continue living this double life of mine indefinitely; it was a disaster waiting to happen. The situation was like a balloon being inflated unrelentingly by someone’s puffed up cheeks. Soon the inevitable happens: The balloon bursts in the face its inflator, with a deafening bang; its flimsy latex walls unable to cope with the pressure exerted on them. 

My newly found happiness became intertwined with anxiety and depression. I was torn between two very different worlds - the world of my reality and the world of my fantasy; the world of my prefrontal-cortex and the world of my emotions and drives.

To compound matters whenever I saw her I had to pay! After all she was a hooker, this was her profession. To a hooker, sex is a commodity; it is not an expression of affection or love. This is the way they feed their families. There is an unwritten law in the hooker industry: If a man meets a hooker through the business, then he will always remain a client. This title never leaves you; it sticks to you like an infectious, incurable disease and stays with you for as long as you live. The consequence of having this dreaded label is that you will always have to pay for the lady's time no matter how much love the two of you feel for each other, a client, is a client, is a client!!! That’s it, end of story. I had met my lady through the business and therefore I was her client so whenever I visited her, even just to chat, I was required to pay for her time.

Yes, I understood that she had a family to feed and a huge house to look after for which she needed a good flow of income. She also knew how to spend money on herself and this too needed to be financed from somewhere. I was happy to help her, I wanted to give her money, but on the other hand to keep on seeing her regularly was costing me a fortune and beginning to strain my resources and drive me into debt.

My life was becoming unmanageable and so, on a fateful day, less than two months into the saga, things came to a head. We had made up to meet that day after I had finished teaching. In anticipation of our meeting I was so anxious that I could not concentrate on my teaching, the agony of my internal struggle was just unbearable. I felt like I was the rope in a tug-of-war, the two teams so powerfully strong that the rope begins to fray. The pain of this tear was so profound that I felt that only death could cure it and I wanted to die.

I excused myself from the class, telling my students that I needed to go to the library to look something up. As soon as I got to there, I texted her: I’m not feeling well, I don’t know if I should come today?!

I placed the facts in-front of her, hoping that she would make the decision for me. But I was not so fortunate; she replied: It’s up to you baby, just let me know what u decide ok?

What my heart really wanted was for her to say that she was expecting me and that I should still come. This would have made things simple; if she wanted me to visit I would have had no choice in the matter, to please her and fulfil her wishes had become my greatest joy. But that was not her way; one of her rules was that since I was the paying client I had to decide and I decide I did; I could not stay away, I felt compelled to see her and I texted her back:  Ok I’m coming, see u soon.

After school, with great heaviness in my heart, I drove to see her. When I arrived I found her wearing a short reddish silk gown with absolutely nothing else on underneath. The belt was neatly tied into a bow across her sexy slim waist, her body almost threatening to reveal itself from behind this scanty attire. My mind though, was too distracted to be aroused by this inviting sight, which must have disappointed her somewhat.

She was in a very strange mood today and I do not recall ever seeing her like this. She seemed confused and her laughter was uncontrolled and wild. When I questioned her, she confessed that she was still a bit high from a marijuana drag. This was the first time that I learnt about her drug habits, but again I was too pre-occupied now, to think about what this new revelation meant for me.

We entered her room and she lay on her bed, I kneeled on the floor beside her. I brought my face close up to hers, wanting to feel her warmth and arouse her sympathy as I confessed and pleaded with her: I’m so torn up inside babes, I love you and I want to see you so badly but I just can’t I don’t have enough money to keep this up, I have a lot of financial responsibilities these visits are draining me!

Expecting her usual compassion and understanding, I was totally caught off-guard when she sprang to her feet suddenly, her eyes burning with rage. She began screaming hysterically: Put my money for this booking on the table and get the hell out of my house, don’t ever come back if you know what’s good for you. I tried to calm her down but my efforts just added more fuel to the fire, she was now totally consumed by anger and I even sensed a deep hatred emanating from those piercing red hot eyes. Leave me alone and get out right now, don’t test me or you will be sorry, you will see a side of me that you’ve never seen before, you don’t know what I’m capable of, she continued to yell. I don’t want to ever see you again, get the hell out now or I’ll call the cops!

