You grow up thinking love fixes everything. But it doesn’t.
You fix you.
G waved her doobie at the imaginary audience around her in her Castle of Joy, what she named her struggling house. She’s dressed in a kaftan, heavy-lidded eyes imagine herself to be a witch of sorts. A goddess and then she just imagines all the munchy food content in her house and is subsequently unsurprised when she remembers there’s nothing in the house. G contemplated the line, savoured it on her tongue and giggled to herself, ’you are so wise G.’ She grabbed her phone and threw it down again. Shaggy was out and at that moment all she wanted to do was be with him, even if the closest to him would have been through a phone.
Ask her friends ask her colleagues, ask her family, ask her people-Everybody knows Shaggy.
She had met him for the first time at a get together in her house. They were celebrating their First Saturday in the Castle of Joy. They would be G and her elder sister, let’s just call her SisterG for convenience sake. SisterG was the perfect elder sister; she would smoke with you, have a brutal opinion about everything you and of course vehemently hate any man who comes into your life. ‘On Principle Only.’
The house was named such as on the first day they moved in, the first thing the two sisters did sitting in their struggling flat on a tiny, narrow cot surrounded by their luggage was roll a hash doobie and so the house was christened. ‘The Castle Of Joy you shall be.’
He had to bend in to enter into the charmingly crumbling flat they had set up already. SisterG had thrown a mini party with an old friend of hers, who brought along two of his other friends. Shaggy was one of them. Suzie, our friend was quite a tall man himself. I didn’t expect a taller, bigger man to walk in behind him.
Gruff, scruffy he brought his own beer to the house. G bullied him into a roll-off with the other friend who was there. Shaggy won it hands down, he rolled quick and he rolled beautifully. SisterG was in her element that day, her charisma lit the party. G sat back and would quip some funny, awkward line in between the conversation. Shaggy would gruffly say something serious and straight-forward, his contribution to the conversation. He sat back too.
They started talking amongst themselves, G and Shaggy. G had her heart broken last month, that night sex with him was the farthest thing from her mind. She asked him to help her find a job, he instead went on about how much he loved his job. One thing you must know about Shaggy at this point of the story is that at that very moment in time, the boy had zero game and zero timing.
SisterG who incidentally can’t stand him now, was the one who made G exchange phone numbers with Shaggy. First few times he hung out with them, he would keep complimenting their bathroom. A tiny corridor of a bathroom, with walls broadcasting the neighbour’s lives, a chunky, contraption of a commode, a concussion waiting to happen shelf right above the door-that was the bathroom he would praise every time.
Turns out he had been at a concert I had been at, before I knew him. Turns out a broker had shown him, Castle of Joy once when he had been house hunting with his friends.
Turns out a lot of things weren’t like how G thought it would be.
Especially about Shaggy.
Maybe it was G. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was both of them or maybe it was the great granddaddy of all love stories-Fate.
They stuck on each other. G was convinced he would bore her but every time they talked he intrigued her even more.
She dragged him along on an expedition to get weed from her friend, who also incidentally happened to be roommates with her ex. They got drunk, swapped stories and danced like no one’s watching. G and Shaggy danced with abandon as if they knew it was just a matter of time before they fucked. The ex forgotten, the friend ignored. G sprawled all over him the cab, only now she was intoxicated enough to admit to herself she had wanted to try him since day one. Shaggy pecked her on the forehead and dropped her home.
If you had asked her then, she would have never admitted what she would blush and gush about now.
If you ask me, I think it was because of the peck on the forehead.
That night was the first time G realised she liked this big, floppy haired bumbling man boy.