11. Poisoned Fruit

Looking For Heaven

That love ain't yours (Can't break my soul)
Tryin' to fake it, never makes it
That, we all know (Can't break my soul)
You can have the stress and not take less

I'll justify love

We go round in circles, round in circles
Searchin' for love (Round in circles)
We go up and down, lost and found
Searchin' for love

Looking for something that lives inside me

Beyoncé - Break My Soul

We were all taught how to love. Love is everywhere, almost every song we listen to is about it, plenty of books, movies, even James Bond has a girl and new love for each movie. We are to be thinking that this is our purpose. To find a match and then happiness truly could be real, because shared. I'm afraid however, that I was bombarded with this phenomenon since I was an embryo. 

When my mom was pregnant with me, she was a compulsive reader of harlequins. One after another, she was just getting divorced with her husband and I was the effect of her romance with some idiot she met at a party. Then, when I was a small kid, she was compulsively watching telenovelas. Mexican, Argentinian, Colombian. All of them, day by day. And if I wasn't playing with other kids outside, I was watching them with her and followed the brilliant plot: Handsome and rich guy falls in love with a poor, but very beautiful girl, and they can't be together until the last episode. I think it explains a lot, doesn't it?

I guess if she was reading, let's say, biographies of famous people, when she had me inside of her uterus and I was only a ball of cells and literally anything she was doing formed me into a human being, I could have a chance. If she was watching even Murder, She Wrote, when I was a kid and served as a sponge that sucks in anything happening around me to become a real person, I could have a chance. But no. I had to be programmed with this idea of love interesting only when dramatic and toxic, before I even started fully existing. One woman in the 90s was obsessed with shitty love books and love shitshows, so now love is all I can think about.

Ironically, as a person always driven by love and wanting it so bad, once I got it, I got confused. Maybe chasing the bunny is more important, than actually getting it. In Westworld there is one story that describes this case quite well. One family had a racing dog, greyhound, created and trained to run as fast as possible. When they were outside, the dog saw a small cat and was quicker than light. Acted fast, got to the cat and literally torn it apart. What happened next? He sat there confused. The dog had spent its whole life trying to catch that little thing, did exactly what it was created for, so now didn't know what to do. What do you do with a bunny you were chasing for so long, once you get it? I was confused, too.

Funny enough, I kinda' manifested what I have right now. No love, I mean. Sometimes, when I was cleaning the flat I lived in with Mattias, when I was doing laundry, folding the towels, changing the bed or going for a walk with our dog. When I was bored of our uncomfortable life, I was thinking what my life would look like if I was single and living in Warsaw, not my hometown Lublin. So many great guys, so many opportunities and parties. Oh, I imagined how much I would be partying with my single friends, going out every weekend, having fun with random guys coming home with me from the club or having walks of shame myself. I wanted to be free, I wanted to enjoy the best years of my life. Careful what you wish for.

So now I became a slut. Even though random guys do not matter to me at all, I meet with them out of curiosity and boredom. It runs in the family, it's in my genes, can't help it. My grandma had five kids, all of them with different guys. And when I was a kid, my mom had a fair share of lovers as well. What's more, my 13 years older than me sister was a true beauty and wherever she went, always got attention of men. Whenever she was taking me somewhere and as we were walking down the street, I could always see men staring at her, following her with their eyes. Always, anywhere we went. What can I say - what youth is used to, age remembers. 

Only that when I got what I wanted and lost what I had and didn't appreciate, it hurt. I was clinging to the past, suddenly I saw him as this ideal man of my dreams, thought I can't be happy again, I won't fall in love again and all of that. When I finally got what I wanted for quite some time already, suddenly I wanted to get back what I just lost and started strongly romanticizing it. Poor me, bad Mattias. Well, poor Mattias, because I also made his life miserable and now got to the point where I wish him nothing but the best. And not in a tearful Adele's way from Someone Like You. I truly wish him the best and hope he will find someone who could make him much happier than me, but most probably it won't happen because he's a Sagittarius.

I think it's normal to grief something that was a huge part of our life. And everybody is doing it differently. Dramatic, intense and over the top me chose this road. And suddenly it turned out I had to try and jump from one bad relationship into another. Then I realised my word is almost. I was in an almost happy relationship, then we were almost broken up for a long time. Then I was almost good when it ended, almost got another candidate to live in my heart, then almost got another one. Almost felt free, almost enjoyed what's happening in my life. Almost.

