Life of Thomas da Silva.
Episode 9 (Collateral Damage)
Love is not just a beautiful thing; it is a metaphysical thing. The reason why true love is transcendental is because you don’t plan for it, it finds you. Although, scientists try to give some rational explanations to almost everything, including love. Over the years, I’ve chosen to believe that in a way, scientists are metaphysical about their thoughts on the subject matter, love. For instance, there are thirteen major scientifically proven pointers that you’re in love, and each of these signs have metaphysical underlines.
Firstly, when you are crazy about someone, you start to believe your dearest is incomparable or unparalleled. The credo is connected with an incapability to enjoy saccharine amour for anyone else. Scientists position this intense thoughtfulness results from lofty levels of central dopamine, which is a chemical involved in mindfulness and concentration in your encephalon.
Secondly, individuals who are genuinely in amour incline to concentrate or dwell on the good attributes of the treasured, whilst disregarding his or her bad qualities. They also center on frivolous situations and items that spurs their memory of their loved one, musing about these puny mementoes. This fixed concentration is also thought to arise from lofty levels of central dopamine, as well as a sharp peak in central noradrenaline, a chemical affiliated with amplified retrospection in the existence of new impulses.
Thirdly, failing in love often leads to susceptible and physiologic volatility. You rebound between cheerfulness, high spirits, seventh heaven, restlessness, trembling, expedited respiration, as well as apprehension, sweat bullets, and impulses of utter hopelessness and despondency when your connection suffers a minor relapse. These mood swings match the comportment and behavior of drug junkies. Being in love, scientists say, is a form of addiction.
Fourthly, falling in love, literally means escalating chemistry. Going through some kind of difficulty with another person have a tendency to escalate passionate affinity. Central dopamine is culpable for this reflex too, because study shows that when a requital is hindered, the neurotransmitter associated with movement, attention, learning, and the brain’s pleasure and reward system located in the middle of the encephalon area become more fecund.
Fifthly, individuals who are in love tell that they exhaust on par, roughly eighty-five percent of their rise and shine hours meditating, or reflecting over their dearest one, in accordance with scientists, meddlesome cogitation as this type of headstrong conduct is called, may eventuate from reduced levels of innermost 5-hydroxytryptamie in the encephalon, a state that has been allied with headstrong demeanor hitherto.
Sixthly, individuals who adore each other, display traces of histrionic dependency on their relationship, taking into account acquisitiveness, distrust, chills of rejection, and rift angst. Therefore, invariably, emotional dependency is forever present in every relationship.
Seventhly, another major scientific sign of love, is the act of planning a future. The future is always important to those who are in love. People who are in love, long for matrimonial or lasting, or passionate union with their dearest one, looking for ways to actualize these fantasy of theirs about their future together.
Eighthly, individuals who are in love ordinarily experience a dominant stimulus of affinity toward their adored, sensing the other person’s distress as their own and being enthusiastic and willing to relinquish, cede, and trade off anything for the other person. In other words, they can go to any length to see/make their beloved happy.
Ninthly, going head over heels is noticeable by a propensity to change your quotidian precedencies and/or making alterations in your apparel, idiosyncrasies, conventions, customs, proclivities, principles, standards, ethics, morals, mores, ideals, or values so that they better align with those of your loved one.
Tenthly, those who are madly in love typically encounter erotic hankering for their esteemed, but there are hardened emotional twines attached: The craving for sex is coupled with possessiveness, an urge for coital exclusivity, and excessive paranoia when the partner is suspected of disloyalty. This possessiveness is thought to have metamorphosed so that an in-love individual will oblige his or her partner to snub other admirers, thereby securing that the couple’s courtship is not halted until conception has occurred.
Eleventhly, while the crave for sexual union is important to couples in love, the yearn for histrionic union takes preeminence and supremacy. According to a research study, sixty-four percentage of people in love do not agree with the statement, ‘sex is the most consequential part of a relationship.’
Twelfthly, scientists found out that people who say they’re in love, often say their enthusiasm is reflexive and unrestrainable. People in love commonly feel uncontrollable, and that is the beauty of falling in love in the first place. Based on personal experience, intermittently, this feeling if not positively channeled, might lead to obsession, sometimes madness.
Lastly, lamentably, being in love habitually does not last always, it is a momentary, state that either progresses into a long term, mutually dependent relationship that experts in the study of the human mind call ‘attachment,’ or it disintegrates, and the relationship breaks up, if there are palpable or social bulwarks preventing the couple from seeing each other every day. For example, if the relationship is long distance, then the ‘In Love’ period typically persevere longer than it would differently.
