Tuesday 27 August 2013

27 August 2013.

Mother taught me never to be forward with a man.. Only loose girls are, and prostitutes too. I never paid attention for some reason. I found being coy about someone you really wanted stupid. So I was the go-getter kind. And funny enough, I never got what I wanted. Maybe it was my forwardness. Or maybe I loved the wrong guys. Something about the way their carefree nature and the way it fueled my eagerness. I was interested in their disinterest in me. Or maybe I was looking for something to fill the emptiness within. I was too afraid of being lonely. But that was what I was. I had only loneliness embrace me during cold nights. Men crawled in and out of my bed. Some were drunk the whole time to even remember what happened. I found a temporary solace in alcohol. I loved the way it silenced my thoughts for a little while.It was my anti-depressant drug. I loved the way it made my nerves relax and the confidence it gave me. It made me bold enough to call Alhaji up to set another date despite the fact I knew he kept calling his dead wife's name while we fucked. My life without it was suffering. Torment. I never figured the reason for the tears I shed under my blanket, in the ladies room or in dark corners. I cried when Anita got married to that guy from the United States, and when Mariam got engaged to that rich man working at Mobil, the worst was when my younger sister asked me to be her maid of honor. Being coy was stupid, but you'd always get what you want at the end.

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