Tag Archives: Dating

No romance without finance?

no romance without finance

Love doesn’t discriminate; like a weed, it can sprout just about anywhere. That is what I learned as I was growing up. It doesn’t look at how deep pockets are, or one’s skin colour, race, religion etc… and it’s for all- both the haves and the have nots. That is the kind of love I grew up knowing.

Looking at current dating trends though, I’m inclined to believe somewhere down the line things changed. Love changed; or the concept of love at least. They said money can’t buy love, but to some extent I beg to differ. Nowadays people consider one’s payslip before they can say the three words, eight letters: I love you.

Money may not buy one love, but it will buy them someone who pretends to love them. Technically I wouldn’t call that love, but that seems to be the new face of love. Relationships-most of them-have been re-defined by the ‘no romance without finance’ concept.

Sometimes I’m left wondering; does it mean only well-heeled people can find life partners? And if that is the case, what will happen to those who earn meagre wages? Will they be condemned to solitude just because they can’t afford romantic dates/getaways in high end resorts?

I particularly empathize with men who don’t earn much because with the way things are going, majority of women want to don designer apparels, live in mansions and drive luxury cars and as it is, in a family setting, the man is considered the main provider; ergo, if a guy can’t afford his woman’s expenses, he stands a high risk of losing her to a moneyed bloke.

Sadly, that- as I said before- is the new face of love; the rich takes it all. What makes it even more complicated is the fact that even if a guy isn’t particularly wealthy but the wife is, there tend to be issues. Low self-esteem on the guy’s part and all.

Recently, I was listening to this debate on radio about a guy who had beef with his wife: He had lost his job so his wife, who was the sole breadwinner, suggested he stay home and look after their daughter. She said it would be easier if he babysat as that would help do away with unnecessary costs. He wasn’t the least bit pleased.

Many guys called in to give their two-cents-worth on the matter and no one seemed okay with the idea of a man staying home while the woman brought the dough, with some citing emasculation. Personally I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, but I’m thinking it has to do with the male ego, which I totally understand.

The reason I brought that debate up is to show why men still feel the need to be the ones making more money in a relationship. It’s a burden placed on them by the society. That said, I feel it shouldn’t be that way. I understand money is an important thing, but it shouldn’t be the defining factor in matters love.

Some months ago I wrote a post about gold-digging, giving an example of a cousin of mine, who moved to the city in search of a tycoon. Her mom was very happy telling mom on phone how her daughter was bent on finding herself a rich guy, and concerned, mom just told her to ask my cousin not to take anyone’s husband.

About a fortnight ago, mom called my aunt to ask if my cousin could come work in her beauty spa as she specialized in that field. Turns out my cousin couldn’t make it since she recently gave birth. Her mom, voicing her displeasure, said my cousin just had to get herself pregnant. “Now she would have come to work, but she can’t.”

Based on what mom told me, my aunt sounded clearly pissed. When she learned about my cousin’s state she sent her last born daughter to go get her sister, who was still in the city. The news had me gobsmacked; my cousin was back home, without her rich tycoon, jobless and with a baby. Considering her initial motives, project tycoon sounded like a backfired plan.

I felt bad for her, mainly for one reason. At gram’s funeral last October, she was in the company of a cute guy, but apparently she didn’t want him as he wasn’t rich. Love is more than money. If she had stayed with him, chances are right now they would both have well-paying jobs and her baby would have a present dad. They would have made a really cute family.

Money isn’t everything. Sometimes the people with the most money are the unhappiest. And true love is rare. It’s like a comet; comes once in God-knows how many years. If one finds someone who loves them for real, they should stick by them, and curve out a path together-in riches and poverty.

Additionally, money comes and goes. So what happens to a relationship which started as a ‘business’? You know, buy me a Porsche, and I will… (Fill blank space) etc. kinda deals. What happens when all the money runs out? Do the partners start regrouping, finding other mates who are more loaded? That isn’t love.

Some of my cousin’s older siblings were even hoping their sister didn’t catch something in the process. It’s just sad. Sometimes we find love and just blow it because the person doesn’t have money.