With meeting so many guys I realised another sad truth, that the only thing guys want from me, is sex. All of them in the last few months. They were never truly interested in my thoughts, what I have to say, who I am, really. No one is nicer to you than a guy who hasn't fucked you yet, of course, so they can pretend they're good listeners, they can enjoy my company on a night out, but what they truly want from me, is my body. Feeling like some fucking Malena or Marilyn Monroe, not that pretty, but still. It hit me when I went to the same gay bar where I took Valentin, this time it was some Finnish guy with pretty muscles and a big bulge. I got dressed up, put on some fancy shirt, pants highlighting my butt, pretty, shiny shoes. 

And when we got there, immediately I started to feel uncomfortable. Wherever I looked, I saw them staring at me. Any guy I looked at, kept an eye contact, until I had to turn away. When I was ordering drinks at the bar, I could feel their eyes on my back. For the first time ever I could understand what genetic winners (beautiful people) feel. It felt like I'm a piece of meat. That all I have to offer is my body and skills that make them loud in bed and carried away to the point where they treat me like a slut, spanking my ass or forcing my head down, pushing their dicks deeper in my throat. 

I could speak to them, talk about interesting topics, but it didn't matter. I could show them a good time on a night out, but it was only a pre-game for them. Ivan had a good time with me, but then partially got what he wanted and didn't need to come back for more. Valentin almost got it, then moved on to easier prey. And what I didn't want to give them out of fear of passion overtaking intimacy, seeing them as potential successors of Mattias, I gave way too freely to a bunch of guys that didn't matter at all. Guys that were interested in me for weeks or months, or completely new strangers. How to get rid of them if you're afraid of hurting their feelings and you are a people pleaser? Give them what they want, but also talk about yourself, be full of yourself and they won't come back. And lie on your bed fully naked after sex, smoking Iqos and being so confident, they get shy and embarrassed and can’t even look you in the eyes. 

Because the sad truth from the movie Fight Club is now real more than ever. People do not listen, they only wait for you to shut up, so they can talk about themselves. They simply wait for their turn to speak. And one of the simplest tricks for dates, to get someone interested in you, is to listen. Look deeply in their eyes and truly listen to what they have to say. So now I started doing the exact opposite of it, because when I was doing it with those two, it got me their attention for one night only. And when I was doing it to other guys I wasn't that much interested in, it only made problems for me, by getting them interested in me. So no more listening.

So now what I predicted finally happened, I was seeking it out and it found me. Bunch of guys around, I became everybody's friend. The octopus of my connections in this city and country, actually, was getting wider with every month, getting messages on Grindr from strangers: I saw you today in the city centre. My former dates hanging out together. Friend of a guy I hooked up with, trying to hook up with me as well. Turns out that after all, I didn't leave this fucking rabbit hole, but went deeper in it. 

Well I guess it's just what humans do, 

Hook up with other people until it all falls through 

And when it's over they go out and try and heal their pain

Hook up with another lover, do it all again

I'm not passing judgement on his sexual life, 

I'm passing judgement on the way 

he always stuck his knife.

Marina - Better Than That (slightly changed)

All the lessons, forgotten. All the healing, gone. Knives out, party time. But for different reasons than months ago, when it started. It’s not Mattias I’m trying to forget now. When it ended with him, I was wishing to have new and small heartbreak, so he wouldn’t matter anymore. It happened now, once again I got what I wanted. But since it’s summer, not ugly autumn, it’s easier. The most beautiful time of the year is here, linden blossoms and its flowers create smell so beautiful, it reminds us of years and summers gone by and happy memories gone with them. And new men all around me, trying to bite another piece off of me. I used them first, now they want to use me back, I guess it’s only fair. But in the end, every guy is just another one in a long line of men I screwed, another one in a long line of men I knew. They can taste me, until they are out of use. Until I meet a player better than me, get played by him and then try to forget him. Again and again. A vicious circle scented with bitterness and cynicism that shockingly found a way to my head, because finally I got tired of hope with nothing to hold.

Because they tell us how to love since we are kids, but they never tell us how to stop.