The same hurtful experience

I read Emer's blog about the brooch and the girl. Don't worry about it. If you think that's pathetic, well I guess I'm as pathetic as you.

What a coincidence. It's funny in some sort of demented way.

This Tuesday, while I was cleaning my CD rack, I came across 2 CDs that I intentionally buried into the deep recesses of my bookshelf. These are the 2 old-school RnB CDs that the X from New Jersey shipped during one of our anniversaries.

She gave me several CDs - collectibles from Broadway, South Border, Gary V's Interactive, etc., but I hid the two CDs in particular. They have the two songs that I swore not to hear again - ever. Not in this lifetime! The songs reeked of vows of fidelity, love - yada-yada-yada - the usual shit that I am very cynical of.

Fidelity my foot! One weekend in Atlantic City and she fucked this girl whom she said looked like her nanny!

I don't know why I still cringe at the sight of those CDs. I didn't want to touch them, too. It's like I'm scared that it would burn my fingers and the heat would shrivel down my resolve to loathe and hate her for as long as I live. And for as long as I can recall how she was capable of hurting me.

I surprised myself that time, too. I didn't know I was capable of feeling that tremendous pain. It felt like it was growing inside me, like it's going to devour me anytime that I allow it.

Oh well. I didn't have much choice to but to pick up the CDs. I brought them with me to the office. I lent them to a friend who's also into ghetto shit music.

When she returned them to me, I mustered enough courage to play them in my discman.

First CD, first song. Hmm... not bad. Then came the second, 'til I was able to finish the entire thing.

Twasn't that bad at all. In fact, I didn't feel anything. No twitching or thub-thumping on my chest. No nothing.

Though I'm still not complacent. One day, she will be back. Hell, I'm dreading that awful day when I would have to face her again and pretend that I don't feel anything anymore.

I know I would. But it's for me to know, and for me not to let her find out.