I sit in my office, my cell phone balance between my ear and shoulder, talking to
James Takawira over the cell phone whilst I battle with the paper work in my office.
This man is going to get me fired from this job because for the past week, I have
been behind with my work. He has been using all my spare time....
I throw my head back in laughter at the same time, taking the cell phone into my
hands.
"Be reminded once again that you are dealing with a working woman. I have some
invigilation to do" I say to Takawira as I suddenly get serious from the laughing
that I was doing. I stand up from my chair and start organising the scattered
papers on my desk.
"This working thing is really robbing me of this lovely company. But what can I do.
Have a lovely day, I already miss you though." He says sulking. His tone provokes a
laugh in me.
"Stop that! It shouldn't come from a man. I think it would have made more impact
if it was said by me. None the less, I love you lots. Have a good day." I say to him.
"I love you too. Take care of yourself for me, okay." He says over the cell phone and
we hang up. I put my phone on the table, fix my paper work and put it neatly on
the table. I put on my coat that is hanging behind my chair, lock up my off and i
go for invigilation. I will be in that hall for three hours to the dot.
...As soon as we finish the invigilation, I go straight to Vimbai's office, where we are
going to have some lunch and then we all get back to invigilation. During the
examination week, there is little time to laze around and follow the normal
schedules that we are used to. So we had to temporarily terminate the Tea
Tuesdays. We replace them with the ordinary lunch hour but we have it at the
school of hotel and catering's restaurant. The hotel is usually fully packed so we
opt to order our meals and sit at the quad area.
"So tell us, how are things with Mr Takawira?" Vimbai questions, also smiling
sheepishly.
"Things are fine." I respond as i shift my attention to my plate, wishing they could
just change the topic. I am not in the mood for an investigation.
"Come on Red! That's not an answer. Give us a detailed report at least." Chiedza
responds. Her eyes sparkling in anticipation, a lazy yet naughty grin developing
slowly on her lips. These two women should have worked for the media; they would
have been the best journalists. Busy manipulating people with grins and anticipant
faces and splashing silly gossip all over the media after gathering what they want.
Luckily these two can keep secrets.
"Things between me and Takawira and great. We are taking things one step at a
time and yes, I am the one who is slowing things up. This I do so that I can get to
know the man I am dealing with. For now, he might be all the man that I need but
it's too early to entrust my heart to him." I respond.
"So, are the two of you already actively participating in..." Vimbai asks, her eyes
wide open, her hands signing a silly gesture that's meant to describe sexual
intercourse. This causes me to laugh uneasily, knowing very well what they will ask
next if I agree.
"Yes, we are. And of course he is big." I respond smiling shyly.
"Don't say!!! How big?" Chiedza asks, her eyes wide open in eagerness.
"Girls please! I will tell you some of these details as time unwinds. For now, can we
speak about better things..... Speaking of better things, Chiedza when are you going
to get yourself a lover boy?" I ask. My mouth forming a malicious smile.
"I really don't know. Most boys think I am too classy or sassy for their league. So
most of them don't approach me." Chiedza responds, her mood dampening up.
"Then they are definitely not your type or you might be pushing them away." Vimbai
says.
"Well I agree, I am a bit choosy but what can i do? I am entitled to better than the
ordinary." She responds.
"There is a street saying that says, men don't come as ready made packages. You
choose a certain man and then mold him the best you can. But you are entitled to
a certain caliber of men." I say to her.
"And how many men will I mold for other women to before I get my apportionment?
Too many!" she responds.
"Patience pays. You might go through your share of heart ache and heart break but
at the end of the day, you will get what rightfully belongs to you." Vimbai responds.
"Preach Doctor Truth, preach!" I say dramatically and we all burst out in laughter.
We sit a little longer at the quads, enjoying our meals at the same time speaking
about certain issues that relate to our lives. After that we all go our separate ways. I
heard straight to my office. From my office i heard to another hall for yet another
invigilation.
"okay. Its fine. Have a good day then."
