WITCHING HOUR

I miss being single. Well, I’m already single but what I’m talking about is where all three spheres of your life are single. Your body doesn’t crave anyone, your heart is 100% yours and your soul doesn’t have episodes of emptiness. I once almost achieved that, a beautiful week that was. Now before you get all judgy thinking “OMG! A week! I’ve been doing this for years…” Know I’m talking about total freedom, no pining over exes, no secret sighs at crushes, no what ifs at handsome strangers, no wishful thinking whilst watching the wedding show, nothing! You are akin to a robot with breasts. That’s the singlehood I’m talking about. Yet somehow men chose that very week to bombard me. I resisted stoically. Like a captain who refuses to leave his sinking ship in the high seas as cannon balls wreck each side of his beloved. Speaking of which, just how cool would it be if someone called you their beloved and meant it? Just a silly thought.

 Back to my ‘reclaim thy singlehood’ crusade, I lost thy path at my weakest hour right at the witching hour. The witching hour for those of you not in the know, is when the supernatural gains the reins in your life, when the ethereal clouds your very vision, when magic happens. You know what I’m talking about, I know you do. The moment when your skin tingles, from your arms to the nape of your neck, at the very whispers the depth of night brings.  When you listen to your inner devil who can tell you no wrong, so convincing they sound. Children hear the monsters under their beds and cower under their duvets. That’s the witching hour. Someone was lucky enough to have the witching hour by their side when we would converse. It didn’t help that he has an amazing body and voice, not to mention his height! I looked like a child next to him and that made me so happy (seal-clapping happy). His face isn’t something worth talking about, so this time it was a TDA {tall, dark and attractive}. I thought I could still be in control and the maniac in my heart must have laughed at my ignorant mind. The witching hour always wins. It seduced me for a few nights, and soon I was wrapped deep in its power. You will do what it wants; all the while making you think it was your decision all along. Highly manipulative, this out of world experience.

I lost my grasp on full singlehood so slowly I didn’t notice, only realized when it was too late. It was gone. I’m sorry, I’m talking in parables but I find it hard to write in black and white, I’m fanciful like that. I refused to trust what was happening, I kept waiting for the moment he would walk away, I’m jaded, sue me.  He didn’t disappoint, yet it hurt, which sucked. I guess I was thrown aback with how it all went down. He had become a common fixture in my daily life and somehow hope had begun creeping in that maybe he would stay a tad longer. I would get to know all of him in more ways than one and see where it would go from there. It didn’t work out.  I tried to fight it, stupidly I might add. I did humiliate myself in front of a bunch of my friends; even as I write this my head automatically hang itself in shame. My own phone didn’t even know who its owner was anymore because that call log wasn’t pretty. However don’t get it twisted; I had to try because I would never have forgiven myself if I hadn’t. Let it be known that I showed him that I cared. That’s when I finally accepted it and the next course of action was to forget him. I would go all Jane Eyre on him running away from his very memory in my bloody hippocampus. It was going to work damnit! It promisingly showed increasing levels of success except for one- the witching hour. This bloody hour still has his scents in its charms; it keeps me awake, making me dream impossible things, fantasies that keep me away from Pathology. I fail every time in my resolve to fight it, enticing me every day as sure as the hour hand creeps close to it. I’m disappointed for falling for it every time yet when the day breaks it seems like a forgotten nightmare. You know you had a fitful sleep but it wasn’t that bad, right? In fact the horror is exaggerated. You shake it off but when the day turns to dusk, you feel the familiar tugging at your being, it’s almost time. The witching hour is fast approaching in the horizon. You try to guard your soul, arming yourself with the necessary weapons: a heavy workload, mind numbing music, a funny series, anything to keep your mind occupied. Yet I fail, daily. I understand though, I have to take it one day at a time. Soon I will beat this part of the witching hour; maybe a nymph will visit me instead and show me how to dance gracefully from my soul. Like I said, I’m fanciful.

In the meantime the reclaim thy singlehood crusade is back on! It always begins with the first step of being happy. Be happy people! Don’t rely on people or objects to do it for you. Be happy just because.