Amaretto Amore

The similarity of amaretto and amoretto leads to the concept of "a little bitter love".The amaretti created by the amoretti were small biscuits, like love both bitter and sweet, and presented wrapped together in pairs like a pair of sweethearts.

-Wikipedia-

So I’ve been told I sound too happy in my excerpts. (Like it’s a fault???) I don’t think about it much, but generally, I really am one happy bunny. Nothing truly gets me down or keeps me down for long. I don’t let it.

Nothing except, my One Great Heartbreak. I hadn’t thought about it in a while, but a few nights ago, I awoke feeling 100%. No thoughts of the Rotten Ex, no thoughts of the Singaporean Slut to haunt me like they have for the past 3 years. I mean, surely I’m letting this drag on for far too long? People get over heartbreaks in record time.

He certainly did.

But I was wrong. That brief interlude has lead to the bursting of a long-holding dam. Now, I’m being bombarded every day by old memories, serving up fresh lashes of pain on a wound that should have been healed by now. I thought I’d successfully locked away the memories of that devastating relationship and mailed the trunk to Siberia.

However did it find its way back to me here in Malaysia, completely intact?

So what's wrong with me that I still think about this man? No one who knows either of us is able to tell me to my face that they think we belong together. He’s the direct opposite of me, and I don’t just mean the height! He’s reserved and will only speak when spoken to, and very like the real Mr. Darcy, speak to whom only he deems appropriate (public school educated tosser that he was!) I, on the other hand, have famously been described as "will talk to a wall if I thought it’d talk back to me". (That’s a direct quote.)

His idea of a night out is down to the pub for the footie them back home to the tv. Now I actually love football, and I actually understand it. (Obviously something to keep us together? Relationships have been based on much less!). But I also love doing the club circuit, the partying the dancing and of course, the drinking, till dawn.

I'm happiest in a crowd, at the centre of attention. The Rotten Ex was happiest when there was no one to bother him, to force him to be sociable. I’d turned down almost every invitation I’d received to go out, in my time with him, preferring to sit at home, in my PJ’s watching Eastenders, than to get glammed up and sloshed. I still cannot believe I lived this life for almost 2 years, and yet, to be brutally honest, I’d never felt so happy, or so fulfilled or content, in my entire life.

I think I gave my heart away so completely, that I still haven’t got it properly back. My emotions when it comes to relationships now are almost nil. I successfully hold myself back … but with no real effort. Take Dr. Dish – the old Vixen would have never let it go on for this long … certainly, would have never even gotten involved if there was no love. But no love was the safest route. As for Mr. Darcy – he’s unattainable, and therein lies the attraction. To be honest, if he turned up at my doorstep, professing True Love … I’m not sure I wouldn’t slam the door shut on him.

But with the Rotten Ex – walking down a street was an adventure. Shopping at Waitrose, picking out our dinner, was a pure joy. I looked forward to seeing him everyday, despite the fact we lived together. I almost always woke up with a smile on my face. To hold his hand still gave me a thrill. He made every romance novel I’d read, every cheesy Hollywood ending, every soppy love song ring true for me. He was my every wish … and I still cannot believe there was no Happily Ever After.

Forget a swinging social life versus nights in by the tv. Our connection went beyond that. We could spend hours just talking, exchanging ideas and views, laughing at the world, dreaming of a future. We were both literature freaks and would spend day’s just browsing bookstores (in different sections) One time on a romantic mini-break in Kent, we came out grinning from ear to ear at our finds at a second hand bookshop– he, with an ancient version of Chekhov and me with the Complete Works of Oscar Wilde. Now who else would’ve gotten that?

Above all, I loved the way he loved me. Just the way I loved him. Completely. I will never doubt it. Not then, not now.

He once memorably said to me "I love how intelligent you are, your ability to grasp concepts straight away. With the exception of the away games rule, of course!" (I can’t explain it; I get the offside rule with no problem, but have trouble getting my head round the away games rule.) That in a nutshell, summed me up.

You see, he gets me, the real me. No one would ever know me as well. I’d like to say I knew him inside out as well, but for the fact of how he behaved in the end of our road. I’d have never ever guessed he could be that cruel. But he was the Perfect Boyfriend.

Just a really Rotten Ex-Boyfriend.

My friends convinced me (as they had to, for what other choice was there?) that of course I will get over this, OF COURSE I will weather this storm and one day meet Someone who made me feel 100% more than He ever did.

3 years on, I’m afraid to say it’s not true. I’ve never come close to even FEELING again. And it’s just not fair. You see, I never believed love could die. I always thought you only fell in love once, that one time would be forever.

Amore para sempre. Forever love. We were supposed to love forever.

Flames to dust

Lovers to friends

Why do all good things come to an end ?

-Nelly Furtado, "All Good Things" -

I started writing to him, before the dam burst. I said "I get it now, I get how relationships end, how love doesn’t always last and how realisation sometimes just hits too little too late." But I’ve realised that I was lying. I still don’t get it. To my mind, if it ends, then it couldn’t have been love.

Right?