.....Have you ever walked out of relationship feeling like you wasted you precious
time, your heart bruised beyond repair. Tears can't even describe the pain you are
feeling inside, later alone put out the raging fires of regret and torment that burn in
your heart and mind. That's how I feel right now, as I am laying on my bed reading
a novel, which is supposed to serve as the ultimate destruction for my over heating
brain that keeps on reviewing where I went wrong. I worked vigorously during the
week trying to numb my mind, blocking it from thinking about that man whore
Takawira who is most probably gallivanting the whole world, his mistress by his
side yet I lay here crippling my already miserable life.
I think I really need to occupy my mind to help it get over my loose faster. One thing
for sure, I can't contact any of my friends to come and spend the day with me
because, they will start lecturing me about their wise warnings and my stubborn
character. I propel myself to get out of bed, strip off my night dress and get into the
shower. I run myself a long hot shower and when i get out, i am feeling much better.
I sit in front of the big oval mirror, looking at the woman staring back at me. A
woman, who is light brown in complexion, has big glossy eyes, thick full lips, an
effortlessly beautiful face and amazing long black hair that cascades from her head
in long straight strands. The small black watt that is on my face, gives a different
look to my face, it adds a certain characteristic that other women don't have. I smile
weakly and my cheeks give in to the elegant dimples that are imprinted on my skin.
My lips part, exposing a perfect ream of milky white teeth. What more could one ask
for? I know that I am not the most beautiful creation among Eve's daughters to ever
walk the earth but I am fit to be seen, loved and prioritized by one man among Adam's
calibre. I mean, I have absolutely everything except the one thing that every woman
dreams about even as she is still a small girl~ a husband. The male idiot that you
wake up to every morning. The same idiot who will make you laugh your lungs out,
make your blood boil in and anger and make crazy love to you, caressing your skin
and tracing each and every feature on your body with his fingers.....I could justify
the physique of my body the whole day and even forget the plan at hand. I fix my
hair in the normal manner, tucking it with pins and letting only two long strands
dangle onto my face. Bordering my face.
After battling with my hair for minutes, I then get dressed. Today I really feel like I
should let loose a bit and live life to the fullest. So I decide to put on a red suede
dungaree, inside I wear a white low necked, short sleeved blouse. Instead of high
heels, I opt for a pair of sneakers. Red lipsticks, a white bucket hat with red flowers
become my final touches to my dressing and I am ready to go. I don't feel like
cooking so, I just make myself a sandwich. After eating, I get into my car and heard
straight to the stadium, where I intend to spend the whole day watching some
cricket.
When I get to the stadium I park my car at the parking station, put on my sheds,
take my drinking bottle with a mixture of juice and vodka and I go and buy my
tickets. I am really hoping to have a good time as long as no idiot is going to come
and screw up my mood because I am in no mood for baloney today.
Its half way through the game and things are looking really good for the team that i
am supporting. I leave my seat, in search of the ice cream men. I really crave some
ice cream. I walk leisurely whilst sipping on my juice that's about to finish. I think i
should go for another refill in my car. One thing for sure, a lady does not carry
alcohol in its real containers. It's best to conceal it by putting it in a different
container. As I am still walking, at the same time replying some messages on my
social media pages, I bump into someone. Their drink spills on my bosom, causing
a high-pitched girly scream to escape my lips as the cold liquid comes into contact
with the soft and sensitive skin of my breasts. I look at myself in absolute shock
and the idiot who spilled liquor on me looks at me, his marble green eyes wide open
and his pink lips ajar in astonishment. It's a white sandy blonde haired male,
about thirty five to forty years old.
"I am very sorry. Here let me help you with that." He says as he takes out some
cloth and he starts to wipe my dungaree top as he continuously apologieses. I watch
every single move that his hands make as he tries to clean the mess that he just
caused. His hand moves up to my open bosom and the idiot tries to wipe my bosom
with his cloth and that earns him a hot punch on his nose which sends him
staggering backwards only to be brought to balance by his entourage of white
acquaintances that was accompanying him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" one of the friends maliciously says and that
makes my blood boil even more. I mean, I am the victim here. The woman whose
breasts were touched by a mere white lunatic, all in the name of wiping juice from
her clothing.
"Listen here you nut head, that idiot tried to touch my breasts all in the name of
wiping them. So you expected me to just watch him disrespect my body and play
along? Well I am not that type." I respond to them in anger.
"It's not like he is interested in you, so don't get ideas. You're not his type." One of
them retreats, his accent rich and depicting a more European back ground.
