Take the plan, spin it sideways… Without you, I’m nothing at all

It’s time to break the silence! Regrettably we have been a bit quiet here at Ok, to begin with… I hope you will all understand how busy life can sometimes be, and how the days just seem to mesh into one big blur. There have been vacations and numerous other excuses for our laziness – so I’d like to share something with you. This is one of my few attempts at fiction, a style of writing that has been interesting me more and more in recent times. Enjoy. :)

Dear Aaron..

Do you even remember what we shared together? Oh, the times your name has silently escaped my aching lips. I spotted you across the aisle in the hardware store today, Aaron. Picture me, please. I am standing foolishly alone, perusing the seedlings I can potentially purchase to give my balcony a small slice of life. You, on the other hand, have a power tool in your cart, and a gorgeous blonde woman under your muscular arm.

Oh, the pain. I became uncomfortable inside my skin, even moreso as your eyes scanned the aisle and slid right over me; not even the slightest sense of recognition. September 25, Aaron, it was only four months ago. Don’t you remember?

I was dressed to kill that evening, the evening of a girlfriends hen’s night. Somehow, I had wrapped my short and entirely untoned, pale body into a torquise halter neck evening dress that even made me look okay – at least combined with the killer Louis Vitton stilettos that had been hiding in the depths of my cupboard for so long. Even before our drunken bodies found each other on the steamy, crowded dancefloor, I had promised myself that I was going to do something completely different and have a fun night out, for once in my life. It was working out quite nicely, many thanks to my fantastic friends Bacardi 151 and Lemonade. However, keeping up with my party animal girlfriends certainly proved to take its toll on my sense and sensibility.

You bumped into me, Aaron, and together we spilt your beer onto the already stained floor. I fell in love with you as you smiled, and apologised. You smiled at me. Your alluring brown eyes, and your sexy mouth, all perfectly enclosed in that ever handsome face that is you. I knew you were the one, even before I took the time to check you out, so to speak – and fully appreciate your tall, lean athletic physique, all dressed up in a pinstriped suit. Heaven in a human.

As we began talking, the kind of small talk that happens in broken shouts over 120 decibels of typical dance music, you told me that you were indeed Aaron, and you had been out for a work related dinner for something formal. Or something… I don’t remember, exactly. Bacardi and music combined with the beer you had so kindly bought me in apology may have possibly stunned my memory temporarily. But we had a mutual agreement that the music was absolutely terrible, and that the beer garden outside seemed like a much more apt place to get to know each other.

I do remember noticing the size of your pupils, and the way you couldn’t seem to resist chewing down on your bottom lip when you weren’t talking. You talked a lot, even more than my work colleague Jim, who annoys me to no end. But your conversation seemed as intense as it did shallow, and combined with the sweat lurking on your handsome brow turned me on even more. I fell in love with you, Aaron. Perhaps I was too drunk to have a concern; I just knew you had to be my man.

Frumpy old Bella, nearly 30 years old and without a proper life to call her own, or a happiness that she can readily succumb to. All she does is work her boring accountant job, cook herself boring, bland dinners, tune into Neighbours at 6.30pm and then walk her six year old Collie cross for an hour every evening. She doesn’t even own a car. What could you ever find interesting in her?

I have to tell you one thing, though: Beer and Bella do not like each other. Do you remember how I vomited on the ground between us? Soon after, that angry bouncer picked me up under my arms, and kindly but firmly escorted me out of the bar and into a taxi. Freaking god damn! I screamed. The love of my life is in there and I’m going home?!

The next morning arrived with a horrible fever and a pounding headache. I must shamefully admit that it took me a few minutes to remember you, Aaron, and for this I apologise profusely. I realised exactly why I fell in love with you though; my beer glazed memories reminded me just how gorgeous you really were, and I knew for certain that you gave me the time of day in that horrible, nasty youth-filled nightclub. You sat with me, you bought me a drink… you even held my hand!

Do you realise, Aaron, that I went out again last weekend, to the same bar, and you weren’t there? I had my eyes open for you all night. There was absolutely nobody I can compare to you – the only person who looked sideways at me was the lady who helped me up after I’d tripped over a bottle and put a very embarassing run in my tights. I could only stomach two fruity vodkas before I didn’t want to be out anymore, and I sauntered home at a very mere, very weak 11pm. Old Bella, she fails again.

You and your hot blonde mistress make your way past the seedlings section of the asile – past me. Past stupid old lovesick Bella. I watch the back of you as you make your way to the checkout, and ever so gently kiss your lady friend on the cheek as she pays for your big, mean and sexy power tool. We shared something, Aaron. I don’t care that I am unaware of your last name, and that you no longer seem to have any idea that I exist in this world… we shared something beautiful that horrendous evening four months ago. Something in your plate-sized black pupils told my alcohol-addled brain that was happening. And then all of a sudden, it wasn’t…

And poor old Bella no longer existed.

Aaron, it was my first night out in almost three years, and it was only because of the ever persistent begging and pleading of my friends… who really aren’t my friends. Thinking about it now, as I gaze at you walking calmly through the hardware stores exit point, I realise that these girls are just young and ripe party animals who keep me around to remind them of their eternal youth – who wants to end up as old and haggard as Bella, anyway? I am going out again, tonight. This time with an older, more mature girl from work. Please come out, my love. I would kill myself if only it meant I could see you again.

Forlornly, I chose the coriander seeds. I don’t even eat coriander. But maybe you do, Aaron. Perhaps, maybe, just possibly, I could conjure an amazing Indian curry and use these very coriander seeds to fertilize its very essence for you, and even your bombshell, if I must?

Please remember me, someday. I love you, Aaron, Mister love of my life.

xxoo Bella -
Jan 29.