I couldnt for the life of me understand what she meant by that statement…

“I’m sorry, you’re a nice guy but i just need my space”

Needing her space was not the issue, oh no sir… I wasnt sure wether to tell her i knew about him. I’d seen her texts and MMS’s. All the various appointments in the name of “all-night study classes”. The “sexts” as they are more widely known, were at best, disturbing, and at worst, disgusting. I’d seen her throw him winks and glances even though she tried ever so sweetly to conceal those actions. I’d seen her lay on the bed ever so unintrested in what i was saying but jump to life once he walked through the door. I’d seen a lot… I had.

So why did it still hurt? Surely i was to know this day would come. I did. Or did I? I have the excuse of being ever so blinded by my emotions that i took note of what was happening but still refused to lay down d gauntlet against this impending break-up. I let happenstance have its way… and boy did it do just that… ever so cruelly.

Let me paint you a picture here…

I was introduced to her by my friend (who also had feelings for me)… *too much swag :-)* She was beautiful, and thats putting it mildly, thats putting it very mildly… I had been in two or three relationships but never anything serious. I guess it fuelled my rep as a player back in school. It seemed like something that would work, and my naivity at the time (even though i didnt know it) was part of why i actually beleived she was “the one”…

BTW- i dont beleive in such crap anymore… “the one”, please someone should point me to the address of whoever coined that term… If its a guy he deserves to be shot in his left testicle… if a girl…*insert any approprietely painful bodypart*

Fifteen months on from that “hey” and “nice to meet you” comfrontation, we had become schools number one item… actually number four, from one of schools prestigious magazine collumns. The Vice President of arguably the largest campus fellowship and the hottest girl in the faculty of law. Some jay z and beyonce ish*… but behind closed doors we had gone through the usual stages of apprehension, fondness, love, passion, obsession, irritation and finally boredom.

Yes thats where we were, we were bored. But we saw things differently. I thought we would still go full cycle and come back to the good old days… “its only natural” i consolled myself… mumu like me. she was so not thinking on my lines, for her, boredom meant moving on, And when she found a lustful thrill in the arms of her self-acclaimed best friend, her twisted mind started to crank up ,and like ancient clockwork, devise a disturbed and sinister but brilliant plan that was aimed at curing her “boredom”. She didnt want me as much as she used to. She also knew she didnt want him. But she wanted both. Cheating, that was the new game she needed to keep herself preoccupied. She wanted to keep me, not outta love, but out of the ever resident thrill in the heart of every man that comes from the sinful satisfaction of doing something you know you arnt supposed to. It was a guilty pleasure… guilty, but ever so pleasurable.

So when i finally comfronted her about it on that cold rainy night in benin city, she out of fear uttered those words, the ones this story began with.

Within seconds, heartbreak gave way to pain, which in turn gave way to distortion which gave way to rage which almost gave way to societies definition of insanity. (I say society because i beleive everyone of us is insane, just on different levels). Ever so composed as i was, i smiled, and after about 5 of the most intense seconds i have ever experienced, i walked away… smiling… (*now would be a good time to play M.I.’s song- na so craze dey start*)

two weeks later…

She hugged him, and they kissed passionately… ( shameless ho’ your mama no teach you say make you respect yourself for public) maybe it was because i was a pastor she never went that crazy with me, outdoors at least. He turned to go home, she walked towards her door. just as she was about to walk in she noticed something, her generator tank had been screwed open and the tanks cover was on the floor. She bent to pick it up and noticed that clothes she hung on the line were littered on the floor. “it must have been one hell of a wind gust for it to have knocked clothes that were pegged off the line”. She was halfway through picking them up and dusting them off when she noticed something strange. The wind gust had knocked the clothes off in a pattern that was too intentional to be coincidental (pun intended). It was as though the clothes lead her to the back of the hostel in a not too obvious but ultimately noticeable straight line. She decided not to think too much of it, wrong choice. As she got towards the silent eerieness that was her backyard something felt strange, she felt  eyes roll up and down her skin… slowly but surely. She laughed, as though to reassure herself she was still sane. It only seemed to make her more scared. As she picked up the last peice of clothing she heard a voice, ever so familiar…

“HELLO”

As she looked up, a handkercheif covered her mouth and nostrils and she dropped to the ground as soon as she inhaled its volatile contents… and ever so creepily, i smiled at her…

to be continued…

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