Untitled…. Short Story

I know I have been away for tooooo long and so I decided to come back with a piece i had abandoned.
‘untitled’ for lack of better name and in relation to the circumstances in the story.
For ‘lack of better picture’ , lol, i used mine. Nice dress,  yes? Haha, enjoyy.


I stared at them in admiration whenever I saw them. He was really a new man everytime he was beside his love,at the time.

It went without saying she took his breath away. And so when she left for the comfort of another man’s arms,we all knew he was broken. literally.

The fragments of his heart sliced me everytime I attempted drawing near him. It was a hopeful futile move.Always.
I still don’t know where I get all that hope and optimism from. It makes no sense.

Sometimes I feel for him other times I say ‘serves him right’ ‘who told him he could deal with her,his long throat is too much sef’.

 He was such a fantastic sight to behold, tall, well taller than me, of moderate complexion and carefully sculpted lips. Bad enough I’m a sucker for details, his lips are evidence of God’s skill fullness. In fact everything about his layout made me blush in embarrassment of my undeniable attraction. 

I had merely admired him from a distance. I never did more than that. Who dash me? 
Until the day our paths conveniently crossed and I dared wave in greeting, I didn’t dare think much of it till there was a follow up from his end. I could hardly believe it. 

Trust the extremist in me, I flogged it. Fanned the embers. I couldn’t let it die.  Not the way all the things that excite me always die,no. 

I saw his mind was never really with me or I did not possess the charms to own it like his beautiful deserter did. I noticed that at times during the visits he paid me, he put his phone on silent when someone called. ‘What’s my business?’ I thought ‘At least he’s here and he’s not telling me any lies’.

I acknowledged there was a someone, and probably many more,I didn’t expect too much or anything at all. But I can’t lie that I hoped. 
I was torn.
I showed feelings sometimes and he would reciprocate sparingly on rare occasions.
I still think my uncertainty tickled his fancy. As some form of mean evil retaliatory entertainment to him. 

I hoped something, anything about me would give away that it could be much more than he had decided to let it be. It would mean something, and I was not too young to appreciate his heart if he gave it. I hoped till it ached. The ache became audible in my voice. Visible in my mood. I started to stomach a lot of his slip ups in the process of hoping. 

I saw a determined strong foot down struggle on his part.
Perhaps , to him, I was too young for him to trust my dedication?
He kept switching. Concern today and complacency the next.
 I got sick of it. 
I threw tantrums and made ‘never again’ resolutions and then broke them. I tried to understand it from his point of view, I stood other men up and made excuses for him – I lost it but I held on. 

One day he called to say he would come visit me. 
I,as always, cleared everything off my to do list just to be available.I took a bath, dressed up in my most ‘casual but yet beautiful’ dress and waited for him. He showed up late and spent a few minutes before another of those calls came in. He silenced his phone. 
Then another…
“Oh really? I’m not busy. I’d be there now” he said and turned to me.
 “My mum just called, my fiancee decided to pay a surprise visit to the family house. See you later”. 


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