Stories of Devaluation

 I only met my father once that I remember, besides there being a few pictures in album of us on a yacht somewhere in Durban. 

That time - the time I remember - my father bought me some clothes and later we stopped at a toy store in the waterfront. Of those items, the one I remember best is a kite. The kite got thrown away some time ago, or it might be lying in the garage in my mom's home back in South Africa. 

But it's crazy how even a dusty old item as non-important as a kite can have so many details wound up in it. 

The kite was not the one I wanted, you see. 

The kite I really wanted was a bigger version that had a fiercer look about it. 

What I got seemed to be the cheap knock-off version. 

He said, "Do you want a kite?" And I said, or think I did: "Yes please." And I looked at the array of kites on the shelf, and the one that I liked best, as I said, was more serious somehow; It had a grey and blue material. It looked like a mean machine. Something that had a sporty edge. 

But I remember my father saying: "No not this one, it's a bit pricey." Which made me doubt his sincerity and his generosity. He had come out all the way on this one special occasion which was like a meeting with God. And he chose one out for me. One that I didn't particularly like that much. 

The kite I got was a luminous thing. It really looked like a toy. It didn't look like a real kite at all. 

Anyway, so we went down to some empty parking lot to play with it. This was near the V&A waterfront. It was mostly him using the thing. I felt like he didn't trust me with it. That he felt I was inept. Which I found out later to also be untrue. So he seemed like a liar right down the line.

So needless to say, I'm sensitive towards devaluation. I don't like the feeling of someone devaluing me, and  I had what some might say is the ultimate experience in that. My very dad telling me I should get a cheaper thing than what I actually wanted. 

Come 32 or 34 or so years later and a meeting with a woman who wants to devalue my time and presence still makes me feel a little uncomfortable. 

We've been setting up a date for the last 3 months and we can't seem to get it right. Last time it was her tonsils, and this time she forgot it. She said "I forgot about it" in the text on Instagram. So how do you forget if you care. That's the question I have for you.