"As much as I am not his type, it does not make me any less human or woman.
What he did is a violation of my rights and he could pay heavily for it if I choose to
take it up to the law. Lucky him, I decide to warn him myself. Now if you jerks
could excuse me, I have better things to do" I say as I push past them. They shout
curses and insults, calling me names that best describe their female relatives and
certainly not a black woman but I take no heed of them. I have better problems to
deal with than a bunch of sex crazed white male young adults hunting for some
fuck buddies in the full glare of the sun, as the eyes of the innocent observe! I
walked away from them and went to my car to fix myself another mixture, this
time; I put more vodka than juice as a way to calm down my raging emotions that
at their edge. I then get back to where I was sitting before I left and I sat and
watched as the match entwined and neared its end. I am having a really splendid
time, with my team leading. At least one thing among the outrageous preferences I
have taken in my life is working to some positivism. Just that thought puts an
expensive smile on my face, which I know comes courtesy of the vodka that's
making me show my emotion based reactions more than normal.
I get home at around about six in the evening because of the traffic in the city and
the fact that i was driving a little bit slower than normal. I might be a heavy drinker
but i am also a very responsible driver. I just don't want to lose my life because of
recklessness. I get home and i go straight to the comfort of my bed, where i get
engulfed into a peaceful sleep.
Since the University is closed down. I have nothing specific to do. So i spend a full
week at home, doing ordinary house chores that include spring cleaning, gardening
and lazing around. I then fill up the gaps by reading my crime novels that keep my
brain in continuous suspense. Some writers are just so good with creating
suspense. When the weekend comes, I decide to go to a more interesting place and
I opt for the race course. It's best I spend my whole day watching horses and
jockeys that to be confined in the four walls of my lonely house, being tortured by
regret and emotional pain, that I am trying really hard to digest but no one gets
used to pain. We all can't wait the victorious day when it will go away.
I sit in front of the mirror, after bathing and i fix my hair in the normal manner.
Pinning every single strand of hair to my skull except the two strands of hair that
frame my face. I put eye liner and then red lipstick is my signature touch. I decide
to put on a red palazzo, red high heeled wedges and a white string top. A large
straw hat and shades add a spice to my look. I always carry my drinking bottle
every where I go and these days, it carries the combination of Vodka and juice
that's meant to sedate my aching heart.
I sit at my chair at the VIP section, my eyes scanning the place to see if there are
any people that I might be familiar with and there is absolutely no one. Since the
games have not started, I decide to invest my attention to my cell phone, taking
photographs that I use to update my social media pages. I sit patiently at my seat
and I watch each and every step of the game as the game starts until at last it's
about to end. But there is some sort of break. I return my attention back to my cell
phone.
"it's a tight game today isn't it?" a male voice says and I look up, only to see, a tall
white man dressed in white shirt and black trousers, towering me. His masculine
cologne immediately fills my nose.
"It is." I respond, an icy attitude lacing the edges of my voice. I really don't want to
entertain any men, especially white fuck boys who are looking for some fuck buddy
to do a one night stand with. Men are so lame; every single move that they are
going to make is predictable. It makes them boring. Can't anyone introduce a
school for teaching men new courting techniques that apply to the women of this
era?
"My name is..." I cut him before he says anything more.
"Look, I am not in the mood to entertain. Find someone else who is willing to play
dumb with you. I am not in that mood." I respond as I return my attention back to
my cell phone.
"You are one hell of a woman, I see. Stiff principals and all." He says as he settles
for an empty seat beside me.
"Okay fine! What do you exactly want from me? If its sex, then you are barking up
the wrong tree. I am not a commercial sex worker and God forgive your dirty mind
and my Jezebel dressing!" I respond as I stand up, collecting my things and I walk
towards my car. I don't go very far, Mr whatever his name is, gets hold of my hand
and I turn back to face him.
"What the fuck do you want from me!?" I question.
"I want to talk to you..." I cut him before he says anything further.
"You are talking to me aren't you? And what do you want top say that speaks louder
than words? The fact that you love me? The fact that you are attracted to me? And
you will be saying all this just so as to get between my legs and screw the hell out of
me? Okay fine! If its sex that you want then come and get it. At least you can get off
my case." I respond venomously.