The way I see it, becoming a millionaire is hard, but it’s easier than finding true love. If one finds love, they should hold on to it. Money will come when it comes.

The problem with love

cheating men

Loving the wrong person can make someone hate love, and even feel like they are worthless. There’s this show I was watching: a beautiful woman falls in love with a rich guy who’s practically a brat in every sense of the word. He has a personal servant, who tags along wherever he goes, to perform petty tasks like lighting fire at night when he takes his girlfriend camping; saddling his horse, because his family owns the biggest ranch in that town; carry picnic baskets.

The rich guy can barely handle a horse, yet he arrogantly challenges his servant, who is a rodeo champion, to a race; just to show off. Backstage, he has another one of his men threaten the servant so he can deliberately lose the race. According to them, a servant shouldn’t outshine their master.

Because of his inflated ego, he beats his naïve girlfriend whenever the opportunity presents itself, reminding her he’s the one who feeds her family as her parents work in his ranch, which is actually owned by his grandmother.

His idea of impressing girls is going on and on for hours about how much his family owns; and that the girl who marries him will be lucky because she will be the queen of that ranch when it’s finally bequeathed to him, even though he is second in line, after his equally arrogant dad.

When he is not too busy bragging about his family’s wealth, he is a reckless drunk, who sleeps with just about anyone in a skirt. All this happens while he still feigns faithfulness to his girlfriend, who is completely oblivious to his sexual shenanigans.

Unluckily, he sleeps with one of the housemaids, who is only too eager to share her erotic experience with the boss, with the rest of the maids. While the maid is giving details of what the boss did to her, the girlfriend walks in and gets to hear everything because the maid doesn’t see her approaching from behind.

Obviously the girlfriend gets all worked up and confronts the boyfriend. In the heat of the moment she slaps him hard across his face, accusing him of cheating on her. The unapologetic boyfriend asks her to get out of his sight, and as she leaves, all the fury turns into pain and she starts sobbing. All this while, as the confrontation is going down, the servant is watching because he was talking with the boss when the girlfriend walked in.

The servant is a caring guy, and hates the way his boss treats women; and his girlfriend in particular. The boss leaves for the city, leaving a distraught girlfriend behind. Enraged, she threatens to commit suicide, citing low self-worth. Her jerk of a boyfriend was apparently the best thing that ever happened to her and now that she doesn’t have him, she doesn’t desire to continue living.

I watch painfully as she cries uncontrollably, asking what’s wrong with her; why men seem to trivialize her that way. The caring servant consoles her, asking her not to give up on life just because she ran into a hurdle. He tells her not to take her own life because life has so much to offer still.

By the time the show ends, the girl is still attempting to commit suicide. The servant forcefully carries her on his shoulder, taking her to his house so he can keep a close look on her. She only calms down when she comes down with a fever after staying out in the cold for too long.

The girl is obviously crushed, that her boyfriend cheated on her. I would feel the same way too if I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me. What I couldn’t agree with was the idea of her threatening to take her own life because now her life has lost meaning.

For starters, the servant she was with is a really nice guy. He is not wealthy, but his girlfriend would be a very lucky woman. The reason he, on the other hand, is single is because he feels he is so poor, he wouldn’t have anything to offer a woman.

As I watch the two, I can’t help wondering; if they were to become an item, they would make an amazing couple. The girl likes the guy, only as a friend, so I have a feeling she wouldn’t mind dating him, and the guy would in turn treat her like a queen with the little he has. Both would have the best of love.

The woman feels inadequate because she dates the wrong men, who make her feel worthless. If she dated the right guy, like the servant, who unlike the rich, bratty boss, is humble and caring, she wouldn’t feel so worthless because he would treat her right.

Sometimes we love the wrong people and end up hurting. As a result we hate love and feel worthless. If one is in a relationship where they feel unhappy, they should ‘step out’ of the relationship, and weigh things from a third person’s perspective. By doing that, one might end up realizing they are not the ones with the problem but their partners.

Like the girl; she would notice the problem is she loves and trusts a guy who doesn’t deserve her. He beats her, cheats on her, and she still manages to feel like she is the one at fault; and while she is going through all that heartbreak, he is in the city saying “I love you baibe,” to a woman he just met. She should say good riddance and find a guy who will love her right, and treat her like the queen she is.

