The Damage Is Done

It has been a month since Kuku and I set the car on fire.  We had to keep that one under wraps until we broke the news to my father. It took approximately two hours and $269 to repair the sear. The lesson was priceless though. Stop snooping Kiki and move on.

I remember the look on the upholstery guy’s face when I explained to him exactly what happened to the car. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh, to slap me or to forewarn the authorities that I could be a danger not just to myself but society as a whole. Although I’ll never know exactly what he was thinking, I do know what he said and it had nothing to do with a restraining order.

“Snooping is very, very bad. No good will ever come of it. Just let it go,” car guy told me as he surveyed the catastrophic damage my meddling had brought upon my father’s luxury car. And I knew he was right. But knowing what is right in your mind doesn’t always correlate with what you feel in your heart. It would be easy for me to blow off what J-Fed does and pretend that I’m unaffected by the fact that he’s moved on.

The problem isn’t just with my actions. It also lies in the fact that I’m not slick. I don’t hide my prying from J-Fed. I lay it all out there on the table. This is a problem on two fronts. Front number one – if he wanted to, he could probably slap me with a restraining order. This isn’t really an issue so to speak. You see, J-Fed takes pleasure in watching me wiggle with jealousy. It’s not because he’s cold-hearted and callous (which he is); it’s because for the last nine years I swore up and down that I wasn’t a jealous person. Yet since he has moved out, I’ve proven that I’m “that girl.”