Law of Beauty

Law of beauty number one: Always look good, because when you don’t, you are bound to bump into someone from your past.

We all have bad days. Bad hair day: when your hair is frizzy and big and looks as if it belongs to a hobo pushing a trolley overfilled with junk.

Bad face day: when your face breaks out in pimples and no matter how much makeup you put on, the pimples stand out. It’s as if they are filled with steroids.

Bad body/image day: when your body looks fat no matter what you wear. Even when you wear a sweatshirt, you just look humongous. So you end up wearing clothes so big you look like you’re wearing a tent. Forget about wearing something black to make you appear slimmer, on this day it won’t work.

I was having such a day. From the minute I woke up everything was going wrong. On this day, I had to bump into my ex, Greg. He was with a smoking hot girl who was clearly having a much better day than I was.

‘I hate Greg,’ Ed said, sharing my sentiment. I’d just informed them of my unfortunate encounter with my ex.

‘The worst is I tried avoiding him, I dodged into a crowd, put on a hat and glasses, but he saw me anyway. And he made it a point to come over and say hi,’ I said.

‘Maybe he was being polite,’ Matt said.

‘Polite? Please,’ Ed said. ‘The man does not know the meaning of the word. We hate Greg,’ he said again.

‘What’s the story with Greg, anyway? This is the first I’ve heard of him,’ Matt said.

‘That’s because we don’t mention his name in this house,’ Thando said. ‘He’s a loser, so please let’s talk about something else.’

The story of Greg and I is a long one.

Greg was the man I was supposed to marry. He was a successful, kind and loving man. We did everything together, even shopping. I trusted him wholeheartedly.

So you can imagine my surprise when I came home early from work to find a lump of a woman underneath the covers of our bed. I was at loss for words, so I just stood at the entrance of our bedroom staring at them.

‘I… I… I didn’t know you were coming home early,’ Greg stammered. As if that would explain why there was an amoeba woman in my bed.

We stood in the bedroom staring at each other, the woman in the bed breathing under the covers. He introduced me to her, the lump stuck out her pudgy fingers waving at me. I looked from Greg to the lump and walked out of the room. I decided to give them some privacy… in my own home.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t angry. A bit shaken, yes. A little disappointed, maybe. But not angry.

Minutes later, the girl whom I’ve never seen before wobbled out of my kitchen, her eyes on the floor. Greg followed behind her, now fully dressed. He stood in the lounge; he seemed unsure of himself. The always confident man was now reduced to a shy cheater. He did not know what to say. I had questions I needed answered.

We sat down and talked like grownups we were. An hour later, it was clear where our relationship was headed. Nowhere.

That was the last time I saw him, until I ran into him at the mall. Our breakup had not been easy, especially because Greg was an actor. It’s difficult dealing with a breakup when your face is splashed in covers of tabloids.

I looked at my two friends who’d supported me through the nasty break up, and smiled. Greg stole my joy all those years ago; I wouldn’t let him affect me after all these years. I decided to take my joy back. I decided to tell Matt the whole story. If he were truly to be part of our group, then he would have to hate Greg as much as we did.