 

Shoddy first date: Part 3

online dating 3

He excused himself and left with the package he had with him, while I found my way to the nearest couch, leaving the door wide open in case I needed to make a quick exit. For the few minutes he was gone, I pondered over my actions. If anything happened to me, God-forbid-I figured I would be entirely to blame for my poor judgement.

Trying to keep myself occupied lest I started panicking, I went through his collection of music CDs appreciating his choice of songs. Other than the fact that I was already pissed for having let myself get tricked into going to his house, and was already over cautious, waiting for just about anything to happen, I acknowledged he had a good taste in clothes, music, interior decor…if we became more than online acquaintances, we would have very little to argue about.

“Feel free sweetie, this is your home now,” he pacified me when he walked in. He took his jacket off, exposing his muscled chest that was only covered in a black fitting t-shirt. Then he stretched out his arms, taking my hands in his and he pulled me up to my feet. Releasing one of my hands, he reached for the remote and switched the TV on, bringing the room to life as soft music played.

He put his arms around my waist and I curved mine round his neck and slowly we swayed to the tuneful music.

“So did you think about my proposal?” He asked me.

“What proposal?” I asked in reply.

“To marry me.”

“But you hardly know me.”

“I feel I know you enough to want you to be my wife.”

“I still feel we don’t know each other well,” I said firmly.

I had already crossed very many lines on our first date. I was in his living room, in his arms, discussing marriage, and even though he didn’t seem like he had any intentions of hurting me, I felt we weren’t following the ‘proper procedure’. We had hit the ground running, instead of taking time to get the basics.

“Come with me,” he said, urging me to follow him to a room I supposed was his bedroom. “I left in a hurry. I didn’t get time to make my bed.”

“No,” I refused, breaking free from his embrace.

“Just come,” he begged, almost sweetly, “you’re just going to help me. I promise you nothing will happen.”

“No!” Finally, angry me surfaced. At that point I didn’t even care about first impressions anymore. I just couldn’t take more of it. “This is definitely not going according to plan. You showed up late, tricked me into coming to your house, we haven’t had lunch and it’s way past lunch time, and now you want to sleep with me? This doesn’t feel like a first date anymore.”

It was already past three and I didn’t feel like we were making any progress. I always doubted he was celibate as he claimed to be and even after he asked me to marry him, I felt he was only looking for a woman he could legally sleep with as he also claimed to be saved. That had me feeling he hadn’t put much thought into the proposal. It didn’t matter if it was me, or any other woman he picked from the streets, so long as it was a woman; someone who could relieve his carnal urges. That thought alone had me infuriated.

In his defence, he said he was so aroused, and the more I listened to him speak the more I was convinced I had unknowingly availed myself for a booty call. “I am not sleeping with you,” I told him crossly.

“Then why did you come here?” He retorted. “I left another girl so I could come meet you.”

“We both know you deceived me into coming here. Even if I was to sleep with you, it definitely wouldn’t be today. Not after we just met.”

“What kind of men do you go out with?” He bit back in his diva tone that hurt me in ways so unimaginable.

“You don’t know me, I don’t know you. That’s why.”

“I know you,” he maintained.

“Fine then, you know me. So what’s my real name?”

Feeling cornered, he slumped himself on the couch, rubbing his forehead frantically. “What’s my name?” I repeated, although I knew I had never told him my real name. I just wanted to drive a point home; that we didn’t know each other well enough to be engaging in coitus. “You don’t know my name, and you still want to sleep with me.”

Hurt, and knowing there was nothing he could say to make it better, I grabbed my bag and left. Months of talking and chatting online had ended within three hours of our meeting. I had hoped he would be different from all the messed up dating stories I had heard of before, but that encounter only convinced me more, that online dating never really amounts to anything serious.

First thing I did after I left his house, I logged into FB and unfriended and blocked him, hoping I would never hear from him or see him again. He didn’t call or text me that day or the next but weeks later he called and I refused to pick up. I’ve never talked to him ever since.

