Sometimes we think too much #3

(allegra)

Life is fair – I’ve always believed in that. Some things just come easier to you, some, not. Like how ugly people get really sincere, nice friends.

I guess I’ve always had an easy life. Born in a well-bred family, though only Dad was there for me, I had no lack of anything at all. Blame it on my grandfather, he opened a bank and then died of a heart attack. Guess banking is quite stressful especially when you are a womanizer like Grandpa. So I never really got to know him, mostly only through articles about how visionary a person he was. The Royal Port Bank in New Melalunia is still one of the top banks in mutual funds so, I get a decent monthly income from the estate, though I seldom touch it.

Being born rich doesn’t mean things come easy for me. I still had to study hard like everyone else. After we graduated, a few friends and I pooled together what resources we had to start a small café on the East Side of Harly.

The concept was good, we met and discussed about it for ages. There were six of us. And that was how it all started.

Mark was one of the guys who started the café with me. At first, I hardly noticed him. I never even had an impression of him. To me, he was there, just there. No one talked about him much, as he was actually a friend of Jeff, so we just left it as that. It was only much later, after the café had disbanded, that we got a little closer, then a little more.

So that was how it started. When a chapter closes, another one begins. And although life was good to me, relationships were never easy. I was happy enough to play a supporting role in any man’s life, to be a nice wife with beautiful kids. That was every girl’s dream: of a white garden wedding, and a happy family. Coming from an unusual family background however, did not bode well for me. At the very least, it made things difficult for all my previous lovers. Coming from a close knit community, I had no chance to fit into their average, white suburban middle class circle. For one, I was not purely white nor was I middle class. Thought I could pass for one on first sight. Unfortunately I used to fancy nice collegiate boys with a penchant for running under the sun playing hockey. So there goes. It’s nice to believe in love. Love is supposed to be unrealistic, where two people meet and realize that their lives are not complete without the other. But Life is not like that. In this essence Life has been unfair to me. For my privilege has brought me down in this area. Where money is concerned, most men would not choose someone from the upper class. I know things are changing now, and probably in a few years no one would care. But in my early dating days, everyone did.

The café had problems from the start. It was a great, simple concept, nice hot soups, and the usual scones, donuts, cakes and pies. With fantastic premium blends of coffee and tea. However, we had many issues with the staff and the location was simply too quiet. Well, all of us still made a bit of profit in the end.

Mark helped out the most, at the end. It turned out that he was fresh out from selling off his computer parts biz, and we were the ones left to close the café down. At that point in time, Emily was getting married, Jeff was buried in his banking job, and the rest just drifted away. I don’t even keep in touch with the rest now, only Kai. Kai was always there to help me. After all, we’ve been bosom buddies for years now. I remember that I’ve always cried on his shoulder for some tea and sympathy which he always gave freely, after my horrid turbulent relationships. After each one I vowed to stay away from guys, and I was doing quite a good job of it, till Mark came. And I was not looking for him, either. He was unconventionally nice looking, with a pouty mouth, almost too big but just alright for his slightly above average frame. His hair jutted out in strange angles, and he always had to put tons of hair products to keep it looking sane. I’ve always had thick, flyaway dark hair, thanks to Dad, so I knew what it was like to have hair with a life of its own. Even now I have to put at least three different types of products before setting out.

If I could live life over again, I wouldn’t have chosen this to happen to me. Not like this. Not a love like this. While the love and the emotions were pure, the context in which it was found was not. Call me idealistic, but I had always believed in love. True enough, it was a decision to continue on in the relationship. Was this decision made by me, or him? Sometimes in life when you make decisions, it is not in your control to choose how they turn out to be. Knowing the context, I should have closed the chapter. But knowing me, I just let myself go.


(to be continued)