I’ve come to learn and discern, based on my life experience that, when a man loves a woman, he enters the first stage of a neurobiological disorder, I call and refer to as the ‘Woman Wrapper Syndrome, (WWS).’ The WWS is the first stage of every relationship. The expiry date of this stage is a maximum of two years. The WWS is also known as the ‘In Love,’ period.
This was the exact point in time/period I was, in my relationship with Clare, as you all know, my relationship with Clare started off with full blown lust, but I grew to loving and adoring her. The WWS is a point in time, every reasonable man should look forward too, only if you don’t believe in love, talk less of true love.
The ‘In Love’ period I shared with Clare was almost expiring, and the WWS effect has started to wear out. Normally, when a man starts to feel that way, it implies that, it is time to move on to the next stage of that relationship. Which is either the ‘attachment,’ or the ‘break up,’ period.
As for me, I was ready, to move on to the ‘attachment’ period. Which in all sense, simply means, the mutually dependency relationship period. I was ready beyond every shadow of doubt, though we weren’t officially dating, and notwithstanding her open relationship with her husband. All I wanted her to do for me, was to divorce her husband, to be with me. To be sincere, I wanted to marry her, if she permitted me to do so.
I was madly in love, and my enthusiasm was reflexive and unrestrainable. I showered her with so much love whenever I had the opportunity to do so, and however molecular it was. Yellow like the African sun, red like the roses, purple like the hibiscus, she made my head do the ring-a-ring o’ roses.
We were both into each other. Clare was so sweet and passionate about me. And of course, I was also passionate about her, and I was ready to make sacrifices. I was ready to sacrifice my career for the relationship to work, if there was ever a need for it. I still tell John Maxwell, my manager that, if Clare wanted me to stop writing the screenplay for the televised series ‘Why I Can’t Love.’ I would have gladly and stupidly yielded to her request. Never underrate the potency of the WWS.
But I guess I wanted more from Clare than she could possible give to me. In the heat of my undying love for her, I made her an innocent proposition that totally truncated, our relationship. I believed I deserved more, and I thought I have finally found the one. Unknown to me, I was only deceiving myself.
And I guess things didn’t work between myself and Clare because the foundation of our relationship was built on a lie. Or, it was not meant to work actually. Either ways, no woman on planet earth with the exception of Clare has ever broken my heart. On the contrary, I was the breaker of hearts.
Not that it was my custom/norm to be that kind of person, or I enjoyed leaving women broken hearted, being a hustler, I had no choice than to favor my career to any sought of relationship whatsoever. In other words, if I was in a relationship that wasn’t favoring my career or helping me to make more money, I’d quit.
And when the paradox of reality came down crashing on me heavily, I could not curtail it. I got the very taste of my own medicine. I, Thomas da Silva was broken hearted. I must confess it was not a great experience at all. It is actually better not to fall in love, than to fall in love and suffer a heart break.
My experience with Clare taught me a vital lesson in life. Which, is to always do your possible best to minimize the break up impact on your soon to be former dearest one. It is always better that way, unless you want your ex to hate you to your grave. Eighty per cent of every break up suffer what I refer to as the ‘No String Syndrome, (NSS).’
The NSS, is a psychological disorder, that makes you, hate, or want to do better, or want to find somebody better, or appear strong, or get your life back together first, or want to move on, amongst others, by default, after a very devastating break up. The NSS enables you to look forward to the future, and at the same time, keep you reminiscing about all those good times, you both shared. The ball is in your court, it is your call to decide, which effect you want to allow or permit, to get the better part of you.
The only explanation I could always give to those I wanted to break up with, was the story about my career, and not seeing myself and the person in question together in my future. I don’t even feel remorseful after a break up, instead, I celebrate my new found freedom. I call it ‘a light, at the end of an unwanted tunnel.’ Those were the good old metaphysical days.
But after my episode with Clare, I do two things, with the intent of minimizing the break up impact on the affected lady. At the early stage of any relationship I got myself into, mostly because of sex, whenever I noticed or had a hint the relationship was never going to work no matter what, I would break up with the person in question, as soon as possible.
Peradventure, I had gotten deep into the relationship and afterwards realized, it wasn’t going to work, I would sit the lady in question down, and have ‘The Talk,’ with her. ‘The Talk,’ is a breakup mechanism, whereby you slowly, softly, articulately, and accurately, make your partner realize reasons why both of you need to break up, and once you are able to achieve that, you break the news to her.