"I don't want sex, I want you! The woman who attracted my eyes from a distance."
He responds, causing me to burst out in laughter.
"Strange enough, I am a black woman and you on the other hand are a white man.
Already our skin colors don't agree to your wishes. Now if you could excuse me, I
have somewhere to go." I respond coldly as I yank my hand out of his grip and I race
to my car. And guess what? The idiot follows me! Good Lord, what is it that men find
so fascinating about me? And it must be something temporarily because most of
them don't find the zest to marry me, so what's the use of pursuing me?.. i come to
a sudden halt and i turn back to look at the idiot who says he wants to talk to me.
"Can we please talk? Please?" he says to me.
I exhale loudly before I verbally express the words that are being manufactured in
excess by my intoxicated mind. "What if I agree to whatever you want to say? Then
what? What's your next plan?" I question him, my head jerk to one side in a
questioning manner.
"For now, I haven't said anything. So please, lend me your ears and borrow me
your precious time." He says as he extends an open palm to me.
"Look Mr smart pants, I am not geared up for a relationship. Per say, I don't want a
relationship. So don't waste your precious time with me. If its sex that you want
then okay fine, I will dish it out to you but not a relationship. Not my heart. Facing
the reality at hand of the color bar and all that racist nonsense, you men,
especially white men are only good fuck boys." I respond enchantingly. The man
looks at me with hurt written all over his face but in actual essence, I just told him
the plain truth that everyone ought to know.
"Can I please change your perspective about white men?" he asks.
"You are only a drop in the ocean, what will you change about your people?
Nothing! So please stop this whole advocacy for the redemption of your people
because you won't win this one." I respond.
"Alright fine. But can we talk?" he asks.
"Okay fine." I say to him as I follow him... we spend almost an hour speaking about
a number of things. It's the basic things that any normal strangers can talk about.
This he is doing so as to warm up the mood at hand. I have dated fewer men than
other women have but whatever move that a man does, seems too predictable to me
but I play the idiot for that time frame. And I can't justify Mr. anonymous here and
say, that he is different, he is not!... finally he cuts down to the chase.
"...something about you is attractive. Something that I can't put a finger on attracts
me to you. I would like to spend some time in your company. Since you are not geared
up for a relationship, why don't we become friends? That way, I can easily busk in
your company and at the same time, you get to know me." He says to me... this man
is making another predictable move! If he penetrates my skin in the friendship zone,
it will be easier for him to get under my skin and proclaim his feelings for me;
trapping me into a relationship.... i then decide to change the topic at hand.
"So, tell me, what happened to your nose?" I inquire.
"Oh, this! Some floozy punched me in the nose." He responds.
"Why? What had you done to her?" I question.
"I accidentally spilled juice on her clothing and when I tried to wipe it off, she decided
to punch me straight in the nose." He responds.
"First things first, you should have given her that cloth to do the wiping herself and
secondly, I am that woman who punched you in the face. So do you still want to be
with me?" I ask him, a malicious smile of triumph plastered on my face.
"Yes, I still want to be with you." He responds, in the process dampening up my
mood. I mean, how desperate is he, to be fascinated by a violent woman?
"What good will a violent woman be to you?" I question him in absolute disbelief of
his desperate measures to score a woman.
"One thing for sure, you are not violent but protective of your body. And I worship a
woman who stands her ground." He responds, causing me to role my eyes
dramatically in absolute disbelief.
"You deserve better than me." I respond.
"What if we deserve each other? I rarely fall for any random woman but in your case,
I fell hard. When I saw you, chills ran down my spine." He says.
"One thing for sure, you were attracted by my dressing and not my personality. And
another question, aren't you married yourself?" I question. It's important to be
cautious, least I have an angry white woman pointing a gun at me, telling me to stay
the fuck away from her husband or else, the next time, she will blow my brains out.
"No, I am not married. I was married at some point but I am divorced now." he
responds... this is a typical scenario with the white people. Divorce is such a casual
thing for them. Maybe it's the fact that they don't pay lobola or they are people who
believe in happiness, so if it does not work with this woman, they move on to the
next woman.
"Typical of most white men." I respond.