When I look back, I always count my blessings. I left a stranger’s house unharmed. I know I agreed to go with him because I was hopeful he was a genuine guy. Talking with him constantly had put me under the impression he was trustworthy, sweet, caring, charming; but in all honesty, I know that was a very foolish mistake I made. I shouldn’t have been so gullible.

 

Shoddy first date: Part 2

online dating 2

There was no way I was going to leave the house on a rainy Friday to go meet up with a guy I had never met before; someone I had just met online. I really wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing by agreeing to meet up with him. I hoped it would rain so I would have a valid reason to cancel our date.

Friday came, and the day couldn’t have been more beautiful. The radiant sun was out in all its glory. My one valid excuse to bail had just been quashed. With no other excuse to give, I dressed up and left the house.

We had agreed to meet around one in the afternoon for lunch, and he insisted I show up on time so we could spend some more time together. I took a cab to the coffee house we had agreed to meet up in, and I was a bit shocked to find he hadn’t arrived yet. He had been the one insisting I show up on time and there I was, waiting for him to come.

The whole thing had me so nervous and I didn’t feel like I wanted to wait for a guy I barely knew. As the cab had already left, I walked to a nearby mall where some friends worked. I decided it was better to go wait there; that way I would still see my friends. Additionally, he had told me his mom ran a clothes store in the same mall; he wouldn’t have a hard time finding me.

Close to an hour later, he called me asking where I was. I gave him the directions and he came for me. If ever I could choose the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, it would be him. I had seen his photos, but he was way cuter in person. I couldn’t believe my luck.

The thing about meeting people online is that you feel you know them but when you see them you realize you’re just perfect strangers. Normally I would have flung my arms around him in a warm embrace, but that was our first meeting. I didn’t know whether to hug him or just settle for a basic handshake. It felt awkward.

Smiling I just said, “You’re late.” He found me talking to one of my friends

I introduced them by their names without adding any titles. My friend assumed he was my boyfriend as we excused ourselves and left, with my hand in his. We took an elevator down but as there were other people inside we didn’t say a word. When we got out of the mall, he apologized for showing up late and told me there were some documents he needed to drop urgently.

He asked if I would be kind enough to accompany him so we could have lunch right after, and though I was reluctant at first, I agreed. The entire time I was with him in the car, I questioned my own judgement. How could I let a total stranger whisk me off to some unknown place?

Nevertheless, I sat quietly, ignoring his obvious ogling. I tried not to blush as he complimented me, telling me how beautiful I was. As I couldn’t guarantee my safety in a stranger’s hands, I kept texting my sister, telling her where we had reached in case something happened. I hoped nothing would happen though.

Half an hour later, we stopped outside a residential gate. Security guards pulled the gates open and the car pulled up in the car park. Loud alarms went off in my head with red neon lights flashing doggedly. I put all my guards up, realizing that he had tricked me into going to his place, on our very first date.

The thought that we had never been out before, and the fact that we had met online necessitated that we meet in a public place; but there I was, in his house. I couldn’t believe I had let myself get fooled. For a nanosecond I almost hated myself for my utter lack of judgement. The gentleman he was, he rounded the car and came to get the door for me before leading me to the house.

Quietly, I watched as he opened the door to his house. The ‘documents’ he had were apparently meant for a neighbour. I imagined it couldn’t have been that urgent.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing me to your house,” I told him, my temper already rising, partly for his two-facedness and for my absolute foolishness. Still, I didn’t want to make a bad first impression; I tried not to lose my cool. “This is not what we agreed on.”

“It won’t take long,” he replied innocently. He had a way of getting me to accept things I wasn’t okay with, feigning a very submissive tone, even though normally he just came off as macho. I knew if ever we became anything important-more than online acquaintances- I would never have to worry about him protecting me; he seemed so capable. The version of him I had met online was just perfect-almost. I hoped that was how he was in reality, so I wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

I was tempted to cut and run, but the little voice in my head told me I would appear a scaredy-cat if he was in deed an honest guy. Cautiously, I went in, hoping I would come out in one piece…

Shoddy first date: Part 1

online dating

Online dating, does it ever amount to anything important?

