relationships ended in the same way.
Without a word Sarah quietly put down the
phone and ran to her room. Soon, the husky voice of Rod Stewart drifted out
from under her bedroom door, ‘ I don’t
wanna talk about it, how you broke my heart…'
It
was the same everytime Sarah broke up with a boyfriend, she would drown her
sorrows in Rod Stewart’s crooning voice. Crying for days, only occasionally
emerging from her room, her eyes puffy and red. Her pain and heartache soon changed to anger, “Who cares, who
needs him anyway,” she defiantly exclaimed as she entered the final stage of
boyfriend breakups - ‘Moving on.’
Knowing
this kind of sorrow could also lay ahead for me, I knew I didn’t want to follow
in Sarah’s footsteps - I wanted a relationship that would last. I didn’t want
to have to go through her despondency, besides, I didn’t even like Rod Stewart!
As
I watched Sarah , I thought it
might be easier for me to pack it all in and become a nun - like Maria in The Sound of Music but then again what
good did it do her? She fell in love with her employer and became a Step-Mum to
seven children!
Western
people went through this scenario many times sometimes never finding that Mr or
Miss right. Often, the only chance of finding a partner was through friends or
while out socialising, where strangers meet and try to find a mutual interest
in each other that would sometimes result in a second or third date. Couples
looking to become an ‘item’ or looking for love to last will eventually though
not always get married. Living together is sometimes preferred as they do not
wish to be bound by a piece of paper.
It’s the couple that decides on their life
together, no one else, their hearts rule, not their sensible heads.
Of course I had been on a few dates with boys
before but this time it was different. After spending time with Kishore, I knew
it felt right and as the weeks went by we were sure we had found the missing
piece in each other’s life.
Not
long after I started working at O.S.W. I went on a date with Lance. He drove one of the company van’s delivering the
office supplies. He was a tall, lanky guy with a mullet haircut and a tattoo of
an eagle on his arm. We had chatted a few times during work hours and had
decided to meet at Brandy’s bar one Friday night after work. I was hesitant and
a little anxious about the date, he was a nice guy during work hours but I had
never seen him in a social setting before. But the best way of getting to know
someone, or so I had been led to believe, was to go out for a drink. It soon became apparent that my anxiety was justified.
Arriving
at the bar on time I pushed open the door, a waft of cigarette smoke instantly
entered my nose. P ulling a face
like I had just sucked on a lemon I realised I could also taste
it in my mouth. ‘ Don’t dream it's over’ a
new song by the band Crowded House, softly played on an unseen stereo. My
attention was diverted towards a table in the corner, where
the sound of glasses clinking and especially loud laughter could easily be
heard above the rhythmic melody of the song. I could see the table was
jam-packed with a group of people who were not just having fun but were over-the-top
rowdy and were generally acting like juveniles.
A
thought flashed through my head, what immature pathetic idiots they were. My
eyebrows lifted as I took a closer look and realised my date Lance was one of
those immature pathetic idiots. I was just
about to whirl around to head towards the doo r but I was too late, Lance had already
spotted me and was heading in my direction.
I
apprehensively smiled and muttered, “Hi Lance.”
“Juuuuulllieee,
how are ya?” His words were slurred and his breath stunk of a mixture of beer
and ash. He’d had far too much to drink already and the night was still young.
Draping his arm heavily around my shoulders, he dragged me over to join his
friends at the table. Grudgingly, I
Without a word Sarah quietly put down the
phone and ran to her room. Soon, the husky voice of Rod Stewart drifted out
from under her bedroom door, ‘ I don’t
wanna talk about it, how you broke my heart…'
It
was the same everytime Sarah broke up with a boyfriend, she would drown her
sorrows in Rod Stewart’s crooning voice. Crying for days, only occasionally
emerging from her room, her eyes puffy and red. Her pain and heartache soon changed to anger, “Who cares, who
needs him anyway,” she defiantly exclaimed as she entered the final stage of
boyfriend breakups - ‘Moving on.’
Knowing
this kind of sorrow could also lay ahead for me, I knew I didn’t want to follow
in Sarah’s footsteps - I wanted a relationship that would last. I didn’t want
to have to go through her despondency, besides, I didn’t even like Rod Stewart!
As
I watched Sarah , I thought it
might be easier for me to pack it all in and become a nun - like Maria in The Sound of Music but then again what
good did it do her? She fell in love with her employer and became a Step-Mum to
seven children!
Western
people went through this scenario many times sometimes never finding that Mr or
Miss right. Often, the only chance of finding a partner was through friends or
while out socialising, where strangers meet and try to find a mutual interest
in each other that would sometimes result in a second or third date. Couples
looking to become an ‘item’ or looking for love to last will eventually though
not always get married. Living together is sometimes preferred as they do not
wish to be bound by a piece of paper.
It’s the couple that decides on their life
together, no one else, their hearts rule, not their sensible heads.
Of course I had been on a few dates with boys
before but this time it was different. After spending time with Kishore, I knew
it felt right and as the weeks went by we were sure we had found the missing
piece in each other’s life.
Not
long after I started working at O.S.W. I went on a date with Lance. He drove one of the company van’s delivering the
office supplies. He was a tall, lanky guy with a mullet haircut and a tattoo of
an eagle on his arm. We had chatted a few times during work hours and had
decided to meet at Brandy’s bar one Friday night after work. I was hesitant and
a little anxious about the date, he was a nice guy during work hours but I had
never seen him in a social setting before. But the best way of getting to know
someone, or so I had been led to believe, was to go out for a drink. It soon became apparent that my anxiety was justified.
Arriving
at the bar on time I pushed open the door, a waft of cigarette smoke instantly
entered my nose. P ulling a face
like I had just sucked on a lemon I realised I could also taste
it in my mouth. ‘ Don’t dream it's over’ a
new song by the band Crowded House, softly played on an unseen stereo. My
attention was diverted towards a table in the corner, where
the sound of glasses clinking and especially loud laughter could easily be
heard above the rhythmic melody of the song. I could see the table was
jam-packed with a group of people who were not just having fun but were over-the-top
rowdy and were generally acting like juveniles.
A
thought flashed through my head, what immature pathetic idiots they were. My
eyebrows lifted as I took a closer look and realised my date Lance was one of
those immature pathetic idiots. I was just
about to whirl around to head towards the doo r but I was too late, Lance had already
spotted me and was heading in my direction.
I
apprehensively smiled and muttered, “Hi Lance.”
“Juuuuulllieee,
how are ya?” His words were slurred and his breath stunk of a mixture of beer
and ash. He’d had far too much to drink already and the night was still young.
Draping his arm heavily around my shoulders, he dragged me over to join his
friends at the table. Grudgingly, I
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