I thought it time to finish the saga. I’m getting just as bored with it as you probably are. Also, I’m p’d off ‘coz a blarrie Tazz dropped me this morning. A BLARRIE 1.3l TAZZ. They have no respect I tell you.
Have a fantabulous day! Catch up laters
(This continues from Friday’s post, duhhh :-))
We’d been seeing each other a few weeks. My brother found out. I literally couldn’t turn my ass without him knowing what I was up to. As much as we tried keeping it quiet, someone told a friend, who told another friend who told OB. Mind you, he was working already, so how on EARTH people THAT old found out about us, heaven only knows. OB never told me who told him either. I was asked if I liked him…like DUH? What stupid question is THAT? Not that it mattered to OB anyways
He ordered me to leave Jase, “he’s a rubbish and he’s got lots of girls”. “You’re talking stront, OB. He’d never, he loves me?!!!” I told him. I knew he didn’t want me to get hurt, but I could take care of myself.
Yoh, OB took care of business alright – went to Jase’s house and told his MOTHER that Jase was seeing a child just barely in HS. His mother came down on him like a ton of bricks. Of course, I found out via letter. A dear Jane one.
WTF?!!!! I was LIVID. OB and I had a bit of a tiff. No one was going to ruin my life and take MY Jase away from me, he was MINE. It was MY life, en F julle almal! (a bit emotional, neh?)
So guess what next? Yip, another letter. This time from me to Jase begging him to take me back. We would keep it very secret indeed. It would be between the two of us (and my friends of course)
Back we were on the romance horse. All was hunkey dorey for another few weeks. But the rumours about him having another girlfriend or three kept getting more frequent. And it seemed like everyone just relished the idea of dishing the gory details to me.
I confronted him of course, and we broke up and made up because of this a few more times. During one of those spates, he dedicated Lionel’s “Endless Love” to me at one of the parties we were at together. I was so in-love….
Ok, I wasn’t supposed to be there. I’d made up a story of visiting a friend. Boet found out and merrily decided to forcefully remove me. In front of EVERYONE! I was so embarrassed. But our love prevailed. Until finally, I decided to call it quits. Funny enough it wasn’t his infidelity that decided it.
By then, he was in matric, and I was now 15.
Come September we went to a soccer game, whereafter he obviously wanted to go vry at some spot. We went. It was a secluded place, and I didn’t feel comfortable at all. There were many other couples there though. When his hands started roaming where I still considered “hands off”, he got upset. According to him he was “entitled” to my body. WTF? I was 15, not one of his effing stupid sluts who put out on the 3rd date? He called me a tease. I told him to sod off and take me home. He ignored me. Just walked off and went to sit and chat with some of his buddies. One of his friends eventually took me home.
And that was what finally broke the camel’s back. No amount of begging and apologies could get me back. The harassment from him got so bad, I had one of my gangster buddies “warn” him off. And that was the last.
Good riddance, I said, who needed to be forced into a sexual relationship you’re not ready for?! After the great Break Up, I got blow by blow accounts of relationships that coincided remarkably with our time together. I was shattered. It took me some time to get over him and start liking boys again.
I would meet up with him years later at another party. By this time I was about 20, much wiser and spunkier. We had really gotten into the party and boys’ scene. We were all about having fun.
We reconnected and somehow he thought we could hook up again. There wasn’t really anyone who’d caught my eye that night, so I thought, why the hell not? I just wanted a lekker vry (he was a good kisser after all) and afterwards, I said goodnight.
Him: Could I call you and see you again?
Him: Why not?
Me: Coz’ I’m not interested in a relationship or anything with you.
Him: Oh, am I not good enough for you now?
Me: You said it.
He was a bit pissed off. A chick telling him she didn’t want him. Yoh, bet that never ever happened to Mr Gigolo.
Ok, I had a BF – BooBoo and I had started seeing each other, but he was off studying in CT – and don’t be judgmental, do you wanna tell me he was not also having himself a good time with all those gorgeous CT hunnies? Ja, didn’t think so.
Mr Gigolo called me a tease (the second time in 5 years) – I laughed at him. He didn’t find it funny. People who revert to name-calling are pathetic and not worth my time of day. Anyways, SO WHAT?! … was my reply. I never said we would hook up again. He left.
He got my number and started harassing me again. Again I had to call in the gangster support. And that was the end of him. I had gotten closure at last.
He got married to the girl he denied having an on-again-off-again scene with in school. What was creepy though – he often used her to deliver messages and letters to me. What a freakin’ asshole, right? She must have REALLY been gaga over him. Like me.
Now he is a somewhat sweet, somewhat fond memory. I do not have any feelings for him whatsoever. Hence my crappy mood when I dreamt of him last week.
And that is the story of Dizzy and the Gigolo.