"Can you stop using the racist view point of things and for once ignore this whole
color thing and see situations for what they are. I am sure right now, you think I
was the man at fault, well no. I was the victim in that whole union. My wife cheated
on me, more than countless times and I couldn't stomach her infidelity, so I decided
to lay low in the marriage. In the mean time, I found myself someone to pass time
with and one thing led to another. Its o happened that my wife caught us in the act
and she got solid ground to go ahead and divorce me. Taking half of what I owned."
He says.
"So, I am the woman you intend to pass time with? The black hogtie you intend to
off load your sexual desires on. After that you go. Well unfortunately, I am sorry.
Even your white skin can't advocate for you to get this woman. Try other women
maybe they might be loose enough to give in to your demands." I respond.
"Can you please stop this racist shit! Please!..." he says, his voice hardening in anger,
causing a malicious smile to creep lazily onto my lips.
"...and no, I don't want to make you a scapegoat for my feelings. I want to build a
relationship with you. Get to know you better, love you and take care of you." He
responds.
"As if I can't love and take good care of myself? The thing is, you Mr. Smart pants
are using witty words to say simple things. You want to get between my legs, all in
the name of a relationship." I respond. Maliciously sarcasm lacing my words.
"I don't want to fuck you! I just want to get to know you better, in a relationship." He
responds defensively as he comes to a sudden halt, turning to face me.
"And tell me something, don't lovers have sex? Unless if you want us to be associates,
operating under business terms with a professional line drawn between the two of
us, mutilating any sexual feelings?" I question him enchantingly.
"Okay, fine! Let's be friends then." He responds.
"It's still going to lead to one thing, you having sex with me! This is a no win situation.
You are at stale mate. You have absolutely no choice but to agree to what I put on
the table. If it was on a normal day when I am fine, I would have allowed you to con
me into a relationship but not today. I am okay with a one night stand but not a
relationship." I say to him.
"Okay, whatever works for you. In the mean time, can I get your number at least?"
He says as he hands me his cell phone. I take it and hesitantly put in my number
and I hand it back.
"So what do I save it as?" he questions, arching his thick eyebrow upwards in
question.
"Save it as Red." I respond.
"Is that your real name?" He questions, both of his eyebrows arched upwards,
furrowing his forehead in question.
"That's the name that you will use Mr fuck boy. And besides, I don't think most
people get to know the names of their fuck buddies. It's just the sex and nothing
more over laps the physical boundaries of relieving our lust." I respond.
"I am really hurt by the way you think of me." He responds, his voice heavy with
emotion.
"This is why I am saying this whole thing you are trying to put in place will never
work. So it's best you leave it at a one night stand. That I will gladly stand up for.
Thank for your time. Have a good life." I respond as I walk away from him, heading
straight to my car. Before I reach my car, my cell phone rings, I take it out to see who
the caller is and it's an unknown number. When I answer the call, the caller says to
me:
"I was just checking whether or not it's a real number." He says and I turn my head
to look back and the idiot is standing there, his phone held to the ear and a proud
smile plastered on his lips. Men are such idiots. Even if I gave him my actual number,
I can ignore his calls if I choose to and this time, he won't be able to even explain
himself to me!
Right now, I am going home. I don't have time to be meandering around like a
homeless idiot who is hoping to get someone to crash with for the night in exchange
for sex.
Before I go home, I pass by town buying some groceries. Staying at home makes you
eat more than normal and hence, I had run out of most of my supplies. Sometime
during this week, I would have to visit the farms to get fresh supplies of meat, milk,
eggs, peanut butter, legumes and mealie-meal. I am a woman who takes pride in her
cultural foods, so when other people buy rice and all those other things, I opt to buy
samp. I walk out of the shop carrying a paper bag full of my monthly supplies.
Upon getting home, I make something light to eat and I retire to bed. But before I
sleep, I read my novel. Half chapter would do the trick for me. I read for thirty minutes
and finally I stop reading and rest my head tiredly on the pillow hoping to sleep. As
I close my eyes, my cell phone vibrates, indicating an incoming message. I take my
cell phone and it's a message from the white fuck boy, texting to see if I am still
awake and I don't bother to respond to the message, because like I said to him earlier
on, I am not geared up for any affairs and I don't want to even perpetuate the idea of
ever being in a relationship anytime soon.
