Play with fire and you will get burnt


I have been trying to avoid discussing Sex and The City on this blog out of respect for my friends who haven’t had the chance to see it yet but I must write about the one issue which is still bouncing around my head, before I explode! Ok, I’m being dramatic, but the whole plot of the second film revolves around one subject which is close to my heart.

For those of you who have not seen the film and are not interested in seeing it, Carrie, who has been married for two years to the love of her life, ends up in the desert in Abu Dhabi with her girlfriends. Of all the people on the African continent, she runs into her old flame (and ex-fiance’) Aidan at a souk. Aidan is also married and father to three boys. They are both so bewildered by the meeting (really, what are the chances?) that they decide to meet for dinner. Carrie ends up dressing up in a breathtakingly beautiful dress (like she would) and dazzles her ex, who literally gulps when he sees her. Carrie is obviously playing with fire here. She comes to her senses when, at the end of a dinner full of flirting, they share a kiss. That’s when she realises that she risks losing all she’s ever wanted and finally got, for something she didn’t really want anymore.

Carrie and Aidan (who, by the way, looks smoldering hot in SATC 2).

At that moment I felt for her. I think the whole theatre felt for her because that’s what the film’s producers want us to do. I, however, could relate to the situation. Quite a few years ago, I too played with fire. I was in a relationship with someone who didn’t love me for who I was but for what I represented in his life. He was successful in his profession, had an amazing house and I was his trophy girlfriend. Every other month he would have a crisis and leave me hanging for a week until he confirmed, yet again, that I was worthy of being with him. I was in love and I was foolish. A year into the relationship I met someone who shared my love of literature and fairy tales and while this might seem frivolous, it was my Achilles’ tendon. This guy knew the Greek and Roman myths (my line of study) and could quote Kipling and he also had…hold on tight for this one…an old copy of Brewer’s Phrase and Fable! (I’m well aware that most of you won’t really get my fascination with Brewer’s but just know that it was a serendipitous moment when I saw this book on his bookshelf).

Mr Fables took his time and, after a thorough examination of my weaknesses and passions, seduced me until he reduced me to a schizophrenic mess. I ended my relationship with Mr I’m-Too-Good-For-You and started seeing Mr Fables, only to realise that I had made a big mistake. I had played with fire and, in the process, had hurt a lot of people and lost a big chunk of self-respect. In hindsight, I am glad it all happened the way it did because hadn’t it been for Mr Fables I would have never found it in me to move on from the complacent twit who wasted 18 months of my life.

So, going back to Carrie, I felt for her but I was also reminded of how, no matter how tempting, one should NEVER play with fire.



Add yours →

  1. Oh my, I would love to be a trophy girlfriend… unfortunately I’m not the type. Anyway, I can relate to your story too, and I’m glad the whole incident was a fortunate secuence of events in the end.

    Great blog!!!

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