Beginning of an Era. Part Two.

 

I remember vividly one day we were having an argument about what we were would be doing during the weekend. She wanted to hang out with her friends while I felt that she was abandoning me. I did not tell her how I felt however. Males hate expressing their feelings particularly when the issue is insecurity. That Friday, we came from class, argued split ways, texted and then agreed to meet.

 

We met at her hostel gate and to my surprise she was dressed ready to go out. I was beyond offended, mostly because she had done exactly what I had disapproved but also because I had used up the afternoon sipping some lethal spirit and I was high as expectations. In fact all this time I had been carrying a bottle on my back pocket. I had moved from beers to whiskey and now to vodkas and spirits in one year.

 

Looking back, every time I got angry at her, I turned to alcohol, every single time. During that time and even much later, I can barely remember a time I was sober on a weekend.

 

So, that day we argued and argued, I was trying to waste her time so that she would not leave but then I was mistaken. A car, a Toyota Harrier to be precise, came and stopped just before us. Her new friend shouted to her from inside. I could make out that there were two guys in the car and one lady but I could be wrong because alcohol attacks even your eyesight. We had been arguing for more than thirty minutes without a resolve so she just got into the car. I took out my alcohol bottle and threw it at the Car and it hit the car by the side. Still, nobody came out from the car, my purple queen was probably begging the guys not to come out or not, either way, they just left and a fell on my knees disappointed beyond words. Little did I know that that shenanigan marked the beginning of something I would never recover from.

 

The events that followed that night, I can barely recall. All I know is that she had pushed me beyond my breaking point. I had never resulted to any kind of violence my entire life plus you do remember I was a Christian Union official. Jesus pleads peace and reconciliation, not destruction and loss of self-control. I wonder what he would have done had he found himself in a similar situation.

 

The days that followed we barely spoke. Tony had highlighted however that she had never come back from wherever she had gone during the weekend. I stuck to my room most of the times, sometimes, high, others crying but I was slowly sinking into depression. My friends noticed and with friends like mine, there can never be depression. I remember one week we swore to party Monday to Saturday and rest in Sunday and we did. Hiding from problems worked out in a way.

 

Then, it happened, that we got invited to an all-white party. People were already used to us as a couple so we got the invitation as a couple too. Things had been tense between us but she found a way to ask me if we would be attending that party. I declined and she said that she would be attending the party. I would have liked to go too but I had a point to prove and I was not backing out by any means.

 

She went for the party while I stayed back but around eleven, I felt that I had had enough, I called our cab guy who took me to the party. I walked right across a circle of her and her friends, held her hand and dragged her to the cab with me. She never resisted, in fact, her handbag and phone had to be brought back to her much later. I took her to my house, by now I had stopped living in a hostel room and I had a one bedroom apartment. The week that followed we stayed indoors, taking, watching movies and other things but no one touched on the reason why we had argued.

 

Our relationship was like that, it was volcano that would explode and then become dormant only to explode a little later. My purple queen.

 

The gruesome breakup came after I caught wind of her unfaithfulness with older guys during the weekends she used to go for her exotic dates with her outlandish friends in pricey cars and noteworthy lifestyles. I did not bother to verify the rumors or ask of their validity I was just done. I had tried to savage the bits of good things left but I could not and I was tired of trying.

 

It barely took me a week after the breakup to start dating another girl and another and another. Come to think of it was barely dating but just fun, pain, alcohol, loneliness and sex. I forced an amnesia upon my memories and toasted each night to the beautiful girls that were so welcoming as if they had been waiting for this chance.

 

Such a life can be lonely and cold, even when you are in a room full of people. It was cold. I vividly remember the feeling of loneliness and a cold shiver runs down my spine. I had stopped attending classes or studying so I would only show up for a cat and an exam. I got deeper and deeper into the abyss until I thought I was a lost course.

 

Whoever does not believe in God, surely has a reasoning problem because I cannot remember how I met Teddy and Louise in my lows and we became instant friends. What amused me so much about them was their view on life. Teddy sounded inexperienced but had the intelligence of books while Louise was simply a pessimist who had very strong opinions on loving oneself hard such that letting people in is almost impossible.

 

Then we got close and I felt it was the right time to deep my feet into the field of dating again, this time the right way so I met Liz. She was beautiful and again I could feel myself creeping back to the parts that had been completely annihilated before. We built something beautiful together but it was built on a lie, I had never told her the things I had gone through after our break up with Daisy.

 

When I finally did, I had opened a Pandora’s Box where every move was accompanied with distrust and accusations. I had locked parts of my emotional being and countless time I tried to reach them unsuccessfully. We broke up after six months and again I found myself dating again, only this time it was not just anyone but Daisy all over again.

 

 

Feature Image by Mukiri Gitiri

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Dennis Peters

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