Playing out the scenes, he was embraced, once again, by the imbecility of it all.
How does one access the minds of scam artists through default, logically minded approaches?
His methods needed diversifying.
The murder of crows, that would harshly clamor whenever these buried memories were unsoiled like worms, were once again storming through their discordant cries of a cerebral feeding frenzy.
Dark blue ink now stained the hand that had unconsciously crushed his biro into many messy fragments. The Ink, uncannily akin to the pigment of the tattoo on his arm; the other matching half of which, was still on her arm, he presumed.
Stains of exasperation bled through the blank page of his mind....
Where to start?
The intuition?
The giveaway look in her eyes?
The convincing suggestions of more?
The obvious signs?
NO!
Frustratingly for someone craving definition as a matter of necessity, these questions were all subjective to at least an element of doubt......which was not good enough.
Where's the proof?
---
Disappointingly for Tam's penchant for originality, pages of this account come from the personal trainer’s infidelity hand-book, which, wasn’t much of an enjoyable read, he would admit.
But there he was, sitting on the tarnished carpet, writing this account, right where the nightmare manifested itself.
He imagined sitting on their entwined bodies at that point, shitting out these words.
---
Let me introduce you to Bill:
Personal trainer Bill is a chump. As confirmed by his face being on the cover of “Top Chumps 2014” .
When asked how he felt about this achievement, he remarked how a family sized bucket of KFC had been the source of his inspiration since he was a child.
---
And this is Tulsi:
One of her claims to fame is sharing direct lineage with an ex U.S president.
When asked how she felt about this connection, she replied, "I Did Not Have Sexual Relations With That Man"
Well, at least that's one suspect, Tam could cross off of the list.
---
Tam was still pissed off thinking about this whole cluster-fuck of a story. It would have preferably been one of his many works of fiction. However, for once, it wasn't.
---
Tulsi met Bill at the local gym; where, one day he suggested to her, some personal training sessions.
Built up by the testosterone laden compliments, like he was his protein shakes, she gleefully accepted.
To make the sessions more cost effective for Tulsi, it was believed, they took place away from the gym; sometimes at Tam's home, when other facilities weren't available.
Tam would happily unplug from his daily writing at the computer and make himself scarce; respecting that her passion also had a suitable environment for it's outlet.
It made her happy, that's all he needed to know, so he accommodated accordingly.
The first of many suspicions revealed itself, one evening, amongst a group of Tam's friends.
Tam had invited Bill out to join them all at a local bar, aware of the fact that he was otherwise, socially unengaged.
After a few drinks had been knocked back, Tulsi and Bill, ended up hunkered together in a corner; their transfixed awe; mirroring one another. The wandering eyes of mutual appreciation, hinted at something beyond friendliness, in an exchange that was glaringly obvious to all.
Inebriation’s attempts at subtlety left a lot to be desired.
With scalding embarrassment starting to overwhelm him, Tam got up, out of his seat and pounded over to the corner of the table. "Ok.....Bill......Tulsi, it's time to leave!"
Consequently, the evening's gathering, was called to an earlier than expected close.
---
When they got home, the sober Tam, presented Tulsi with her earlier behaviour, hoping for some kind of acknowledgment, explanation or apology. She was, however, too drunk to converse in any way useful; shouting and cursing incoherently before she fell out cold.....
Tam, on the other hand, stayed up, seething....
Thinking of how he'd observed Tulsi slyly checking her phone, at what she must have presumed were opportune moments, over the last few days, Tam recalled how every glance of the screen had been met by an excited look in her eyes that he hadn't seen for quite some time.
It was then that he decided to do something he felt thoroughly uncomfortable doing, but he knew that it was the only action he could take, that might allow for either the quietening or confirming of his rapidly escalating worries.
Either way, he'd do anything to escape the ever extending limbo-land of anxiety that he was beginning to find himself trapped within.
Tam picked up Tulsi's phone and opened whatsapp, and there was Bill, right at the top of the contacts list, as he had suspected; the last person that she had communicated with.
Tam opened up the message feed and......NOTHING! - All of the message content had been deleted, earlier on that evening apparently. He quickly checked her other message threads; the history of all, going back for weeks.
What the fuck is going on?!
Frenzy was now woking it's way through his ribcage; where his heart was trying to beat it's way out of it's newly found hell hole of a home.
The next thing he did was check her pictures.....
Tam had neither seen these pictures before now, or the lingerie; which was completely abandoned for the continuation of this series of selfies; whose capture, it could be deduced, was just a few weeks back.
Frenzy soon turned to rage.
Tam: "Tulsi, what the fuck is going on here? I want an explanation!"
Tulsi: "Baby what's up, what are you talking about, why are you angry? You're scaring me!"
Tam: "You know what I'm talking about, why the deleted messages between you and Bill, what are these pictures all about? I haven't seen this lingerie before, explain yourself"
Tulsi: "I haven't done anything wrong Tam. Bill and I agreed to delete our chat, earlier, because of how it looked at the bar. He was worried that you might have gotten the wrong idea about...."
Tam: "What happened was clear and very inappropriate Tulsi"
Tulsi: "....And those pictures.....nobody else has seen them, they were for my eyes only, I only took them because I wanted to see how my body was looking after all the training that i've been doing. There's nothing more to it, I swear! Do you not think that I would have deleted them if I was trying to hide anything?"
The questioning and denials played through, over and over again, into the early hours of the night, until after many hours of thrashing it out, they both crashed out, exhausted.
---
The following day came and Tam didn't speak to Tulsi. He was mulling everything over in abject discontent.
As apparent as things seemed, without conclusive proof tying even the most supported of accusations together, Tam knew that he couldn't access the justification that would grant him permission to end the relationship, albeit there were many red flags signalling him to do so.