I wouldn’t want to speak for anyone but speaking from my own experiences, I feel people just go online to find ‘quickie’ mates. Maybe someone might want to argue that it really works, but after two failed attempts, very little could convince me to give it another try. I’m inclined to believe that only a handful could bear witness to dating successfully with someone they met online.

The first time I met a guy online, it just happened. I’ve always been sceptical about getting too close to people I’ve never met in real life but months of regular chatting had me thinking I was head-over-heels-in love with the said guy. At first I was reluctant about opening myself to the possibility of an online romance but slowly, with enough prodding from him I let loose and gave in.

By the time I started contemplating an actual relationship with him, we had gone for long chatting online and talking for long hours on end. Unfortunately, he bailed the instant he felt it was becoming too real. That ephemeral relationship had me hitting reset. I went back to being sceptical me; ever cautious of online relationships.

Months later, I was taking my driving lessons on a chilly morning when my phone rang. I didn’t know the number, so I didn’t pick up. Almost an hour later the same number called. Curious to know who was calling, I picked up. If people fall in love with people’s voices, I fell in love with the caller’s voice. He called me by my Facebook nom de plume, so I instantly figured he had found my number from my page.

The previous failed relationship was still fresh in my mind. I didn’t want to give him much attention, afraid I would get sucked in like I had previously. Slowly, days turned to weeks, weeks to months. One evening he called me up, and told me it had been five months since we started talking.

I had never once given the conversations we used to have any importance. That said, I was impressively stunned that he had been ‘keeping tabs’ on our seemingly unimportant ‘relationship’. From my own observation, most men seem to suffer from selective amnesia and the fact that he had been taking our relationship seriously enough to know how long it had been since we started talking made me give the whole thing a second thought.

Unlike many guys I had met before, he didn’t seem too interested in sex; he seemed somewhat discreet on the matter. At some point he told me he had been celibate for two years and was now waiting to ‘give it up’ to his legal wife. At first I found it corny but with time he almost had me convinced. But again, sceptical me couldn’t buy the ‘abstinence’ claims.

In all honesty, I found many things about him really admirable. For instance, when I told him I was working on a school project, he offered to help, so I could get done with it fast, and unlike the first guy, he seemed genuinely interested in me as a person, as opposed to viewing me as just another woman he could sleep with. He told me so much about himself and while I wasn’t so forthcoming about my personal details (for security reasons) I contemplated opening up to him if/when we met.

Then, he suggested we should meet up. I didn’t feel like we had known each other well enough to meet, so everytime he brought the issue up I would find an excuse to stall. By that time he had already started taking things too seriously. This I felt after I found an ‘I love you’ post on my wall.

I felt the declaration was premature, so I just told him there were things he didn’t know about me as we had never met. He kept on pushing it, insisting we should meet until, he called me on my birthday’s eve, minutes after midnight. He sang me happy birthday, with his oh-so-beautiful voice and cheerfully he said, “Now you’re old enough to become my wife.”

I didn’t refuse his proposal directly. I just giggled and told him I felt he was making a rash decision; and that if he learned everything there was to know about me, flaws and all, and still wanted to marry me, then I would marry him. He was six years my senior.

He offered to take me out to celebrate, but then he wasn’t my boyfriend; I refused. By the time I went to bed that night however, he had managed to get me to agree to meet him. We agreed to meet up that coming Friday, five days after my birthday. But then as I wasn’t too sure I was doing the right thing-meeting a guy I had met online-I told him we would only meet if it didn’t rain as it was December…

Women are gold diggers: part two

In my opinion, men are right when they say women are gold-diggers; but only to some extent. This said, I feel they make a grave mistake when they assume all women are gold-diggers. It’s extremely offensive when an honest woman is treated as one; as a gold digger.

Last month my sister was trying to find a company where she could intern. A friend of hers, who works in a bank, helped her secure a position in one of their branches. When my sister told him she had gotten the internship, he light-heartedly told her she owed him a few drinks.

Friday, that same week, he called her in the morning before she left for school asking her out later in the evening. They had never gone out before as he was engaged when they first met and was going to tie the knot in a few weeks; however he and his fiancée split up last year. Thrilled, my sister agreed to it, thinking he wanted to take her out as it was her birthday.”

