It’s been two weeks since you left but I can’t still wipe off your writing on my white board. Although, I’ve turned your leggings to a rag for cleaning my generator, I wish I had burnt it coz each time I use it, I remember watching you wear it. I may have slept with another girl to get you out of my mind but I hate it whenever I see ‘My hate’ on my bed sheet. I saw you scribble it. And I thought it meant we shared something. Now, I can’t tell why you wrote it but it reminds me how much I hate you. Now, I should really burn that leggings. But I’ve learnt it makes the images linger longer. Shit!!! Is there really a way outta this? Look at me – I been dey form James Bond when you been dey fall. So, do your thing Empress.
The last time I went to your town, I was advised to go see you. But my pride couldn’t let me do that. Because although I am annoying, you are fucking irritating. How could a joke I told to get a laugh make you leave? Fuck it! Thinking about it now – it was actually a dumb one. Fuck it! You’ve always wanted to leave. I just don’t know why I had to stop you the first time. Worse, I don’t know why I had to try the second time. Right now, I can beat my chest and say – at least I tried. But fuck it! I miss you… I don’t know if it’s watching you sing Beyoncé off key or the way you blush when I kiss you. Or when I tell you how beautiful you are. I can’t tell if it’s because I find you as crazy as I am and although we disagree on so many things, I learn a lot just lying by your side. Yesterday, I looked up the sky and wanted to count the stars – I remembered how funny you found that but I couldn’t laugh. What made me laugh though, was how soon I’ve forgotten some of the planets’ name you just re-taught me and how long it may take me to forget the pitch of your moan when I take you from the back. Do you still remember the pillow-talk clips and pictures? You! You’re a bad girl. And I wish I was ready for you… Come on, I saw badder chicks in Calabar. This gotta be another movie…
It’s apparent we are not meant to be. We are caught up in a web where being together would make us lose those we care about, yet we said fuck to that and let the line in between blur. How come we are now the lines in between? And what the heck do I really want from you? Is it the imperfections my inability to address pushes me to kiss more joints. Or did I ruin it by always hiding to take another Tramadol or by watching you avoid looking at me while I rolled my weed. I know it reminded you of your dad but it helps me forget mine. And I know that when you read this – you’d hate me more. Well, what have I to lose, it’s over – isn’t it? I think beautiful things should be let gone. Coz the closer we stick to them, the harder it becomes to live without them. But I love good memories – they lead my feet towards the smell of good roasted plantain and palmy. You know how I love them. I know how you love Oliver De Coque. My dad loves him too. We’ve seen each other’s tears. I’ve bathed you when you couldn’t raise your hand. You’ve tucked me to bed while I was higher than the Empire State and I’ve cuddled you when your sickness couldn’t let you sleep. I have away your tears. You have kissed away my pains. You’ve begged me to come and lie with you, asked me not to touch you again and chased me around the room, insisting you’d lie wherever I did. Little dramas that should have been avoided but we were too full of our pride – we couldn’t let each other win. No! Not till we became ashamed of ourselves and each other, submit to each other and share some kisses. And you’d let me bite your tongue and you’d suck the shit outta my dick. I hate you!!!
Remember the look on your face when you told me if I grab ten million Naira and waste it, you would kill me. Remember the look on your face when I told you I want to make movies that would travel past Achebe’s novels. I wish I had looked at you long enough to know if you really believed that. Remember how you hide your face when you say the things you don’t want to say. I wish I had listened closer to them so I could understand you better. Remember how you look at me when you wonder if knowing me was a mistake. Well, that’s what makes the two of us. Remember how I smile at your childishness when I should be laughing at mine. Mad person dey shame? Remember how recklessly you drop your cloths when you come around and how shy you get to watch me I hang them. But you too know you’re lazy. Who is the judge now – my lazy ass? Remember how I like counting your black spots. I hope I forget how you love pressing pimples. And don’t forget your face when you were washing that pot. You are an idiot – you know. Sometimes I regret meeting you. Sometimes I regret writing that. Sometimes I wish we never cross path again.
Sometimes, I wish my phone rings and you’re the caller, so I could do small iyanga before picking up. The fact is, I won’t be the first to call and I would hang up if you ever call. Coz I hate you… And I know what it means to hate someone more than anything else and want her more than every other thing. They call it love – I call it being crazy. I am crazy. You have made me crazy… That’s why I pray you go deep inside hell and rot there.
And God forgive you if you don’t wish me worse. Coz I would leave that writing on the board till you come back and wipe it off – God knows I can’t do that myself. You too are very very annoying annoying… I think I’ve seen enough shit about relationship, I feel obligated to write a Romance Series. Coz with each mistake I make in relationship, I wish I had a movie that painted the true images to me – as real as it really goes. This shit ain’t really beans.
Now, you can actually go and die coz I know how you hate that part of me that sees a storyline, a character and a tv series concept in everything. I’m dead already. I am sure you know that by now. Smile…