He demanded a certainty that wasn't forthcoming; even the tiniest shadow of a doubt left room for the most unfortunate of coincidences and mistaken identities, to exist within.
Tulsi pleaded with him again; repeating that nothing untoward had ever happened, or would ever happen, saying how she'd now deleted Bill's number, would never speak to him again and would join another gym.
This was about the extent of their communication for a few days.
---
Tulsi's slick, unfluctuating script and ever-ready, puppy dog eyes started making every effort they could to allay the mountain of Tam's concerns, but in the end, it was the lack of irrefutably definitive proof and his usually trusting nature, coming to the fore again, that settled things at a place where the benefit of the doubt was granted.
Consequently, over the following months, they tried hard to rebuild their relationship, but the constant forcing of efforts soon took it's toll. Though he trusted his instincts, Tam was paranoid, she insisted; her beguiling skills of persuasion further confusing him.
Tulsi was trying to use this bewilderment to her favour by seeking to persuade Tam's family that he needed to see a physiatrist; playing on his history of depression to bolster her claims.
She was only trying to do the best for him, it looked, to all else.
"Maybe you should go and see the doctor", his sister said.
This was psychological warfare.
Swiftly, their shared space together became unliveable.
Whilst not officially separating, they agreed to take some time away from one another in an attempt to clear their heads and make sense of their feelings.
So, Tam moved out of his home.
---
Passing weeks consumed him.
They weren't hungry anymore; just masticating every moment out of glutinous spite.
Depletion turned into mourning; where a lack of sleep and resistance to food, created a worryingly weak and withdrawn man.
However, somewhere amongst the surrender of the body, the arduously exhaustive process of breaking oneself down, offered deep reflection.
A significant realisation began to ripple through.
"I love this girl"
"I don't want to lose her"
---
He made an unyielding pledge to win her back; whatever it took he would do.
---
Tam, used to go over to their place when Tulsi had gone out to work.
One day; leaving a poem, which proclaimed his love for her, written on a note, tucked under a vase filled with her favourite flowers.
On other days; spending hours making the place spotlessly clean, in anticipation for her arrival from work, filling the fridge and cupboards with her favourite food and treats before making himself scarce again.
These efforts were met with meager acknowledgement at best, promptly followed by the resumption of silence that Tam was finding increasingly agonising to bear.
He was in turmoil.
One day, in a desperate attempt to do something that he hoped would make the sincerest of appeals to her most tightly guarded heart, Tam printed off 80 photographs of them both together, from different times and places in their relationship.
He wrote personal messages on the back of each one.
"I wish i'd asked you to marry me this day" read one.
He fixed the photographs to string and attached them to multi-coloured helium balloons that elevated the images over their bed.
He couldn't wait for Tulsi to get home and see them, later on that evening.
That evening's text message from Tulsi, whilst an acknowledgment of sorts, didn't exactly reveal her as being bowled over backwards by the sentiments, as Tam had been hoping for.
Deflated; he went back the following day, greeted by balloons that were now slumped on the bedroom floor; a result of the slow helium leak that the salesman had warned him about at purchase.
Determined that they would stay aloft, Tam tied each one to various things around the place - light fittings, curtain rails, picture frames, door frames, handles and chairs - anything that could keep these images and messages, present in her ever detaching awareness.
By the time he had finished, the place was a celebration of memories and colours again. The balloons; like fallen flags raised once again in victory; they would fly forever, he committed.
---
As a result of recent events, Tam's writing had been in remission; the usually reliant flow, totally eluding him as of late.
However, the surge of creativity and resourcefulness that had been triggered through efforts to win Tulsi back, suddenly offered a few words to his awareness. Maybe these are the words that would finally get the message through to her, he hoped. So, doing what he normally would, when sudden bursts of inspiration materialised, Tam got out his dictaphone and pressed record.
---
It was time to make himself scarce again, Tulsi would be back in an hour's time.
So, leaving everything immaculately organised, for her return, he locked the door behind him and made his way.
---
Nothing was heard from Tulsi that night.
---
Tam went back the following day, although he really didn't know why he had gone there.
After all of the attempts to reach out to her had fallen upon death ears, this lovingly embraced daily effort was now an exercise in self harm.
Feeling beaten to the core; every moment in that space was just further torture, and in no mood to hang around, he quickly gathered together a bag of his clothes and belongings, and picked up the dictaphone that he'd left on the side the day before.
He wasn't intending to go back there for a while, that much he did know.
A few weeks had passed, when something amazing happened; Tulsi got in contact with him, but not in the formal, abrupt and distanced way that Tam had become accustomed to, over the last few months.
Now she was asking him, how he was feeling, and telling him how much she had missed him.
"I really want to see you" she outpoured.
Tam, shocked into instant euphoria by this unexpected breakthrough, enthusiastically replied.
"I'll be over tonight, I can't wait to see you" he beamed.
What followed was the deepest unwinding of tension.
In a state of boundless gratitude, a long yearned relief washed over his wasteland of a being.
Love was planting her flag again!
Re-invigorated, Tam excitedly started thinking through how he would serenade her with declarations of devotion. Then he remembered the inspiration that had struck him, the last time that he was at their place, a few weeks back.
Perhaps these were to be the truly considered, meaningful and memorable words to resonate with her.
He reached for the dictaphone and found the corresponding file - It was 8 hours long! He must have forgotten to turn it off that day.
He pressed play - Nothing. Then he scanned through the audio recording, and before long he started to hear the distinctive, high pitched squeal of a voice in fast forward.
"Aha, there I am" he thought.
He pressed play again.
It was Tulsi
Getting fucked by Bill
On Tam's living room floor
Surrounded by 7 years of photographs of them together
Looking on at the sickening act, like a forced viewing of a twisted satanic sex ritual.
