I like to think of myself as an artiste… Wait! Scratch that. I am an artiste, and with this realization comes the expectation that I should enjoy the fringe benefits that comes with the artiste-status. Unapologetic eccentricity peppered with a pinch of tardiness ( a form of cluelessness that is masked by an appearance of deep-thought). Above all this is the artiste entitlement to a muse, and not just a girlfriend (or boyfriend as the case may be). I decided to act on the latter, moving up from a mere girlfriend to a muse. The irony of this singular act was that, it eventually cost me my girlfriend.
It was supposed to be a simple lunch, but it turned out to be the straw that broke the back of the horse.
After downing the meal before me, I watched her as she gracefully picked on the bits and pieces on her plate. Sensing my focus on her, she looked up with a smile on her face. “What’s wrong?” she asked, and I hurriedly replied “Nothing”. We had been chit-chatting for a while when she asked me about my work – she knew all about the challenges I was facing as a freelance graphics designer. I told her about the bright prospects that lies ahead, the potential new clients, the need for me to always be at my best at all time (due to the over saturation of the design industry), and the fact that i need a muse, i need someone to constantly inspire me to do great deeds. I noticed the smile on her face broadening, but it was the words that came thereafter I didn’t anticipate.
“I thought that I inspire you” she said in an even voice. “I though I was your muse… huh. Guess I have been wrong all this while”. I had never seen her in this mood before, so i was at lost as to how to react. She wasn’t angry, but she had this stone cold seriousness. I was about to speak when she stood up, retrieved her handbag from underneath the table and turned to leave. I held her back, holding her right hand. She turned to face me; it was then I saw the tear (a single drop of tear rolling down her left cheek).
“I wish you all the best” she said, “Good luck as you search for your muse”, and she ran out of the eatery. That was it! That was how I lost my girlfriend.
Its been 8 months now, and not a day goes by without me replaying the event of that day in my mind, wondering what I could have said or done differently.
Though, it isn’t an entirely sad story, because ever since the break up, we have become the best of friends, very close, closer than when we were dating. And she has inspired me to do great things, beyond what I could have ever imagined. Funny thing is, I have this feeling I got what I wanted. I got my muse!