Most times, ‘The Talk’ commonly lead to a peacefully breakup, although, there’s no such thing as a peacefully break up. But the breakup impact would be optimally reduced to the barest minimum. Most breakups that have the element of ‘The Talk,’ the couples end up becoming best of friends. I even wrote a novel titled ‘The Talk.’
Clare and I, never had ‘The Talk.’ She just broke up with me over the answering machine. One of the worst ways to be broken up with, as a major player and key figure in the breakup industry. In a nutshell, I had my heart completely shattered and shredded. It was a horrible of my life. But I survived it.
Due to the fact Clare and I never had ‘The Talk,’ I contracted the NSS. I hated her with my whole life. And I focused my energy on proving to her that she wasn’t going to ever find a better person, by transferring and throwing a lot of heartfelt insights into my writings and work in general. I made a promise to never call her, which I kept. And I also promised myself that whenever she would hear my name, it would be in high places.
After a wonderful copulation, that happened in the kitchen, which was not our last one, I sat Clare up, and told her about how I was thinking about the future lately. I told her I wanted to be with her for the rest of my days, I told her, I wanted her to be the mother of my kids, I told her I wanted to marry her, I told her I could quit my job for her, if my commitment towards making the relationship work, required that drastic measure.
I told her, I wanted to be happy with her, that I want to grow olds in her arms, that I wanted to travel round the world with her, that I wanted to shower her with love and affection, that I wanted her to be my soulmate, my all in all, my everything. I told her all she needed to do for us to make these dreams of mine become reality, was if she divorced her husband, and cling to my warm embrace. I reminded her she was in an open relationship with her husband. And I was ready to offer her my world and time, with no regrets whatsoever. She didn’t say anything when I was done professing my love for her. She rested her head on my chest in a very cute manner.
My custom is to always listen to all the messages, that was left for me on my answering machine. So the following day, when I got back home from work, I can remember vividly it was raining heavily on that day, by default, the first thing I did was to listen to all the automatically recorded voice mail from unanswered telephone calls.
She was the only missed call I had that day, her voice was oozing out of the answering machine in an odoriferous manner, as of the fashion of pity amidst delight. In two sentences, she told me she loved me, but her career was more important than the love we both shared. She concluded by saying that, in that retrospect, there was nothing I could offer her, and her relationship with her husband was the spark she needed to ignite the flames of her career.
Though, those were not her exact words, but the above, was what I could deduce, from her two sentences breakup speech. Her words pierced my soul. I fell into my bed and slept like a log of wood. It was the following day I started to feel the impact of not having her by my side, anymore.
Since this was the first time, I was ever heart broken, I didn’t handle my break up phase with maturity. But thanks to John Maxwell, he was always there for me. I will not share in details, what I exactly went through, because I do not intend to spoil and soil my metaphysical persona. But all I can say is that, being heartbroken is not a good thing at all.
John Maxwell advised me to forget my past (Clare), and fight for my future. But guys, the past always have it ways of catching up with the present or future at times. Don’t worry I will come to that later. So I did follow my manager’s awesome idea. And it totally worked.
The very first thing I did, was to furnish my apartment, the intent was to eradicate every memory of Clare. Then I transferred my aggression, in a positive manner to my work, as I have explained earlier. And so ended my epic saga with Clare. I believe that there is always a metaphysical reason why you get to meet some certain set of people, though I couldn’t at that time, understand the reason why Clare walked into my life, but I was opened, to one day find out the reason, which I eventually did. Don’t worry, I will come to that later.
Guys you don’t plan for certain things in life. Hold on for minute, I’m not talking about love here. But eternal friendship. Ever since the first day, I set my eyes on Clotilde, which at that time was about three years ago, I knew almost immediately, that there was something special about her. And she further affirmed my speculation, when she came to my office to pitch her idea for the screenplay, for the televised series, ‘Why I Can’t Love.’ Which I was the creative director/head writer for that production.
That day marked the beginning of a new found friendship. I had just suffered a major breakup, and the wounds were still fresh. And she was just what I needed. A good friend. Apart from acting, which was her majo r roadmap to stardom, Clotilde also has an interest in writing. In fact, she is a very good writer, with a very wild imagination.
