Medusa - მედუსა 🪼
The sounds spheric, I move smoothly into the night, a smile on my face, a snitched drink in my hands, I enjoy the almost fresh air of a late night high season, breezing through the darkness in the atmospheric wood set up. The lights sparkling, the DJs playing, the people dancing. For the first hours I flow. And yet… I cannot stop feeling.. him. Thinking about him. A guy starts speaking to me. I find myself utterly uninspired. Same same same. You look cute he says საყვარელი. I’m bored, I give him one word answers to all the same questions I’ve heard too many times before. Trust me he keeps repeating himself like all the others before him when a real man would suggest the opposite to a woman he cares for. Not trusting a man you don’t know. You like Georgian men? I shake my head for all exactly these reasons, these conversations where all it is about is mansplaining. All the time. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me. If I ever hear any guy say it again I may as well just shoot myself. It peaks into the same outcome as always even when I barely answer the questions, he won’t stop. As he is not happy with my answers also I get the same reaction for the millionth time in this country. You should at least be nicer to me. Oh yea right. Because I’m not nice when I don’t say the things guys want to hear from a woman. I look at him remind him expressively that he was the one who started speaking to me and that it’s now time for him to vanish from me. That I just came to dance.
He stays asking after some time if I’m still angry turning it around pretending I’m a furious unpredictable woman and he’s just a nice guy like literally every fucking guy in all the last weeks. It’s insanity. How the ones that think they’re so special are all coming out of the exact same machinery, auto production, same same same. And again this makes me think even more of the one person who did not treat me like some random foreign woman that they need to explain their mentality to because she’s too dumb to understand instead of understanding that it is a million times more likely that an independent foreign woman traveling the world for years comes with a much wider horizon and open mind than they could ever think of which is exactly why they can’t think of it.
It deepens my feeling every time of how lucky I was to meet him. Being at bars or parties like this every time giving me this hope of seeing him around although I know exactly that these are not his places to be at all, let alone that it’s far from Tbilisi and he tends to be in his home town for the weekends. He doesn’t like to dance or be in crowds or clubs. So there is absolutely zero chance to find him in a place like this and still this is the feeling that parties evoke inside of me. I look at couples dancing together, the man hugging his woman from the back. I’m sitting on a step moving to the electronic sounds wishing that someone would come and hug me from the back. One day. This feeling of belonging. Someone loving me. Me as his. Caring for me. Holding me. Being with me. I can hardly remember how it feels. I forgot the feeling of someone wanting to be with me. Really be with me. For me. Unconditionally.
I think of six and a half years back when this guy was giving me such a good time, taking me to places randomly, picking me up on my bar chair inside the bar, spinning me around, giving me a kiss and disappearing again. How much I’ve enjoyed these times feeling like a teenager. It seems these times have vanished like people are not inspired enough anymore, motivated to be spontaneous, fun, childlike, curious and crazy. Show their feelings, just having a good time. And it seems like I’ve become invisible to men. For all that I am. Or maybe I always was. Only to be seen by the fewest like a rare gem, a diamond you need to dig deep for, take time to find it and then care for it to keep so no one else will steal it from you. Only before I was giving this precious stone away for free and now I refuse to do so anymore. The less I give this treasure away the more I come to realize that only the fewest bring the motivation, courage and will to discover the priceless value of this precious rock.
It hurts, it’s frustrating and boring. My patience in terms of men is drained. Totally. Finished. At Zero. Absolutely no capacity for any mansplaining, playing God, feeling superior, higher, thinking they could just come around educate you when they are in no place whatsoever blindly running through the world, in their own limited minds, having no idea about true love or connection trying to make the woman comply. I wanna vomit. I wanna get physically aggressive, hurt, punch all of them in their face, disrespecting people, women especially with all their degrading behavior without even noticing. Literally thinking they are being “good”, “normal” until it gets to the point where you are actually not complying and they will start getting into your face. “You should be nice” “you are drunk that’s why you’re aggressive”. Absolute number one trigger to not facing the situation themselves, looking at themselves.
I cannot remember having said this to any guy ever in my life. Brushing off my responsibility, putting it on them. Even Medusa managed to do say this sentence at last. Punching me hard in the gut. I stayed although it was wrong.
No more. No more staying. Not for a single word. For nothing. No more wasting my beautiful self.
It’s the second day of party. I’m already exhausted. It’s getting later… still time. Time that passes that makes me consider going to sleep. What should this party bring to me? Like the night before… at least for short I will try my luck. Jumping into the taxi, singing along with the music my energy completely changes. I feel fully connected while the driver is smiling at me for my voice. Linchen I wish you despite everything a wonderful night. And somehow I wish you a surprising beautiful turn of events even if it’s with the last sip of sparkles when a nice person accompanies you and the two of you simply start chatting. While I’m singing for the desert rose I feel the truth of her words and the Universe evolving around me.
Sending me right into my friends arms minutes later, connecting through exactly these fundamental views on men, the world, being human, being kind, setting boundaries, becoming us. I hug her. She is One of us. They’re calling us. It’s late, we forgot the time, it’s after midnight. We get a car and get to the party. It’s crowded. The scene much more lively than the night before. An open atmosphere creating space for wanting more. Except… after needing thirty minutes to use the toilet I feel exhaustion to my limits, creeping into my bones. I know no drink can help no matter how much I wanna enjoy the party, the people, the connections.
I say bye, I leave, walking into the lights of the forest, calling a taxi. Standing on the street the taxi passes, it goes elsewhere. I put my head in my hands. Only I wanna go home. The car would turn around but… Another car stops right next to me. The guy putting his head through the window offering me a ride home. I look at the guy and nod. He’s taking me. Buying me a bounty (ans if he knew he’s smiling asking if I like it… if only coconut…) and a water on the way, bringing an extra large bottle of beer. I can see where he thinks this is going. He ends up being right when I finally hit my bed at 6am.
He drives us to my place, parks his car by the forest. He’s sweet. We have beer, I sing along to the music. We get closer to each other and I don’t know how we even got there. I find myself drunk sunk in his kisses, spending hours in the backseat. I feel free and happy, like a teenager but then again like a woman who knows exactly what she wants and what she’s doing. I needed this. I knew it. When it’s time to go, I give him my phone he puts in his name. I start laughing. I don’t believe what I see. I cannot. I am bursting with laughter. He’s looking at me irritated. We don’t speak the same language. I can only shake my head and show him my phone book with the same name. It’s Medusa. Out of all names can this be a coincidence? Indeed not. Bringing me the one and only name that has moved my heart for all the last weeks. Reminding me of… what do you think is the message? There is no coincidence. My anchor and love of this country is asking me. I feel the same. I say. Forget him because there are more of him. It’s what I needed to know. It’s what I’ve been asking for all along. Please don’t let him be the best experience of men in this country.
Message received. As I receive it, I pass by… The sign, the confirmation of the Universe. Medusa. In front of my eyes. Exactly where Medusa lives. No coincidences. Only signs when you can read them.
Finally clouds are moving in front of the sun, the wind blowing, shielding me from the summer heat that I can hardly bear in my state of sleep deprivation and alcohol overdose. Having my Georgian universe moments from waking up til jumping directly into my ride, picking me from the street. Connection. Moving closer to my destination while my bladder can hardly hold the pressure of the night before. Time to arrive. Back. Recovery. Returning. I’m back. And welcomed by my last summer’s love.
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