Mr Saudi and Mr Italy


Mr Saudi was short (5’5), could get away with being mixed raced and displayed severe signs of mummy issues. His father had passed away as a child leaving him as the ‘man’ of the house. The weight of the pressures of being a ‘man’ from the age of 10 had not only stunted his growth but had also produced a cavity on his shoulder that couldn’t even be filled with all the love in the world.


Just like the hate our countries of origins had for each other, Saudi and I often wanted to nuke each other. He was a hypocrite smothered in his Royal Oud Wood, but even the world’s most exclusive scents couldn’t cover the shit his presence exhumed. He insisted on going to Mekka for a month on pilgrimage and in what he believed to be the holiest place on earth, he had the audacity to conduct white collar crime. 



Despite his flaws, even until this day, I can’t deny that time spent with him was extremely fun. That’s probably why we dated and dated, tried and tried and we failed and failed some more. 
He became a dirty piece of gum stuck at the bottom of my shoes. He became tasteless and tough. Removing him was hard, so he remained in a stale state in my life until the removal remedy came naturally one day. 


It was the beginning of spring and I was brunch-ing with my favourite ladies. My  chair was touching the man adjacent. He absolutely loved it and attempted to make conversation in any way possible. It was only when Mr Italy laughed in time with me that I acknowledged his presence and gave him the attention he craved. He flirted and at the point when I retaliated, I knew Saudi was over. The ironic thing was that I didn’t even end up dating Mr Italy: he was simply the first domino that started a destructive chain reaction. 
I sat in my dark room that night and I asked myself: is this the right move? My gut nodded and that’s all that mattered. It was a truly upsetting experience, but he was the dead horse and I wasn’t in the flogging business. I texted him saying five words, then he was blocked and deleted.  It was clinical and in some way he was robbed of closure. However, I would argue that he got five more words than a dirty piece of gum deserves. 




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