Overview

We met on Monday. Had lunch on Tuesday. Watched a movie on Wednesday. On Thursday, we took a short break. We pretty did nothing but miss each other on that day. So we went clubbing on Friday, had sex on Saturday and finally broke up on Sunday.

I hate getting late for work. Scratch that. I hate getting late for anything. I am a sucker for keeping time. Time is really precious for me. This particular Monday, I had overslept. I had a meeting at 9 am and I had woken up at 7am. My car had broken down the other day. I could not take an uber. I was too broke. Classical tale of the aftermath of December exuberance. So I had to use public means. It had been a long time since I had used a matatu. I ended up boarding the wrong matatu. I had to alight in the middle of the road after having a really heated argument with the tout. By the time I was boarding the right matatu, I was in a foul mood.

He was seated on the window seat, earphones on. I did not get to look at his face until I sat down and he turned to look at the cause of the disturbance. He looked good, averagely good. I would probably let him get to my pants after a fourth shot of whiskey, that’s how average he was. His face had these high jaw bones that made his nose seem tinier and eyes bigger than they actually were. I would have labelled his face a cartoon if it were not for his lips. He had those killer lips, the ones that are used to advertise men’s Chap Stick. The ones that can stay long without moistening and still not look dry. Of course the color is between a shade of pink and red. The size, medium. Neither too big nor too small. His lips got me.

He removed his earphones. The silent voice in my head went crazy.

‘Please don’t talk to me, I really don’t want to talk back at you,’ it said.

Of course he did the contrary. He opened his mouth and his lips moved. I have never seen lips move in that way.

 “Crazy morning, huh?” 

 His voice. He sounded like Geralt of Rivia (Main character of The Witcher). I was hooked. My foul mood was blown away. I did not know what to say. How did he know? I looked at myself. Okay, that answers it. I looked bad and shabby. My hair was all over the place. My face was sweaty. My clothes were creased. I had mud stains on my shoes. This was pure tragedy.

I smiled and mumbled something to agree with him. My brain wanted him to stop talking yet my heart yearned for his voice. No, I didn’t get butterflies in my stomach. Instead, my hands were all sweaty and shaky. I had never experienced this before. Let me save myself the embarrassment and cut the long story short. We talked. He asked for my number. I gave him my email address instead. I don’t know why. We parted ways.  I waited for his email the whole day. I kept on refreshing my email and checking the office Wi-Fi connection. It never came.

It arrived the next day at 3am. I read it at 6am and replied to it at 10 am.

“Yes I would very much like to have lunch with you,” I replied.

The restaurant was great. It looked expensive. It was those restaurants with menus with no prices. He was out to impress me. He had even gotten me flowers, roses. I am not a fan of flowers, but I was impressed all the same. I had some steak with a fancy complicated Italian name that I don’t remember. He had a mixture of vegetables. He was vegan. The date went great, better than any first date I had gone to. We talked more.

He was Joe without a y, and no he wasn’t a stalker. He never told me his second name. Red flag. He did sales. He didn’t say where. I didn’t bother to ask. I told him about myself. My peeves, likes and insecurities. It was easy talking to him. He was a listener. A good listener. He never interrupted. Super attentive and he never forgot what I told him. I liked him, to the point of going on a second date with him.

It was a movie, Jumanji 2.I loved it. We made out in the middle of it. He was a sloppy kisser. I hate that about dudes, but for Joe I was willing to compromise. He will learn how to do it right, I will teach him. I was so hopeful about us. That is my greatest weakness. I fall too fast and too hard. Right then I had fallen. Joe hadn’t even tried that hard. But that is how I am. I can’t change it. I don’t remember how the movie ended. I was too engrossed looking at his lips and fighting the urge to do it right there.

He had a thing on Thursday.so we couldn’t meet up. This did not deter us. We kept touch. We texted. He is a fast replier. I loved that about him. He never used emojis, I hated that. He made up for that by calling me randomly in the day. He said he was thinking about me and could not wait to see me. I was elated. It is such small things that really make my heart feel whole.

 Friday marked the point of no return. He asked me to be his gal. As you guessed it, I said yes. Then I blacked out. It was late in the night. We had gone out clubbing. I was super drunk. He was tipsy. He was a real heavy weight. I woke up naked on a foreign bed. I panicked. Did something happen during the night?

“No, nothing happened. I just wanted you to be comfortable. Plus your clothes were stained with puke. I slept on the couch.” He cutely replied when I asked him about it. I believed him.

He was in a tank top and a pair of shorts. He had a great body. He asked me if I wanted breakfast, of course I did. He brought it to bed. I was delighted. He fed me like a baby. He was treating me like a queen. I loved him. I reached out to give him a peck as I a thank you, I didn’t get to his face. I fell on his body instead. I was still tipsy. His body was firm. He grabbed me and brought me close to his face. Then kissed me. It was better than the first time. He was learning. One thing led to the other, and yes we got intimate. He was good at it, really good. This made me love him more. I was happy and contented. I had found a gem.

He dumped me with a text message the next day. Thing is, he is married with a kid. I was just a booty call to him. He never picked my calls. He blocked me. I sent him tons of emails, he never replied. I was frantic. I did not deserve this. My heart did not deserve this.

I need to forget him. I have tried. It is hard. Any suggestions?

WRITER: BYRON