Thursday, 4 August 2011

A Tale.

She had a boyfriend.
She honestly, had a boyfriend.

She walks around the house, phone in hand, shades on despite the darkness around, already prepared to lie about whatever emotion this turn of events incited, completely ready to fake a smile even though she was incredibly unhappy and instead marvel at the way she could mask her deepest emotions from even herself…

She wasn’t sure which route she should take, left or right? Sad or angry? Happy even? Apologetic? Stubborn? Apathetic? She was sure, deeply sure that this wasn’t what it was like…

She imagined him in front of her. Far away, about a million miles away, pressing some buttons on his phone instead of looking at her, the same phone she had been calling no less than an hour before.

The same call he had ignored. Placid amusement was the perfect way to describe it. Fighting the urge to burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation she had placed herself in, she rested her back on the wall, and brought her phone up to her face. The same Him. The same Him she was so ready to fight for. Anywhere, Anyhow. How she was so proud of him, on the outside…

Before she had left, they’d had a conversation where he had played the wounded spoilt prince quite brilliantly, acting all injured and hurt as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. But she knew it. And she knew he knew it. And even without saying it aloud, they both knew there was currently a huge gaping hole in their young relationship, and he would go, because she would be there when he got back right? Because she had no idea of what it should be like?

And that was what she’d hoped for, to leave, to be far away, to create some sort of urgency within him, some sort of need for her within him that she didn’t see anymore, he had become used to her, so he could leave and come back without a thought to where she would be.

She’d become a too predictable.

She hoped to be the most important. But she wasn’t.

At least that’s what it felt like.
Behind all the façade of being the best girlfriend alive, behind all the machoism, was the great abyss. The want. The knowing that it could be so much more than this. Yes, she adored him, she worshipped him…. But maybe because he was her first? Maybe she didn’t know what it really was like?
She couldn’t end it. And she knew he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to bear it. Would he? She wasn’t sure.
She still deeply loved him. And she also knew, she deserved more. A whole lot more than she was getting.

Not like she knew what she should be getting. It was painfully annoying. You know you should be getting more, but you don’t know what it is?
Maybe she was growing? Getting to know more about her very complex self? Knowing that in the end it would all end up like she’d always wanted it to be? But was what she wanted it to be the best option?

Her phone rang. The other guy. The Ibo guy.
He was always a welcome distraction. The texts, the calls. The way his voice caressed her when he talked. The way she always inwardly fought the always obvious attraction?

And the day they met? The strength of his sexuality startled her. The way he smiled, and seemed to wave away every of her worries with a slight upturn of his lip, the effortless way in which he sucked his lips while watching the movie? She’d ended up catching herself stealing half glances at him. And hell, he seemed to know. He wasn’t exactly a good type of his kind, not particularly what she wanted in any way. But the way he effortlessly made her feel her current relationship was a mess? Of the things she could do to him and he do to her?

The most depressing was the way he crushed her pride. Without even him trying to. She held her pride in the highest regard, and tended to repress every other egostical being in her presence. She know she was beautiful, and he knew it. It frustrated her. He put everything she stood for to the test.
Was this a test? Or was this the truth?
She honestly had a boyfriend she was going to marry, or did she?


He honestly thought she didn’t have a boyfriend.

It was so illogical, you know, he automatically knew when he met a “TAKEN” girl. Despite her screaming to the high heavens about how she had a boyfriend she loved and was going to marry, the attraction still remained. It bothered him sometimes, because she wasn’t even his type of girl. Sometimes, he thought that it was all a front? You know, she just wanted a guy to want to break all the boundaries to get her?

You know those kind of people who could argue that a plane was actually a flying car? Or that the flag of Nigeria was actually Light Green and not Green. It irritated him to the teeth at times, but she had a smile… That smile that touched his bones… Even if it was looking at her avatar…

And besides she had a great ass.

Typically, she was female, and naturally, he was attracted to the very sensuality of her being. What made her so appealing was the clash of emotion s he could smell a mile off. The tough, argumentative exterior. He was too sure there was a little girl inside there.

Screaming for attention. She thought she was weird. He’d met weird. She wasn’t.

He’d tried to ignore her. And keep his age long vow of never getting interested in other men’s property… He knew his charms would work on her. He was damn sure. But then, he was skeptical. She always tended to spring up surprises, absurdly crazy ones at that. He turned the over the paper filled with the list of movies up for the evening. He highly doubted the fact that he’d be able to concentrate on the movie. Whatever movie they’d decide on.

She’d come, smiling, as always, making his face light up with an impossibly stupid grin. She wasn’t looking her best tho, and he suspected it was on purpose. Everything happened so fast, next thing he knew, he felt her stare bore a hole in my neck. He refused to look at her. It took all the self control he had, but he had enough. He smiled, letting her know he knew.

He placed his free hand on her knee.

She looked at him, and brushed his hand off.

He’d expected it. If she’d done otherwise, he’d have been shocked. Immediately, he faced her, and put his right hand around her shoulder. He stared at her, her face flushed, he could almost feel the turmoil in her mind…

He laughed a genuine laugh. A very genuine laugh.
She looked at him. Why are you laughing?


Yet, she settled into his arm nicely, in a friendly yet asexual way. He could sense the fight. He wouldn’t push it.

She wasn’t something he’d do in two days. Or two weeks. He planned to enjoy the thrill. It would be worth it.

She would be worth it. Why?

Because now, he honestly knew, She had a boyfriend.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

//|0__0|\\ *slumps*

16 August 2011 at 12:34  
Blogger fisayomi said...

Beautiful... Really beautiful..

25 August 2011 at 06:18  

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