I had never seen her like this before; the angel I had come to love and adore had turned into a vicious a tiger. Totally perplexed and full of fear of the unknown, I immediately obeyed and made my way to her front door in a panic, feeling my pockets for my car keys as I went. I quickly climbed into my car and sped off feeling very fortunate to have escaped the clutches of this wild beast, unharmed and alive. This was a narrow escape, if ever there was one.

When I gathered my thoughts further and had more time to think; it dawned upon me that she belonged to a totally different world to mine. I now realised that I had brought myself to the threshold of a dangerous underworld and almost sucked in to its dark abyss, swallowed up forever never to resurface. Luckily I had escaped before it was too late.

Wow what a narrow escape! I thought, as I drove. What a relief! I mumbled again and again. This is exactly what I needed, she has done for me what I was not man enough to do for myself. This madness has now ended. I felt a wave of calmness come over me, a sensation that I had not felt for some time now, I wished that it would linger with me, for a while longer so that I could enjoy it. Thank God it’s finally over!

Yet, to my utter dismay, long before I arrived home, I began pinning for her again. I could not control my own fingers as they held on tightly to the little cell phone that I used only for her, as if it was some sort of magic charm that reminded me that I could still have a life. Then, as if they possessed a mind of their own, my fingers began punching the digits of her phone number onto the tiny keyboard with haste and precision, like those of a piano maestro playing his most beloved concerto, using only the memory imprinted in his fingers, from hours of practise. They no longer need to be commanded as to what they should be doing, by the conscious brain; in fact they pay no attention to its wishes as it impedes the fingers, by its slow intellectual thought process. By following only their own memory, they are able to produce a flawless performance, releasing the most beautiful and perfect melody into the cosmos, to grace its sound-waves.

Her phone rang, but she did not answer, instead she rejected the call. Frustrated and annoyed by the busy signal I was getting from her phone, I tried again and again and again……, but she was just as adamant as I was and she just kept on rejecting my calls.

Strangely though, once again I felt relieved; her behaviour simply reinforced the fact that our relationship was finally over and this pleased my cortex.

My feelings of relief and calm did not last long though; for as I arrived home, my anxiety levels started rising again. Desperate to feel normal again, I struggled to calm myself down, constantly reminding myself that this was for the best and that it had to end. I ate lunch with my wife as usual, battling to hide my anguish, she sensed that something was amiss; she asked me a few times why I was so deep in thought. Her probing annoyed me, I told her that it was nothing in particular I was just having a bad day, which lately, was not unusual. Her suspicion sent me further to the edge, why can’t she just leave me alone, I complained, all wrapped up in my selfish world.

As soon as I could get free of my wife’s cross-examination, I went into the garden and tried to phone the lady again; I needed to settle this matter to regain some sanity. But again she kept on cutting me off, I called again and again and again………

Then to my relief a texted message from her finally came through but it was not what I had hoped it would say:

Stop harassing me or u’ll be sorry, i will send my brother to ur house, so leave me alone, its over i will never see u again.

Yet once again I was relieved: So it’s over then, don’t take any chances with this woman; I said to myself, she is threatening me again and I should really take her threats seriously. I don’t know what she is capable of; it’s time to just leave it alone.

The next five days were torture, I wanted to call her so badly but yet I wanted our relationship to cease to exist and stay the way it was at the present moment, broken and with no reconciliation in sight. There was a constant battle taking place inside of me, I wanted to be with her but yet I didn’t. My mind kept on vacillating between two different thought patterns. I could not arrive at any clear decision as to which destination I should be headed. Only one thing was clear, I could no longer bear this double life.

On the fifth day my cortex gave way to my emotions; I texted her: “Can I call u please?” My heart began to pound in anticipation of what might happen next; then to my utter dismay a few minutes later I received her reply:

“Yeah” is what it said and was all it needed to say to put our relationship back on track!

