A Heartbreak a lifetime ......

I have for long held that a man (can't speak for women) needs at least one serious heartbreak (of the romantic kind, inflicted by a woman) during the span of his life. This very desirable event derives maximum effect if it occurs at the onset of a young man's adulthood. If he gets more than one heartbreak, then certain things about the constitution of his character start coming to light. Of course, some people are visited by this mis-fortune severally, simply because they have this puzzling ability to genuinely fall in love several times in short spans of time; If, by bad luck, should a real heartbreak make your acquaintance when you are say 35, then you are in very real trouble. For one, your heart is not very good from all that drinking (and probably smoking); A goodly number of your brain cells have died as a result of natural progression of time, meaning that you are not as intelligent as you were when you were 28 (don't tell me about experience, its not the same thing); Your looks, well, don't command attention anymore.

Let me stop playing around and get straight to the point.

I was almost 18, starry eyed, wet behind the ears, when I got my first meaningful contact with girls. Anyone who has been to a single sex school can tell you that some people end up warped because of this social and psychological starvation. I enrolled into an obscure accounting college, just to while away some time before university, but also because I was becoming unruly and restless.
All the women were beautiful. Some were just spectacular.
God played one of His famous jokes; I, short, dark and totally unremarkable in every respect, a guy from shags to boot, hooked up with the cutest chic on the college campus. The circumstances that led to this event deserve an entire post on their own. This was huge, the passing of comet Halley fades into insignificance when compared to this.

For weeks on end I walked around college, dazed and confused, still disbelieving. I declared my undying love after only a day. I declared it everyday after that, many times a day.

On one fine Wednesday, in the harshest tone she could muster, she told me to disappear.
"Come again please, I did not get your last?".
She repeated her words precisely, forcing them out between firmly clenched teeth. And she chose a very opportune moment when there was quite a sizeable crowd thronging about; A guy, who probably thought I was hard of hearing, repeated loudly, slowly, in the manner that you address a 3-year old: Dude, -she-says-get-lost-she-does-not-want-you-anymore!
Aaaaaah! Wasn't I stung? Everything was so surreal. I was looking around, like a trapped animal. In my confused mind nothing coherent could form. Every protestation I tried dried up in my throat. Then she calmly walked off.

0.5, a man who had been held in lofty regard, was slithering on the grass, along with rodents and other earth animals, thoroughly humiliated, his heart ground to a fine pulp.

Pain. Borderline depression. Hard liquor. I was heading down, fast. I was in this perilous state for two weeks straight when something snapped. It is at this particular point in my life that applying logic and deduction to almost everything in life first asserted itself, forcefully. I asked myself a couple of really simple questions. And answered them as well.
Why am I suffering like this? Because a woman has left me.
Can I live without her? Noooooooooo.
Why not? I have very strong feelings for her.
So, are saying you are dead inside? Yesssssssss!
So, 0.5, before you met her, what were you doing? Weren't you living? (no answer).
Would you love to be rich? To be very intelligent? Of course.
Yet you can't. There are things you can't have, won't have simply because they are not yours.

And there it was, the answer. Crystal clear. She was not mine. She was destined to be with someone else because she could not get what she wanted from me. You can't keep them caged you know. You got to let them go because if you don't, they will still go and kick you in the teeth while they are at it. For the first time I was very calm. I was able to look back without fear or shame at people's mocking eyes. I could look at my former girlfriend as she strolled on the green expanse of grass with another man, and still muster a 'hello'. I had made my bones. I had become a man. To say that some pain was not there would be to lie; For therapy, I turned to my books and became an accounting wizard in short order.

From a bumbling idiot, I was transformed into a cool, dispassionate gentleman. A man of few words, great knowledge. Believe it or not, this now started drawing some girls towards me.
Did I say that this needs to happen early in life? That gives you a chance to recover. The next time I got hooked, I could see bsh*t from one mile away and offered advice as thus: Don't feel like you owe me an obligation; You can leave any time if for instance, you find someone who is more suitable than I am. I am OK with it. Cynical, delivered coolly and with affected aplomb.

From all this, many lessons have been learnt, and here is a sample.

i) 0.5 does not go after very beautiful women. He holds this unshakeable belief that they are just trouble. First, there always will be men hovering around her like sharks; Constant competition is never good, despite popular belief. Men have many wiles. They will get your woman. One way or another. Steer clear. If there is any trouble, be the one causing it. Go after other people's women, not have 67 guys after your chic. Jesus!

ii) Money has appeal. And let me be clear from the onset that I do not intend in any way to offend the women who read this blog. Put two guys who have roughly the same qualities; the guy with much more money carries the day. Chinua Achebe once wrote: You need petrol to light a fire. You get the drift.

iii) If she is out of your reach, leave her alone. I 'd rather be called a coward.

iv) It is very natural to get booted by a woman. Get over it quickly. Get back in the game. That stuff guys do where they try every damn bit to get back in the good graces of the woman then dump her for purposes of pride is just nonsense.

v) If a chic is playing hard to get, leave her alone. Don't waste time on some woman who is feeling hot, unless of course you are in the business to just prove you can get her. From where I stand, it is very simple. If there is a spark of some sort (sexual, physical, romantic), lets get on with it. We shall play it at its level. If it is plain good company that we make, so be it. If its just sex, poa pia. Its no use trying to morph charcoal to gold.

And I can't believe I have just let out all that garbage. I am becoming senile. Nice day.