You Can't Have Your Cake

I was having dinner with Bobby at a pseudo Mexican restaurant that I'd been meaning to check out. The food was awful, the ambience worse still, but we had a pitcher of Margaritas that tasted like orange-sicles.

We hung out on a fairly regular basis, the frequency dependant on whether Bobby was dating someone at the moment. For some reason it was like couch time. I'd psychoanalyze him, and he'd pay for dinner.

(after 2 drinks)

"Do you know what Christmas cake is?"
"Like a Yule log? I'm not big on frosting"
"No, it's a Japanese expression for unmarried women over thirty."
"What, like an expiry date?"
"Yes."
"You worried about that? Guess you should be huh?"
"Shut up."
"I'm just kidding."

(after 4 drinks)

"So what are you at now? Princess number one hundred and two?"
"You asking if there's an opening?"

Bobby commodifies his girlfriends. He calls each one "princess" and bequeaths the "girlfriend" piece of jewellery (around month 6). Each time he starts out madly in love. The greater the hunt, the greater the satisfaction he takes from the eventual domestication. Then he gets bored. "She's such a good girlfriend. I still love her, but..." I take a note from his page and don't bother remembering their names anymore and call them sweetheart or cutie.

"Do you still keep in touch with No. 1?"

The infamous No. 1. He had come to Taipei with her and like most couples, they split up and she moved back home. They maintained a friendship over the years, and he'd update me about her even though I'd never met her.

"She's still in love with me. I'd think if I asked her, she'd fly over here in a second."
"Oh yeah?"

(after 8 drinks)

"She's like you know the last piece of chocolate cake at a buffet. I'm still checking out the other vittles, and maybe I won't get around to eating it, but at least I know no one else can have it."

"That's disgusting. If I ever woulda slept with you before no way now."

"Hey, easy there. Bitter? Party of one."

"Better than a party of two with you!"

"Whatever poet girl. Maybe she's the one who can't let go."

"Let me put it in a way that you'd understand. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. The question is, do you love her? 'Cause if you care about her at all, let her go man."

There was silence. Bobby ordered another pitcher. We were both getting drunk and the situation was on the verge of ugly. The conversation turned to movies, Halloween costumes, and annoying people.

Bobby hasn't mentioned her since that night. There are times when I feel like I should apologize. I have to admit that I was taking what he was saying personally and wondering if that's how my ex thought of me, as some type of leftover. One thing I would say for myself though, there is such a thing that is sweeter than revenge: letting go and never looking back.