When my sister came back home, she wouldn’t stop complaining how unchivalrous the guy had been. Apparently they had gone to two clubs and in both places she had paid for all their drinks.

“I know he had said I owed him a few drinks for helping me get the internship,” she complained, looking visibly disappointed, “but he asked me out. And this was our first time out together. He should at least have offered to go dutch.”

I tried pacifying her, even though I found myself lost for words. I was of the same opinion, that since he asked her out he should have paid for the drinks. I reasoned, if she had asked him out it would have been okay for her to foot the bill, but he asked her out; plus that was their first time out together.

Sometimes I like to think of myself as a little traditional. Maybe I’m wrong; but first impressions really matter. I have no issue paying bills or going dutch with a guy, just not on the first date. And if I do it, I would love to be the one who offers to pay half or all of it, and not because I was pushed to it.

“I’m never going out with him again,” she vowed. “He let me pay the bill, and he knew it was my birthday.”

I couldn’t blame her for her decision. If I was in her situation I wouldn’t either.

While they were talking about him getting her an internship, he told her teaching was his first love. Even though he worked in a bank, he worked part-time as a lecturer and would love to get a permanent teaching job. She asked him to apply for a job in the university she goes to.

After their night out, they rarely talk. Yesterday he sent her a copy of the CV he had sent to her school applying for a position as a lecturer. In the CV he had indicated how much he makes per month at the bank. He could be the next multi-millionaire in town for all I know; if he’s not one already. After getting over my shock, I started wondering why he would bother to send her a copy of his CV when there’s nothing she could do to help him get the job, as much as she wanted to return the favour. I just assumed he wanted to impress her with the money; anyone could be lured by that enormous figure. Maybe I was wrong.

He could be a generous guy, but the thought that he let my sister pay for their drinks on their first ‘date’ and on her birthday, had me thinking he’s just stingy. He had the chance to make a good first impression, but he blew it. In my opinion he broke at least all rules of dating etiquette. My sister already vowed to never go out with him, simply because she deduced he was ungallant; tight-fisted. If ever she went out with him again in future, it wouldn’t be for his charm but solely for the money.

Luckily for him, my sisters and I know in life there are things that are far more important than money. It may sound hypocritical to some, but truth is money is not everything. I know of guys who earn meagre wages but never miss the chance to treat a woman like a lady. Not all women are money-minded; chasing men only for their wealth. All they hope to get from a man are the small gestures, like him pulling out a sit for her, paying the bill-even if it’s only on the first date…

In short, not all women are gold diggers. In the process of trying to impress a woman with his wealth, a man could actually end up losing her because if she’s not after the money, that will be a real deal-breaker.

Life happens when you’re busy planning life

making plans

‘Life happens when you’re busy planning life.’

The first time I heard this statement, my mind went back to a date I never had with a guy I really liked about two years ago. Naturally, I’m one of those people who don’t just do things on impulse. If I’m hooking up with some girlfriends, I’ll have to plan for it. If it’s an appointment I have with my hair dresser, I’ll have to plan for it. If I’m going shopping, I’ll have to plan for it. Spontaneity isn’t a word I’m too conversant with.

I really can’t say it’s a good thing. Some might argue it’s good to always plan for things in advance-I thought so too, but not anymore. Through experience, I learnt that sometimes it’s actually good to do things on impulse. The problem with some things is that if you actually sit down to plan when you’ll do them, they’ll never happen.

Two years ago, I met this guy when I was at work. He worked for a popular radio station. After talking for a while we just clicked, and he asked me out. I didn’t even think twice about it; I definitely wanted to spend more time with him. You know, there are those people who are so easy to like; he was one of them. The problem however rose when we started setting the time for our date. Somehow our schedules collided. When I was free he wasn’t, and when he was, I wasn’t.

He suggested we should just leave the possibilities open so if he was free he’d call me up to ask if I could avail myself. That proved difficult because at times he’d call when I was tied up with something. I had to explain to him that I had my activities all planned out (It sounds boring I know, trust me). He on the other hand told me he was an in-the-moment kinda guy. Whatever he did, he did when he felt like. He made it clear that he wasn’t really into planning and all. At the time I was like, “What? Planning makes things easy.”

