Overview

We fall in love with three types of people in our lifetime;

There is the ‘I was young and dumb kind of love’. hmm

The crazy one where you confuse a frog for a prince. You confuse a toxic pattern for “love” ,You get hurt, depressed, broken, eventually, you take the little dignity left of you alongside the lessons you took ages to learn and move on, and maybe, become a bitter feminist who strongly believes that men are trash. Whichever the case, your bruised heart survived.

We fall in love with three types of people in our lifetime;

There is the ‘I was young and dumb kind of love’. hmm

The crazy one where you confuse a frog for a prince. You confuse a toxic pattern for “love” ,You get hurt, depressed, broken, eventually, you take the little dignity left of you alongside the lessons you took ages to learn and move on, and maybe, become a bitter feminist who strongly believes that men are trash. Whichever the case, your bruised heart survived.

Finally, there is the kind of love that finds you and sweeps you off your feet. The kind that makes you want to spend the rest of your infinity with someone.

I met Michael. He was tall, dark, not so bad looking-extremely book smart, he was nice and caring and always told me not to stress so much about Finance and Accounting. Of course, I knew that I need to pass both of those units for me to graduate but hey, Mike said that they were easy and he would tutor me so why am I worried?

I was worried because despite the fact that whenever he wasn’t in the  office he would be home with me, we never seemed to have time to discuss Finance and Accounting because we were dealing with more important things like, which player he should include in his Fantasy Premier League team this week and why Arsenal is always a such  disappointment. Quite frankly, I did not know any football players at the time so he would just mention some names and I would pick the name that sounded fancy and that is who he would include in his team, and the next Sunday as we were doing our weekly reviews he would be happy with how Lacazette played and would then ask me which goalkeeper we should replace Ederson with and again considering I like De Gea’s  ponytail I would propose him and at the end of the week we would both be happy. Him, because his team was winning and me because Mike was happy . Isn’t that what we all want?

As life would have it our happiness was short lived because he had to go away for work and you know, he is securing the bag, maybe it was a good time for me to focus on my complicated relationship with Accounting and Finance. We broke up over text, then met three months later, I cried and he held me and I told him that I never wanted to see him ever again, lies, because we are very good friends now.

Sundays went by without me reviewing any football matches with anyone, I forgot all about football and focused on myself.

Then I met Troy. He was tall, dark, not so good looking but love is blind. He did not look like ‘the one’ but I was going to make him the one.His Sundays were for spending time with the boys and watching soccer, well, Mike used to watch soccer with me and the boys, because he enjoyed my company but you know relationships are different and you should not compare your current to your ex. Afterall, he is an Arsenal fun, a devotee, so he can go out with his boys and we will catch up later. He would come to me and rant about how they lost, but he would still support the same team the next week, I was happy because he is LOYAL, so I will keep him.

Year one was happiness, getting to know each other and exploring each other’s boundaries. We were making it work, we had cracked the relationship code.

Year two was routine. I would know where he was at, what he was doing and who he was with without even asking to him, or so I thought. Then I started to hear things, but you know, people are just jealous and jealous people are bitter people who destroy beautiful things. I trusted him, he was loyal to Arsenal, he was going to be loyal to me because he loves me as much as he loves Arsenal. He wasn’t. I left. Then I came back because I loved him, and this was just a storm that we were going to get through together.

Year three. I graduated, got a job, and apparently got new friends in the corporate world and was “no longer interested in him.” Let me take you back to the nights when I waited till the wee hours of the morning to only see him for a maximum of 30 minutes because he had “a busy day tomorrow” and that would be once in  a while when he would actually show. Let’s go back to a few weeks before that when he said I can’t go for rugby matches because I would be tempted to pass by Space lounge on my way home and he did not like it when I went out. Or should we go back to the time he said I should not hung out with my friends because he doesn’t like them.

So basically, I can’t hung out with my friends, I can’t make new friends and I can’t see him unless he wants to see me and if I focus my energy on work then I don’t respect him because of my new corporate friends. Perfect, I can work with that.

Year four, I am hearing stories again. This time I am seeing things. And this time I am believing what I am seeing. I am doing the hardest thing. I am walking away. He says I am a bad person. He says I betrayed us. As in me and him, okay I am not quite sure whether that is what he meant or it was me and him versus other girls. Either way, I guess it’s none of my concern.

Then came Clark, he has an aura that makes me feel like I have known him my whole life. You know the person you can talk to about why the sky is most beautiful at sunrise and sunset. He brings silence to the chaos within me. Like an answered prayer he just fell out of nowhere and brought hope along with him.

A wiseman once told me on his 35th marriage anniversary that you will meet someone who will make everything feel right. The person will be your friend and will only want the best for you. When such a person comes along, marry them. You will discover that over time, you are going to learn to love them better and after all, love is a process, not a feeling.

WRITER: MISS BEAUTIFULLYFLAWED