She officially became my first ever protégé. And till today, she still gives me a lot credit, and acknowledges me as her mentor everywhere she is opportune to do so. I remember guiding her and helping her with the editing of her first novel, which turned out to be a UK bestseller. Though I had my differences with Green and Harris, I asked my manager to pitch the manuscript to their publishing company, and they did a fantastic job. Since John Maxwell, who is my manager and a good friend of mine, was able to pull off a successful deal, for Clotilde’s first ever book, she employed him to manage her. And the three of us became a formidable trio.
At that time, we were on break, and pre-production preparations were being made for the start of a new season. My team and I had already submitted most of the scripts for the next season, so I was somewhat free at that moment, doing a lot of tours and granting exclusive interviews. Whenever I was in London, I spent most of my days with either Clotilde or John Maxwell. I was having the best time of my life.
Clotilde’s contract with the producers expired when the second season ended, because the role she was playing died, hence she had to exit the movie set. Her exit launched her to the bigger screen. She got another contract with British main film distributors, and production company, Warner Bros and 20th Century Fox, in association with Elstree Studios, Eros Films, Hit and Run Productions, and Red Rock Entertainment. She was to star in movie produced by Michael G. Wilson, Grant Hill, Zack Snyder, Lara Breay.
John Maxwell played a very important role for her to secure that kind of a contract with the big leagues. We were both happy for her, so I planned a small celebration party, just for the three of us, and the venue was my apartment. John wasn’t able to attend the party because he was caught up with something very important.
It was a beautiful evening. We had too much to drink already, so we totally lost it. Though we were drunk, we were both consciously aware of what we were about to do. We were busy laughing, when all of a sudden, there was an awkward silence, amongst the two of us. We looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, and before we both knew what was going on, our lips drew closer.
At that moment I snuggled, fondled, and caressed Clotilde’s beautiful face in my hands. Then in a wink/blink of an eye, Clotilde and I kissed with a lot of intense emotion. We allowed our tongues scrutinize each other with incautious wildness. Afterwards, I swept Clotilde up in my Herculean arms and took her to my boudoir.
I positioned her on my mattress and osculated her on the lips and took off my shirt. She chuckled at my well-shaped sculpted body. I then took off her gown and then I unfastened her brassiere, revealing her big round breasts. I began to work my lips and tongue on her ample hard teats, pleasing her to the maximum.
She started to sigh. I kept on working my lips and tongue on her teats and then I started to install kisses on her stomach. I then removed her black lace underpants. I threw my face into her twat and started lapping her clitoris. She was not under control anymore. I continued lapping her clitoris, whilst putting my finger inside of her. I started fingering her while lapping her clitoris.
She then zipped down my pants my pulled down my boxers and told me to lay on the mattress. I concurred. She took control of my penis and started massaging it. She went ahead to bedevil me by lapping around the crown of my penis and all around it. After about a minute she put her alluring labium on my member and overwhelmed it down her gullet. She started sucking me off with energy.
I started sighing and wailing. She then started working her lips and caressing my penis, at the same time and I was going insane. She kept working her lips on me and without warning I ejaculated in her mouth and down her gullet. She gulped every globule. I kissed her and told her I wanted to be inside her.
She told me to insert my penis inside her, in fact she begged. I got a rubber out of my bedside table and wore it. I then put my penis inside of her and started fucking her pussy with fervor. Whilst she started begging me not to stop. I kept banging her with glossy, hard strokes. We changed postures, so she could get on top of me.
She drove me wildly and nursed my cock like her own private horseling. I started pressing her fluffy, fleecy butt, and smacking it turned her on even more. After a while, we changed postures again and went missionary style, and we enveloped in some voluptuous osculation. We then went to some doggy style fucking, whilst I squeezed her boobs. In no time we both reached our peak.
She told me she was about to ejaculate. I was also about to do the same. Since I was wearing a condom, I unequivocally chose to ejaculate deep into her with all I’ve got, and she also came too. It was exquisite. We then kissed and had a shower together, and I drove her home.
I didn’t get to see her for two weeks, not that she was avoiding me, but she was quite very busy. And when I finally did, we sat down to discuss what happened the other day. We both agreed it was a mistake, we both wouldn’t regret. We decided to continue as friends, and try to prevent another sexual intercourse from happening between the both of us. So that we wouldn’t hurt each other.
To be continued…
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This week trivia.
I’m feeling happy today, and i want to give away to the first five people that comments on today’s episode on Life of Thomas da Silva, an electronic copy of my books (Black Ruby and Women’s War 1929). All you have to do is to leave a comment on today’s episode, alongside, your name, location, and email address. The books would be sent to your email.