21.

21.

Annah had a fun evening with Dave last night, he told stories, she  told a few. She often found her stories got interrupted, but she was beginning to  let go of the need to be heard and understood  more and more, because she knew that Dave preferred to hear her thoughts through reading her writing. Annah indulged in a too long lie in, hearing the gleeful screams of people jumping into the sea as the sun came up. She forced herself to lift her head. Marvin had been licking it for the past ten minutes, doing a great job as an interactive cat alarm clock. Annah had shit loads to do. She knew she would have something to look forward to later today, seeing her friend and enjoying long girlie chats evaluating their lives and putting their worlds to rights.

She loved her long indulgent mornings of self pleasure. Losing herself in a fantasy world where she could have or imagine anything she wanted. After bringing herself to climax she would lay resting,  reflecting on the conversations from the night before, mulling words over in her head, trying to make sense of things.

A  theme was coming up in her life at the moment. 

I am the Breadcrumb Girl, she thought.  Gratefully accepting the tit bits that men offer and convincing herself she was  special.

Dave had originally told Annah that he had been faithful to Mandy for 13 years and it was the first time he had done this. Last night,Vodka revealed this was not the case. Affairs were commonplace in his relationship with Mandy and she accepted it as part and parcel of who he was. Annah learned that this was not the first time he had fallen in love either. There was another woman, whom he had been in love with since school. He  bumped into her many years later at a school reunion and things got heated.  So in love with her, he went all the way to Berlin, to help her separate from her unhappy marriage to her husband and secure her  kids in new schools. I wonder how many others there have been, Annah wondered.

She liked  to keep the fantasy running that she was special. The awareness that this was just a delusion and mechanism for self protection was growing, taunting her with the truth that it was more likely that she was just another notch on the bedpost, soon to be forgotten once she had lost her allure and shininess of mystery and new encounters.

.

She was grateful that Dave was following through on selling her old junk of a car. I’ll be grateful for the extra cash, she thought. She could feel this chapter of sexual attraction and romance coming to an abrupt end. She felt sad but she knew she had to push it away. I can’t afford sadness right now. I have bills to pay. 

So who is the Breadcrumb Girl? The Breadcrumb Girl is a girl who has a concept of the fact she has worth. The concept does not translate into the reality of her day to day life. So afraid to put down boundaries or make trades the way other women do, not wanting to feel that her love is conditional, she meets every new friendship and lover with her heart on her sleeve, giving all of herself away, without asking for anything in return. As she becomes more and more comfortable in her own company and space, she is starting to realize that if she continues in this way, it will be the Mandy’s who are luxuriating in early retirement whilst their partners fill their savings with gold and she will continue to be the girl men go to for good sex and conversation, leaving before the night reaches its end, as she wakes up alone in her bed having satisfied her lover so that he can return to his relationship afresh. Reaching for the laptop to continue her work, towards the bills she has to pay with no one to share them. she knows, when the going gets tough,

“No one will be here for me”

She has fallen into this habit  time and time again, each painful ending bringing a renewed sense of determination that she will only accept love and commitment from now on, only to give up once the loneliness of waiting for this impossible fairytale sets in. Residing to herself that 

‘It’ll be different this time’ ‘ I won’t feel the pain’ ‘I won’t get attached’ 

She knew the score of an affair, but that doesn’t mean she didn't like to break out of its rules and start mixing up melodies in her head that played a more romantic tune. She fantasises that she is unlike the other women Dave has had affairs with, that she is special and unique, and she does this with every man she gets intimately involved with, trusting that he will see that she is different from the other women, more intuitive, more open, more understanding, more into sex, a better match for the future. But the fantasy is just a fantasy and if that were the case, she knows she would be the woman men travel all the way to Berlin with or the woman men believe in so much that they pave their future with gold in return for  their partners loyalty to them. Actions speak louder than words. The Breadcrumb Girl thinks she knows this, but to know and not to do, is not to know at all.

I must have a stupid button, she thinks. Either that or the belief that it would even be possible for someone to love her is really not something she believes possible at all. In this case, choosing the affairs makes sense, because this way, she can prove what she already knows; she is impossible to love, and even more impossible to commit to. She understands it. She is odd afterall. And no matter how well dressed, educated or good in bed she is, there is a whole world of women to choose from. Women with bigger tits, women with better kept emotions, women who are more predictable, women with less trauma, less drama, women who are more accepted in society, who make less noise, women who listen more and talk less, women, women, everywhere. Endless choices. And of course women who haven’t shaved their hair off and are preferably blond.

But Breadcrumb Girl knows she has done the blond hair, the pink hair, the long hair. It might be the excuse. I just have the wrong hair. But she remembers when she was blond it was the same deal. She was still just the Breadcrumb Girl, listening to men waxing lyrical on how beautiful and interesting the other woman that they’d fallen in love with were or are.