Chapter 16: Caught in Her Web

I remember, as a teenager, learning about a certain brightly coloured female spider, who, with her dance-like movements, entices the much smaller and inferior male, into her sticky web. In his excitement, he accepts her invitation, knowing full well that once he enters her web, he will get so entangled, that it is unlikely that he will ever escape her clutches. But he simply cannot resist her and sadly for him, after he fertilizes her eggs, she eats him for dinner!

This too is my story:

It is safe to say that from the moment I met this lady I was trapped in her web. I, like the male spider, could not resist her. My free will was suspended, in the face of the humungous urge to spend as much time with her as I could. 

And I know, dear reader that as you read this you are probably wondering: How could he do this, what was he thinking? The answer to this question though is a simple one: I wasn’t thinking; I could not think! Can a drunken, poisoned man think with his pre-frontal cortex? No he cannot, because after intoxication his cortex is flooded with chemicals that don’t allow for normal brain function. His neurons cannot make the appropriate connections; the chemicals that allow these connections have been diluted by foreign toxic solutions that disturb the normal electric current that flows between the cortex’s neurons. 

And so, as a result of a dysfunctional cortex, unable to reason, I contravened one of my own cardinal rules: Never see the same working girl more than twice. I continued seeing this lady on a regular basis and the more I saw of her, the more irresistible she became. It was as if she had a magic spell over me, I became more and more addicted to her. Soon my mind forced me to believe that I could not possibly live without her for another day.

Addiction then turned into obsession - she was all I could think about. When I had to concentrate on a task that I was involved in, or on a lesson I was giving; I had to constantly struggle to pull my mind away from thinking about her. Without making a conscience effort my mind would simply gravitate back to thoughts of her, just as the needle of a compass instinctively spins back to point northwards, no matter in which direction you turn the compass in trying to distract the needle from facing northwards. Your efforts will be to no avail; the all-powerful pull of the earth’s magnetic field, is always going to win the battle in deciding the position of needle. This is exactly how she possessed my mind.

The affair I had with this woman went very deep. I was clearly suffering from a bout of romantic love. My aim was to get as close to her as possible and to share precious moments together. Naturally I desired her sexually, as she is very attractive; she is the type of woman that any man would want. However this desire played a very minor role, in the drama. Our relationship was not about sex, it was much more profound than that: I was in love with her and she made me feel that she really loved me back. I often texted her: I love u and she would usually almost instantaneously reply with: I love u 2. 
 

Her affection for me was magical; she made me feel so very special and desired. Her voice was calming and erotic at the same time. She was my lover, my mother, my sister, my friend, my confidant; all bundled into one. She was the woman I had fantasised about, perfect in all senses of the word.

I told her on many occasions and I believed this to be absolutely true: I have never loved any other human being on this earth more than I love you, including my parents, my children and my wife, even in the times that I was madly in love with my wife. I also believe that I will never love anybody else as much I love you. There was something so special about this woman that no words can describe how I felt about her.

In Judaism there is a concept that at the conception of the foetus, while still in its mother’s womb a voice comes out from heaven and declares: The daughter of so-and-so is designated for so-and-so, for they are soul mates. I truly believed that this woman was my real soul mate, as strange as it may seem.

I remember on one Sunday afternoon my wife wanted to go out with me and my younger children. We went to a beautiful dam where there are magnificent gardens with lush grass and shady trees whose leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. There are ducks in the water waiting eagerly to be fed by the dam’s visitors. It was very pleasant and a happy time for me knowing that I had a good wife and beautiful children whom I loved dearly. Yet I was waiting for my lady friend to respond to my text message. Her phone was off and I could see that the message had not gone through. I left my phone in the car so that it would not occupy my mind and that I would put it aside and concentrate on enjoying the outing with my family. Yet I was not able to do so, I made every excuse I could find to go back to the car and switch on the hidden phone to see if my love had returned my call, but alas there was nothing. I felt a deep emptiness in my body and soul; I yearned for just a word, anything, just to have some contact with her. The feeling was uncontrollable and I became very sad and depressed as if a huge weight was pressing down on me. I was grasping for air but could not get enough to feed my yearning body starved of oxygen and life itself. I could not enjoy the time with my family; I could not enjoy anything at all. I could not live, until I heard from her!

