The Rat

My blog states one shouldn't cry, that I shouldn't cry. But I want to cry out of so much rage. I'm smelling a rat, a big rat. I'm not scared of this rat because I know him so well. But then again that is why I'm overflowing with rage because I know what the rat is able to do. He's one talented rat, we would know what the other was thinking with just a fleeting look. I thought he was a friend for 16+ years. But friends do not do give you the shoulder just when you're hitting rock bottom do they? And a friend's wife who has been playing the part of a sweet trusting wife for 16+ years only to turn into a green-eyed monster is not a friend either is she? My guess is not. The wife could do what the hell she likes, but not the friend who suddenly cut whatever it was we had as if it never were. And it hurt, because I missed my friend. But I got over it. I never hated him, I was just very sorry for having given so much into a friendship that never was. And I spent years observing how a good friend was suddenly turning into a rat. And I was suddenly grateful because I could do without a rat anyway. But now it seems it's my time. And the scared girl 5 years ago is scared no more. I can take a rat, no matter how big. I don't have six cats for nothing. They're the cats, but my anger is slowly turning me into a tiger. How dare he play the dirtiest trick of all now? The trick which is called let's-separate-the-twins-for-all-it's-worth. The saddest part of it all is that my twin is actually falling for it. I have warned him over three very angry cell phone conversations that it's not what it seems. He has called me a fool. I wonder who the real fool is. And I have warned him that this will be the crunch when I will have a twin no more. A family no more. Because the flipping rat is not just targeting my twin but my mum and dad too. And it's so sad because I know it will be useless explaining. And they know perfectly well how the rat once gnawed at my core. And I know people forget, but family? So I play the game I always do, what if it were me? If it were me I would never ever give a chance to a rat which was at my brother's throat. No way. If I were a mother I would never ever think sweetly about the rat which made my daughter feel ill. And if I were a father there would be no way on earth that I'd talk to the rat. I'm not so sure about dad, dad seems to have felt what I felt at the time. But then dad will do what mum says I guess so as not to cause a rift in the family while causing the biggest rift ever. That's the road to hell, paved with tarmacked good intentions, with shining lamp-posts and pretty flower beds and a sparkling fountain at every other corner. Because somehow they will think I'm a fool. And I am because I always forgive. But not this one. I have startled myself by issuing my twin a warning... "It's me or the rat and I will never again speak to you in my entire life." Which would be devastating to me as in feelings, and devastating to him and his TV programmes. Because no, he'd never be able to employ an all in one like me. And no he'd certainly never be able to employ someone who will write endless articles like me. But it's his choice. He's said that I am a fool, and I usually am, I always fall for the feelings thing, for the because-he's-my-brother trap. Not this time. I know the rat and I know my twin both very well. My twin will finally tire of the rat and his conscience will make him even more tired because he will not sleep. I won't sleep either, but that's what hypnotics are for. I've braved too many things alone, now I'm wiser the second time round. And I have a colony of support. And when the rat will exhaust my twin, my family, they will corner him and turn against him. I just have to keep my word this time, screen phone calls or put the phone down, and looking through the peeping glass installed in my door. I will try not to think about the game called what-if-it-were-the-last-time-I-saw them? Because they don't even know it exists. I am in no way a perfect image of Homo Sapiens, and I know I make mistakes. My friend made a huge mistake which could have cost me my life, and 5 years later I still haven't got an apology. I also know he's asking around about me with a smirk. He's been doing that for five years, nothing new. What he did would have an enemy appalled. And I know he doesn't like my man for reasons which make me think a lot. Doesn't like is too weak a phrase, he loathes him. And I know where all this will be going. And It will be just another ploy to sweet talk my family into making my man look like a monster. My man is big in ever sense, but no monster. And no, I'm sorry rat, I'm not leaving him for you. And now that's another thought, why ever would a rat want to make me leave my soon to be husband? Would the rat want to take his place I wonder? Whatever it is, it's not happening, not if there isn't a soul at my wedding which is what it'll be like once the rat has got to my family. But it's about the man I love who has spent endless nights nursing me back to life, the one who has gone to all lengths, possible and impossible, to see me smile. He's the man who thinks I look beautiful in a scrunchy and worn out PJ's, because my man is big on love. And I'm keeping my word... period. Because the most beautiful thing on earth is loving and being loved back. Rat or no rat.