Uh oh. Valentine’s Day approaches.
For some, this is a good day. A day of love, to love and be loved. For others, they’d rather bolt the doors and bathe in a bowl of blubber than be out where couples contour the streets.
I was more in the blubber bath these past few years. Though I didn’t exactly soak in it, I consciously chose to avoid the lover’s assembly outside. And it was all Colin’s fault. He was such a feckless Tail-Twirler.
I sobbed in memoriam.
I was so in love with this guy, and he with me. Or so he said. When we were together, it was magic. Problem was, Colin was also under a commitment phobia spell. It’s the age-old story. You’ve heard it before. And though stale, it continues to mature.
Here’s how it went.
It took us (him) a while, but after a year and a half of dating, we agreed to see one another exclusively. His caveat was Lola. That’s right, Lo-la. Poor depressed Lola. She was an ex-girlfriend, worked at his production company and a woman who needed constant care. Trouble, indeed.
At first, I consented to the Lola component. I’m all for men having female friends. But it didn’t take an omniscient force to warn me that little Lola was unfulfilled just being Colin’s buddy. She’d cooed at him one too many times, and in my presence. Then I swear I heard Colin humming, “Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.” That did it. Time to pull over and put the brakes on the Lola factor.
Colin wasn’t overly enthusiastic about the Lola boundaries request, but he promised to keep their relationship strictly about and at work. “Because you mean everything to me, babe” he said. Really, Tail-Twirler? Really?
to be continued...
