Miss September

I'm called Butterfly for a reason and my failing attention span, which is shorter than Xiaxue on heels, is my call card.

Of late, I've come to define my months through the people I date, give precedence over or go to bed with. Its a collective thing for most of you, but for me, these mutable brackets can and will sometimes be mutually exclusive luxuries that I cannot offer.

When I saw her again last night, I remembered why I was so mesmerized by her that I gave up polygamy for a week. Call it my downfall, my kryptonite, the episodic bane of my aphrodisia for all things exotic. And not to deprecate the aesthetic importance of large earings, killer bodies and trucker caps.

I was initially worried that the temporal absence of physical contact, which is a month, would cause a bout of awkwardness to wedge itself between us. My qualms on this was quickly squashed by her ecstatic feint running towards where I was seated before giving me what I consider to be the best 'I missed you' hug.

She: "You miss me?"
Me: "Did you miss me?"
Reznor: "Som, did you cry?"

In between she hands me some handphone strap of a pig with wings, then dangles hers before mine. A matching strap only that hers is in white and mine's black.

She: "This is for you."

I stare at the absolute joke of a phone strap and imagine all the laughing everyone will be abusing me with when I pull this out. She had to be kidding. Even faggots will stone me for this.

Me: "For me?"
She: "Yes."
Me: "Really...? I have to put this on?"

I turn to Reznor,

Me: "You have to be fucking kidding me babe...." [whispers]
Reznor: "How long is that going to be on?"
Me: "Tonight... tops. It's coming off after I leave."
Reznor: "HAHAHA... You heartbreaker you"

I turn back to her.

She: "I'll be upset if you lose this."
Me: "Even if this accidentally drops?!"

She eyes me suspiciously. If I wasn't that much of an asshole, that might actually pass off as a legitimate joke.

The thing about Miss September is that I've never actually been anywhere remotely mean to her. Even when I'm particularly pissed at having her being around when there was at least two other women that I would have loved to hook up with, she only needed to do one thing to get my focus back on her.

Dance.

That contemptuous non-chalance of her gaze as if all else was below her. Then she'll work her body. A masterful craft of poised seduction and well-executed choreography. And she'll tease, swaying her hips periodically while peering through her fringe. If any one can make a PCD song look good, it's her. If she made a living on how well her ass moves, she'll be buying Tioman tomorrow.

She's territorial. She scrubs my face when some other girl gave me a peck. She wedges herself between me and any other girl who's having a conversation with me. She constantly reminds me that my eyes should be on her at all times. She gets pacified with a kiss. She changes my wallpaper. She loves me.

Reznor: "I can't imagine if you met her in a supermarket... you'd be married by now."

Me: "You know what? I've found my September.."

Edit: Pics removed