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I have questioned myself over and over, again and again: What exactly was it about this woman that had paralyzed my free choice and rendered me so helpless for her love? What was it about her that infected me so?

Was it that I could never get enough of her smile, her laughter and gentle touch caressing my yearning body? Or maybe it was the taste of her sweet kiss from those Angelina Jolie lips that I imagined to be like juicy grapes nurtured by the soft delicate rays of the morning sun, still damp from the dew of the night. It always amazed me how she always managed to keep the moisture on her lips so perfectly balanced; they never felt too dry or too moist. Also how she had mastered the art of knowing exactly how hard to press them to mine with such precision, with the pressure neither too hard nor too soft. She could always ensure that just a comfortable amount of her moisture would pass from her lips to mine, so that her presence would linger on my body, even after she had drawn away. Every kiss was an exhilarating experience. Yet it was not that that attracted me so powerfully towards her. There was more, much more, to our relationship, it is this that I needed to discover.

The answer to this question has eluded me. Do we ever really know why we are attracted to one specific person?

What I can say though is that she knew how to make me feel like a real man. It was not once that she had said to me after not seeing her for some time, that if I did not have time to be with her then that was okay, but she asked if I could just come around to her place so that I could quickly give her hug and a kiss, because she missed me so very much.

She knew how to make me feel wanted, needed, loved and desired, but most of all she made me feel special, not just special, but special to her and that she so badly needed to feel my masculinity against her feminine body. To feel needed as a man was an exhilarating experience that I had not felt until I met her. This was her magic, her spell…. 

My manly instincts demand that I hunt down and seek-out a romantic lover who would love me in return. However, in my case it was complicated by my shy nature and huge complex about my height, which always made me feel self-conscience and lowered my self-esteem. It was hard for me to believe that I would be desired by a beautiful woman.

The fact that I was married with eight children, proved nothing in this regard. My marriage to my wife was basically arranged and my wife was as desperate as I was to marry. In her case I did not have to conquer her female heart and mind to acquire her love. Being married to her proved nothing.

The love of this woman on the other hand, counted as a major victory in terms of romance. She was a hooker; her profession was only to provide sex but not true love. If I could win her love and convince her to give up her profession and her many men for me, then I had proved something to myself. I had proved that I was worthy; I had proved that I was a real man!

Indeed the harder she made it and the more obstacles I had to overcome, the greater the achievement and the more rewarding it would be. At least I would die feeling like a boy who had matured into a man. This challenge is what gave new purpose to my life, so much more than serving a God of the Jews who I could not relate to. At last I had found what was missing in my life: experiencing romantic love with a woman.

Not only were my animal instincts and drives satisfied by this newly found treasure, but also my human intellect’s quest for meaning, was fulfilled by this strange relationship:

Wrapped up in the impurity of the underworld of sex, drugs, money and deceit; I had discovered a pristine, powerful and unique soul of a very special person. From the first time I met her it became my dream and deepest fantasy to free this imprisoned soul from the abyss of the underworld that she was immersed in. I desperately desired to rehabilitate her and help her become the very special person I knew she could be. I told her many times that I believed that she could change lives. I witnessed how she touched all those who came in contact with her; she has this special ability to make everyone around her feel special and needed. 

It was true that she came from a terrible background of abuse and torture. She was illegitimate and was made up of a mixture of all sorts of races, colours and creeds. She was wild and untamed, yet sophisticated; charismatic, brilliant and beautiful. Like a wild leopard; the most beautiful and gracious of all the cats; allusive yet majestic, fearless yet stealthy and intelligent. I yearned to tame this leopard in a way that she would remain powerful yet tranquil and would stun the world with her beauty. This became my dream, my fantasy, my goal and my purpose from here on forward.

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