He dropped by my workplace, and we managed to set an actual date. We agreed to hook up later that evening. Everything was going on fine, until I sprained my ankle. I wanted to ignore it but the pain was too much. I just rang him to cancel; there was no way I was going on a first date with him limping.

It was around Christmas. Later that week my family and I travelled out of town for a couple of days. When we came back the Christmas festivities had relatively cooled off. I’d asked my boss to give me a few days extra and the understanding man he was, he had agreed, so I reported back to work later than everyone else. It was almost time to usher in the New Year. Soon, everything went back to normal, the holiday spirit died down, waiting for another twelve months so it could resurrect.

There was too much work to be done and even, though I’d thought December was a busy month, January proved worse, not because there was too much work to be done, but because generally, the month feels like a Monday; a mundane, lethargy-inflicting day, after an exciting weekend. The connection we’d fostered the first few days faded away. I got tired of all the rescheduling, and I imagined he felt the same way too.

The relationship we would possibly have had ended before it had begun. I could tell he was a fun guy to be with, but it just didn’t happen. Maybe if I hadn’t been too keen on planning, if I just lived for the moment, I would be telling an entirely different story. Maybe I made wrong deductions, but given that to date we’ve never hooked up, I concluded that sometimes it’s actually good to just do things on impulse.

From a Christian’s perspective I could decide to look at it from the, ‘God didn’t want us to go on that date perspective’, but normally I feel my ‘planning’ got in the way. So I do agree, that life actually happens when we’re busy planning it. We don’t know what tomorrow holds, so if one gets the opportunity to do something today, they should just grab the chance. Maybe I’m wrong… maybe I’m not…

 

WHAT’S IN A TEXT MESSAGE?

Scrolling through my phonebook, I see names; people I don’t talk to anymore. I scroll through my messages and I find texts from last year; others are from years back. Texts I exchanged with people I loved at the time, during our halcyon days. Days, when each morning I would wake up, anticipating a warm ‘good morning’ text, which would have me in high spirits all day long…sometimes we would text each other during the day; but at other times we would find our schedules too tight to find texting time; even so, we wouldn’t pass on the ‘goodnight’ texts. Life was in deed good.

Yesterday I was curled up on a three-sitter beige sofa, in front of the TV, with my phone in hand. I wasn’t watching anything on TV, and neither was I doing anything in particular on my phone…I was just fidgeting with it…my mind was far; I was in a daze. I had sub-consciously drifted back to last year; this same time last year…

Around this same time last year, there was this guy I was really into… before then, we had just been casual buddies, who texted each other once in a blue moon, just to ‘halla’. I enjoyed chatting with him, and even though a part of me was drawn to him, I realized he wasn’t as open; he would just tell me stuff that would leave me second guessing myself. He was only open if it was convenient for him. I reminded myself not to be sucked in by him; he came off as the hit and run kinda guy. The kind that would chase a girl intently, but flee the instant the girl dropped her guard down, leaving her a mass of scattered emotions.

I’ve been down that road more times than I would wish upon myself, and as with many other experiences, I was only too familiar with the adage, ‘once bitten, twice shy’; I wasn’t going to let myself fall for a guy that didn’t seem like a keeper.

He was too secretive; sometimes I would entertain the idea that he was the male version of me, because naturally I find it difficult to disclose things about myself to people. It’s ironic that somehow I still found it in me to write about myself… (Memoirs and all…).

If I had followed my heart, I would have fallen for him hard, but my sub-conscious warned me; guess that was the proverbial sixth sense- a woman’s intuition- warning me that I was headed for a precipice. So I erected ramparts around my heart. My words were only mouth-deep. Each time he texted, there was a hint of sexual innuendo in his messages, but nothing too obvious…I would heed to the red alarms in my head and downplay the texts; my replies would be relatively mundane; just the casual ‘howdy’ and weather updates. I had opted to play it safe.