Like every person in the world, I live a routine life and now that, the University has
closed down, I have no choice but to spend my time at home. I have done everything
to perfection and now, all that I do is to laze around, reading my novels. They are
what occupy my mind these days. My cell phone rings and I pick it up, without
looking at the caller ID.
"Hello." I Answer.
"Red, hie. How are you?" the masculine voice with an accent asks on the other end
of the cell phone and it registers that it's only that white fuck boy.
"Well, hello. Having an erection already? Text the address so that I can come and get
it fixed for you." I respond, an icy attitude lacing the ages of my voice.
"Can you stop saying that and for once take this thing seriously....." he says after
exhaling. I cut him before he says anything further.
"Look, whatever you want to try won't work. I am still the same woman you met on
that day and my guard still stands. Don't waste your precious time trying to peruse
what you won't get. Move on and live your life. This I am saying partially for my own
benefit and also for your benefit individually. Don't walk into the fire." I say to him,
my voice stern and warning. Any normal men in their rightful senses would have
backed down but not this idiot. He kept on trying to manipulate my heart. The next
thing I did was to put the cell on my desk and I walked out of the house to my garden,
where I sat and resumed reading my novel, leaving him to speak alone since he seems
ignorant to basic cautioning.
It's been two full days and the idiot calls and texts continuously until finally I agree
to meeting him. I know it sounds a bit too weak of me, but what choice do I have but
give him a shot to it and see how he handles a situation. Besides, I am bored and I
need something to toy around with, just for the fun of it. I will make this one more
of a passive relationship..... So, on the day of the occasion, I decide to put on a white
long sleeved shirt-like blouse, its sleeves rolled up. Golden tubby bangles grace each
of my hands. A knee high red skirt with a hilariously high vent and red pointed heels
finish off my look. Red lipstick and expensive perfume then grace my body and I am
good to go. Like I wear it, my hair is always suspended on my head and today is no
different.
I arrive at the up-market restaurant, packed with people of different colors, but
especially white people and other rich natives who wear the fragrance of money on
their bodies. A quick scan of the people in the building makes me locate the idiot
who invited me here. He is dressed in a white shirt, which clings to his body tightly.
Acting almost like a second skin, in the process, exposing his muscular physique.
The shirt is semi buttoned at the top, revealing a flawless chest. His sleeves are rolled
upwards, revealing a thick mass of body hair on his arms. I walk up to his table and
I stand in front of an empty chair.
"I don't want to order anything as yet; I am still waiting for someone." He says
dismissively, his attention still invested to his cell phone.
"When you wait for a woman, you shouldn't left her suffer the burden of looking for
you in the masses of people sitting in this restaurant of yours." I say to him as I take
a sit, opposite him.
"You made it." He says as he looks at me, a triumphant smile plastered on his pink
lips.
"how could I not, yet you wanted to burst my cell phone with a thousand messages
that kept on coming despite the fact that I was ignoring them. You are really
something foreign in the game, because any ordinary man would have seen that there
are some things that he could not attain in his life and aborted the attempts that fell
on deaf ears." I respond.
"Patience pays and l can testify to that. Here I am, sitting at this table with this
beautiful woman." He says as he smiles triumphantly. We make basic conversation
and we finally order and during the course of the meal. He corners me into an
interrogative conversation, which ends up in me knowing more of him than he does
of me. The thing about men is that they are quick to dish out information about
themselves, all in the glory of entertaining a woman and wanting to show a woman
that she can be taken care of, if she agrees to start a relationship with them. But
then, this man I am sitting with right here is different, he does not speak of his
financially assets or what he does as a living. He speaks more of his social life. This
being an evident sign that he like me is a secretive person.
He says a lot of jokes though and that helps to atone for the empty conversation that
the two of us are hosting currently. After the enjoyable meal, which again raised an
argument as he wanted to pay for me but I refused, till finally gave up, we walked
out of the restaurant and he takes me to my car.
"And this is me." I say to him as I open the door of my car.
"I guess this is where we go our separate ways?" he says as he holds my hands into
his, forcing me to face him, thinking that maybe I would become shy. Well, not this
woman! I returned the favor back to him and I stared him straight in the eyes. Don't
think that, there was some chemistry here, no! I was just fascinated by his blue-grey
eyes that seem very familiar.