She knows that she has to change it. Last night Dave was excited. He came up with an idea to keep her in his life. He was inspired by her writing.

“You must write my book!” he said

Dave certainly had some colourful gangster stories to share of his time in London.

“When I hit the jackpot, with my next deal, you can be my ghost writer! We can go out to restaurants, I can share my stories and you can write them! Do you think people will know that there’s something between us?”

Annah started thinking about all the ways she could dress to throw people off the scent; lesbian geek now easily achieved with her shaved head, business boss girl…

Going to restaurants was part of the perk for Annah. For a few hours she got to pretend that she had a man and this man was all hers. It made her feel special. 

What’s in it for me? Annah thought but didn’t voice. She was  getting tired of playing ‘let’s pretend’. When will this actually become real? The delusion was starting to wear off. She was ready to face the truth. Men took what she offered because she asked nothing in return. Why pay when you can get it for free?

She was used to playing the bit part. She had no idea how she could transform into the lead role. Was she  confident enough to admit what she wanted? She wanted the dream. She had bought herself out of the Disney dreams as much as she could, but she still wanted love to be real and attainable.  She seemed to come undone everytime she believed whatever story  men spun out. A few of Dave’s stories were not adding up. They weren’t matching the original story that he shared. The one about this being his first affair. Which means maybe the other things he said weren’t true afterall ….all the certainty was now one big question mark….

If she stopped pretending everything was OK, she would have to drop all the illusions, all the fantasies, and all the countless hours spent imagining real life romance in her head, and accept the fact that life’s a fact. She didn’t know if she could do that. The very thought of it made her look towards the fridge in search of Vodka. A lifetime of sleep looked appealing. Maybe someone would wake her up when the world had something better to offer. She couldn’t be sure if she accepted the truth that she was alone if she would have the motivation to get through another day. She loved her work but it depressed her how much of it she had to do in return for just enough to pay the rent. She had already spent this week's allowance on shoes, convincing herself that she would boost her appeal if she just had the right shoes. The right shoes, the right hair, the right job, the right conversation….Annah wondered what it would feel like to feel loved for who she was regardless of all these external conditions. Even the lustre of new shoes lost their sparkle once Annah reached the counter. The shopkeeper had been getting migraines from the covid masks she was forced to wear all day.

“It’s store policy. I have to work less hours, it’s making me sick.”

Annah felt guilty for complaining about her shopping experience.  Trying on new shoes with plastic socks wasn’t exactly Annah's idea of fun retail therapy, but it was nothing in comparison to working all day behind a hot sweaty mask.

Her shiny new shoes didn’t feel so shiny. Annah decided to buy herself flowers and chocolates. The flowers got left at the back of the conveyor belt and the cashier hadn’t noticed.. She only noticed in the car as she was pulling away. Stopped to check the receipt; she hadn’t been charged. No point going back. They were probably too expensive anyway. 

Dave was in a good mood. He seemed to have come up with a solution to have both cakes and eat them. The loving affection of his long term companion, who will stand by him thick or thin, despite his affairs. And the affections of this younger woman who he can pour his stories into, with the satisfaction of transforming some of his colourful past into a book. He also got the added bonus of fun company and sex, without having to put up with the day to day requirements of a relationship, like tending to Annah if she gets sick. 

Annah loves the feel of his big warm arms and hands around her body. It makes her feel protected. She loves the way he gets excited and at times emotional as he shares his stories, and she feels special that it is she to whom he shares them. She doesn’t want to entertain the idea that she might not be the only one, she’s too vulnerable to pop the fantasy right now. Too many were popped tonight, she can stomach that one another day. She needs at least one proof that she is special. 

She won’t entertain the idea either that her Conversations with God are actually just a mad woman talking to herself. Her heart is too tender for that, and she knows if she were to break that fantasy life might feel too disheartening. Annah was used to living in a fantasy world in her head. At her most sentimental, she dreamed that after lockdown her father would surprise her with a visit. She knows  he wouldn’t come without her mother, and she also knows that visiting her sister or the grandchildren would be the priority and that by the time they come round  to Annah, it will be the case that there’s ‘just not enough money’ ‘ maybe next year?’

.

OK, Annah agrees. Her face muscles raised in a positive accepting smile, while her insides curl into a ball and go to sleep like a protesting teenager.

Maybe next time.

She knows her friend Gabriel has her back. This week he sent her money for her video editing subscription and some extra to buy food. She doesn’t know if she deserves him, but his loyalty to their friendship and the way he seems fascinated to study every facet of her personality, pleasantly surprises her. There is someone out there who sees her. In total. He sees her strengths, he sees her weaknesses, and he shares them with her, lovingly cheering her on, always her eternal cheerleader.  

If only there were other men who celebrated her the same way.

Maybe one day.