It’s been seven months since my heart was broken into a thousand little pieces. Seven months since I added too much salt to the food because my mind was somewhere else replaying conversations, trying to figure out what I did wrong. My dad did not even think about it as he went on his jokes about how he should have cooked the food himself. He always cracks this joke about me having, perhaps, gone and cooked the food in Lake Magadi. My mum though, noted. She always does. She asked what was wrong and I snapped at her. I always do when in those I-don’t-want-to-talk situations. My heart was broken and I was to blame. Seven months down the line, my heart is heavy again and it’s about to break. It always happens sooner or later.
I never even get into any serious thing for my heart to come crushing down in hurt and despair. All it takes is a sign that someone I wanted, someone I pursued in my own wry ways is taking a step back. Someone I almost loved is giving the cold shoulder. It hurts a lot because it is always almost.
I have a lot of almosts in my life. Almosts who made my days. Almosts who started it all but couldn’t put up a fight. My boy told me the other day that he feels I am one of those girls who feels a guy then plays it safe until the guy puts up a ‘fight’ to demonstrate his seriousness. Well, it’s true. I am that girl.
I do not see why I would say yes to a man, no matter how much I am into him, if he doesn’t take an extra step. If he does not do something other men out there are not doing. I am not picky. I am not indecisive. If there’s someone who can make a decision fast, it is this girl right here. I make decisions the moment I lay my eyes on you. I make a decision immediately I read your bio. I make a decision about what category of friends you will fit into, the always-will-be-boys or the can-be-future-hubby list.
Right now, my heart is heavy because I seemed to have chased someone away in my pursuit of a man with the fight in him. He was one of those guys you know from the start is perfect but you have no chance in hell with him. I saw him before I saw his friend who was practically standing in front of him, blocking his view. I was mean that day, as I am a lot of times when I am trying to act disinterested. So I was pretty sure I had made that chance in hell double in its impossibility. Somehow, it didn’t.
Somehow I am here writing about something that never was. Something that could have been if I was a little easier. I get emotional fast; faster than the weather in Nairobi has been changing of late. I get emotional when someone I have been playing hard-to-get on decides to turn the tables. I feel sorry for myself, even when I am to blame. That is where I’m at right now. The annual Shiku pity party. Grab some soda (preferably Fanta Blackcurrant so we can share) and come sit here with me as we feel sorry for me.
I knew he was ignoring me when he did not reply immediately I sent that message. I knew he was mad. I also knew he had seen the message but just didn’t click it open so that it did not show that ‘Seen’ timestamp. That was actually pretty considerate of him. There is a reason I liked him anyway. The next day though, he had clicked it (because no one wants that ‘message 1’ constantly on your screen) and it read ‘Seen’ at some time which I can’t remember now, because I asked him what was going on. And he did not reply. Breaks down. I could break down right now, but I am in the office right now, typing this up so that I can let it out and I can go on with my work. Because otherwise, I am just doing nothing right now.
He will never even know he was the one making me feel this way, because I will never let him. Unless he mans up and tells me what I need to hear. There is nothing as pointless as chatting a girl up without ever letting her know for sure what it is that you want from her. I, for one, has trained myself never to jump to illogical conclusions just because my gut tells me. I never do that because I end up getting heart (yes, no typo). All the same, I am human. I jump into conclusions without even knowing it so that when I discover he changed his mind, I am left in shambles, only to recover many months down the line.
So my dears, if you are there thinking Shiku is picky, I am not. I am just chilling, waiting for him to answer my message so that I can tick him off my can-be-future-hubby list. And let my heart break into a thousand pieces because it is alright. It will get itself back in one piece, ready for the next challenge. Because you know what? That’s the beauty of life and living. Otherwise we would not even have this post up today if nothing had tugged at my heart.
(Please note, this was written ages ago. As promised last Monday, I will be releasing a lot of never-released-to-public posts from now on before the newer memoirs hit these streets. If I am allowed. Keep it locked!)