"Yes. And since I have given you the chance to spend time with me. I guess, this
might be a good time to also stop this nonsense of calling and texting, because like I
said before, this is not going to work." I say to him enchantingly but still maintaining
eye contact. Eye contact isn't so hard for me, because men don't have to look down
upon me like the rest of the short women. I am a tall woman and so, with the aid of
heels, I level up with most men or I become the taller one in the equation, hence
giving me the upper hand to think and act soberly.
"Wow, this is going to be harder than I thought it would be." He says again as his
smile melts away and his large masculine hands let go of mine and he shoves them
into his chino trousers pockets, in the process exhaling loudly.
"Going for some lunch with a woman is not going to change the way she feels. If
that's how you usually scored your women, then revise your courting techniques and
upgrade to something better and besides, like I said before this will never work." I
say to him, causing him to exhale in defeat.
"Can I ask, what do I have to do in order to make you know or feel that I like you?"
He asks his voice low and reasoning.
"Nothing. There is nothing that you can do or say that can change my mind. And
after all, even if you walk away from me, you have nothing to lose. It's not like you
invested a certain asset in me that you fear losing." I say to him.
"I have everything to lose! I have you to lose! And I guarantee you, there is absolutely
no replica that can make me feel the way I do right now." he says as he looks at me,
straight in the eyes, trying to make me feel guilty, through the dramatic facial
expression on his eyes.
"Are you sure that you love someone or you are obsessed. Because according to what
I see, you are obsessed and obsession is dangerous. It will cause me to get some
restraining order from the police so that you can get off my case." I respond.
"Please, give me a chance please." He pleads with me and just those words melt a
certain part in me. I detect some weakness, creeping in and i really hate it when this
feeling gets to be in control. I exhale audibly.
"Tell me something, what exactly do you see in this woman that you so much peruse?
How different is she from the other women that walk the busy streets of Harare?" I
question, moving my head to one side in a questioning manner.
"One thing for sure, you are different from the other women. I cannot exactly pinpoint
the source of uniqueness but I can feel it and I am sure that any other men in the
streets can feel it too. Your distinctiveness is blue printed beyond the physical
bonuses of beauty and physical structure. You carry an aura that very few women
in this day and age carry.... even words can't adequately describe what I see in you."
He says to me. And this comment brings from the back of my head a lot of memories.
Reminiscences of men telling me about this quality, yet they fail to stomach it. The
greatest question is, how different is he from the rest of the man that once
approached me but failed to even take me into their residences? Men who barely got
to know my name, later alone what I desire the most.
"Are you going to handle what you desire?" I question him, this time looking
searchingly in his eyes for clues of honesty.
"Of course, I will." He responds as he takes my hands into his and pulls me closer to
his body, such that I inhale his expensive cologne.
"I am not like every woman, I am different. Most men usually don't have the power
to handle me, what makes you think that you are going to deal with the imperfections
that complete the other half of my personality?" I question, my heart beating loudly
in my ears, from the fear that still lingers in my heart. The fear of falling into yet
another relationship that will leave me scarred and at the losing end.
"Trust me with your heart and above all, entrust yourself to me. I will love and cherish
you, in every step of this relationship." He says to me. His voice low and assuring. I
look in his eyes one more time and my heart melts even more. I exhale as a way to
compose myself, in the process pulling my hands out of his grip.
"If you ever break my heart after pleading like this, I really don't know what I will do
to you because, one thing for sure, you did plead with me! And you changed my mind
even though i had made it up" I respond as I feel tears burning my eyes. Tears that
describe the fear that torturers my heart, the fear of heart break and disappointment.
The man comes closer to me and he draws me into his arms and takes me into an
embrace. For some time, he holds me in his arms in assurance and I feel safe in his
arms. I live in the moment yet I know that this affair won't go very far. This one is a
casual affair that will end like all the other affairs, so in this one, I will pack my hopes
of marriage away and enjoy the feelings that come as a bonus of the companionship.
After briefly talking, I then decide to go home and... I kick off my shoes and head
straight to my bedroom and I collapse into bed. Mental exhaustion took the best of
me, regarding that I was doing some serious thinking as I was driving back home.
My eye lids slowly get heavy and I ease into sleep.