In my head we were just friends. Friends don’t cross the boundaries to the erotic side, I would tell myself, just to keep myself grounded. Sometimes it would work, but at times I would succumb to my human weaknesses and find myself dancing along to his erotic tunes. It was dangerous, but fun…

I didn’t realize when the rampart came down and I started wondering if he was really the guy for me; maybe he was my soulmate…after a careful analysis, I realized those were just my hormones doing their rounds…my wits were screaming, “He’s a player! He’s a player!”

Maybe he realized I was being weary of him, because our once-in-a-blue-moon texts became daily good morning and goodnight texts. They were soulful. In a way, they made me privy to his warm, loving side that wasn’t all about ‘the physical’… I loved them… I would send him equally soulful texts…

The texts bonded us more than I had anticipated; our conversations started to feel meaningful; they felt deep.

If ever I was troubled in the middle of the night, I would text him, because sometimes he was working night shift…and lovingly, he would pacify me…it felt really good.

Each time his name popped up in my head, my heart would flutter; it would pace madly, pumping endorphins-happy hormones- all through my system, leaving me a happy mess. I was entranced by him. Deep in my heart I knew I wasn’t in love with him, but I also wasn’t unaware of a looming love affair if we incubated the feelings a little longer. The thought excited me, but my ever alert sub-conscious reminded me I was treading on thin ice…

Once, he asked me if I wanted to be exclusively his…and at that point I found myself at a cross-roads; he was cute, definitely shrewd, humorous…that much summed up the qualities one looks for in a partner, but somehow, I didn’t feel convinced he was going to stick around for long… at one point I just opened up to him, maybe it was foolish of me, but I like confronting my demons head on.

“How sure I’m I you won’t just up and leave? That you won’t bail when it gets serious?”

He didn’t even hesitate, “I won’t love. I’m here to stay”.

I almost believed him, but the perceptive voice in my head told me he was telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. The promise didn’t feel real. I remained skeptical. Maybe it was my sixth sense…

All through, my head managed to override whatever emotions my heart exposed me to. I had only my toes in the water. I wasn’t sure if it was Ok to jump in with both feet…sometimes I would impeach my own judgment; maybe I’m just being over-cautious…I would think. But the minute I thought that, an encyclopedia of ‘reasons why you shouldn’t trust him’ would surface in my head. Maybe I was only myopic, but he seemed afraid of commitment.

Sometimes I would just tell him some things to test the waters and his reaction would back up my hypothesis…he wasn’t really ready for the long haul. For the better part of our acquaintance since twenty eleven, I managed to remain casual; making a few flirty remarks, jokes here and there, without getting my heart involved… that prompted him to push further…

But the minute he realized things had started getting serious, he started bailing… I noticed that early enough, luckily. Once, I texted him, “I miss you”…it was early November; I’d never told him that before…I never wanted my emotions exposed; I didn’t want to feel vulnerable; to hurt, if whatever was budding between us went awry. I had been walking on the safe side all along, but somehow that night I just let my heart rule for a second…I hit send…

I bet he realized things were really getting serious, because after that he went silent for three weeks. Funny thing is I didn’t even hurt; I was piqued, but not in the heartbroken kind, just disappointed that after all my gut feeling had been right all along. He was afraid of commitment. I didn’t have to do the over-indulging on chocolate and staying in pj’s pity party. I had seen that train approaching from a distance…

When he texted again, it was like he never received the previous text…it was the have -a- good- day kinda stuff; nothing sentimental. I could tell he wanted it to sound sweet, but I knew that was a relationship that wasn’t worth investing in. It was over before it started.

what's in a text message

Last we talked on a ‘personal note’ was on my birthday, in mid-December, last year. Ever since, we have dialed down our relationship to the casual friendship we had before. Sometimes I feel there could be something amazing waiting to be explored, but I can’t help the intense warnings…in a relationship, passion isn’t just enough.

I snapped back to reality when my road down memory lane came to an end… the phone was still in my hand. I scrolled to the messages; some texts we had exchanged; I had saved seventy of them. We hardly talk nowadays, but I still hold on to them. Every time I decide to delete them my thumb feels numb; it refuses to co-ordinate with my brain when I will it to press ‘delete’.

I wonder, what’s in a text, that makes it so alluring? When I read them, they take me back to those happy days…when I proudly called him mine…