complete

What else should one be in love for? I, like most people is on the hunt for that special somebody. I would be lying through my teeth if I fall into a trap of thinking my life is complete. In trying to fit in with the who's who, I started belittling every other human being. I forgot one thing, we were all born with the same qualities which we drop like a hot potato as life gets harder for us. I love my girls so much that gay rumours to I, have become nothing but a smoke-screen. Before you start getting irritated about the fact that, you aren't sure of what I'm harping on about, I used to date a lot of partners but, not most of them makes me so complete like Dominic.

Shoosh! Here he comes and I believe we dont want to give him a wrong impression about our overall behaviour.

Hi loverboy, where on this earth have you been hiding?

"Did you miss me?'

Yes, yes, yes,yes! I shudder to think what I would become in life. Forget about the law of detachment crap the learned talk about and give me a kiss.

Seconds later.

"I've never felt like this before,'' he continues. "My mother who'd have none of this. Excuse me, she doesn't believe you should be given our surname to wear above your head.You're my tiara, I mind not you resting above or inside my head to make me crazy. Do I sound crazy?''

No. Not any of us does. That includes your mom, he-he!

I wish I could keep him before me for quiet a bit longer. There he goes. He gave me a peck on a cheek. Did you see that? I know you did. I sometimes feel like I have to check your concentration levels to find out if you really dig me or all that you're interested in is; hear me tell the world how wonderful you all are. A person who came up with a hairpiece idea thrills me but, not like the inventor who came up with a plated head concept. I hope both of them have patented their ideas before; we rock them on. I rock ideas, period.

His cologne makes my eyes melt a bit. What would I tell Genevive. She and I are like a nail to a finger, a sourcer to a cup, saliva to a tongue. Need I say more? Damn I am beginning to sound more of a drama queen, more of a queer but, hopefully, still romantic. I like my girl's head structure. It is like mine; ostrich-like.She used to say to I; "we're like machines, let's have fun for tomorrow we die."

Indeed! She is dying a slow, lonely, death. I tipped her not to leave Elliot for another man; Anderson. Why can't we stop being stubborn in love for a change? I ask her the same questions over and over again. Then I catch her on my hubby to be's chest on my way from work. Outside, the rain is drizzling, birds are chirping, men are whistling at stunners trying to use their melodic tones to greater effect and I, regret the day I introduced her to him. I don't know where she gets an idea from that we share everything including body fluids. Kisses I hand her whenever I see her has surely given her a wrong idea. Like when we were drunk and frech-kissed in full view of party people. Her mouth is so sweet if I didn't care what the community say, I would have opted for her over Dominic's teary cologne. Both of them should get their heads right if they would like to roll with me forever.

I go to his home to renegotiate he coming to sinfully, live with I for a while. His mother is teary eyed. I lie to her.

Its I Genevive, open the door for me.

"I've heared all of that hogwash before,' she replies. "You're homo Juliana. Get out of my front door and yard now or I'll call the cops on you.''

Gee! I step on my tippy toes and lay on her front lawn  instead. I was here when they manicured this trash. It is so lush and perfect that reading a chicklit wouldn't be a problem. I slide my self under the humungous garden umbrella and echo to myself; home sweet, home.

Not long. A car revvrs alongside house number two oh eight. Its him. I got to hide. What for? Damn! I am a woman not a girl. I rummage my shoulder bag. My lips are now oiled. Purrrfecccct.

He sees me. Shrugs his shoulders. It is all clear; she tearfully called him and complained about the trick again. Shocked? There is no need to. That is how she calls me over and over again. I have heared it all before. Go wash your dirty mouth. I never reply to her words, her disliking of me, never. I have her son wrapped on my middle finger. Our big day is around the corner. My best friend has disappeared since my lover and I french kissed before her and curious onlookers at her thirty first birthday party, at her late grandfather's front porch. I kiss her all the time, almost every day. See, more than my man.

I apologise to his mother for lying.

Sheds a tear.

I give here the elusive hug. I thank her, after a brief chat over tea and cup cakes for allowing me to be her son's guide in love. She is suspicious of my intentions though, of stealing her son before our big day. I am a human being and can't avoid getting it on even if it means carvorting for a while before I get to say my vows before all of you my honourable people.

My father and I walk hand in hand. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, the Cathedral Church is bursting at its seems. I feel butterflies taking off within me. i wonder if I should choke on these tears. I would mess my make up. I take a deep breath, smile a little. There I see Genevive. She is the bravest girl I have every crossed paths with. If it was her, I wouldn't subject myself to such a shame. Losing a man to my best friend at my thirty first party and still feel obliged to give them my blessings. He puts a ring on it. I wink at my lady, G.

I hope he doesn't mind to occassionaly share her with me. If you know what that means.