Picture this. Guy frozen mid stride. Girl frozen at the pool edge, knife raised midway. Now, let’s take it back to the beginning. The story behind this story.
I had barely settled into my newly appointed position as the Creative Director in my company when Kunle broke the news of his transfer to his company’s New York branch. He chose to propose at the same time. (Men have suuuuuch terrible timing.) I don’t know exactly what got me more upset. The fact that he wanted me to quit my job, have a quick wedding and relocate with him which I found totally selfish …..Or the fact that after I refused, he insinuated I was having an affair with my boss which was just preposterous considering the fact that i actually work for my dad.
Now, so many people don’t know that because I hate to see people think I got where I am due to daddy favors. I mean, the old man didn’t even take it easy on me and it took me 5years of working my butt out to clinch that seat. Yes, I spent many a night in the office with my “boss” and I have never invited Kunle to office functions. I really don’t blame him as i told him my boss was my dad’s old friend but he still had no right to think such. I needed Kunle to see the super/independent woman in me and now it blew off in my face.
NB: I know you men are a bunch of Thomases but women are smart, innovative, hardworking and we can hold down the fort. We don’t all sleep our way to the top and that’s the truth.
I didn’t accept his proposal even when my dream ring was staring at me in the face. I am never the type to act before thinking. I always use my head. Kunle says I should have come a man. I broke up with him that night. Irrational? I know but no future husband of mine should entertain the thought of me trading my body for favors. That’s just disrespectful. This one time, I didn’t use my head because I was so upset. Waited all night hoping he would call. Pfft. Wishful thinking. Days piled on. No calls. No messages. No mails. Neither was I ready to lay down my ego.
I started consoling myself with stories of single women who were making it big. Oprah became my new best friend. I spoke to her day and night. Thanks to my monthly magazine subscription, I had a pretty nice poster of her pasted to my dressing mirror. Wait, was that even a coincidence? Brrr. All these was 5months prior to this incident. Oprah and I have since parted ways. I couldn’t bear it anymore and my therapist suggested I confront my problems. Which brings me to why I crashed this party in the first place. It all sounded sweet and went smooth in my head but nothing prepared me for what I just witnessed.
So, back to the present flashback. As he approached, I cut my wrist and fell backwards into the pool. I heard him scream before I blacked out. You are probably picturing a girl slowly sinking in a pool that was gradually turning red. Let’s throw in some Rose petals in there, what do you think? Now, let’s not be dramatic. Here is the non-hollywood version. I did want to slit my wrist not to kill myself but bleed enough to get Kunle’s attention (please don’t try this at home plus I do not encourage emotional blackmail). Movies really make these things so easy and cute. I had barely made a small cut before the pain shot through my body like lightning bolt. The impact of the shock made me lose my balance and fall into the pool. Thanks to my drunken state and my gazillion layered dress, I did sink. Really fast.
But not for long. Turns out the intruder, who was the bartender, who by the way saw me sneak the knife off the bar, is a really good swimmer. And strong. And really hot when wet. How did I know? Some idiot caught part of the action on cam and it didn’t take long to circulate. All I need to make Kunle squirm now is to play the video of a hot-looking-wet-bartender giving his future wifey CPR. Talk about payback.
I don’t rememebr much after I blacked out. Woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing. Took me a while to recognize my own bedroom walls. Started to pitch things together and I realized I was in my PJ. It dawned on me I wasn’t alone . Got up with a bolt, found my balance and headed to the kitchen, quietly. Before me was a sight I never wanted to stop seeing. Kunle wearing my oversized shirt which by the way was snug on his body. He definitely had been working out. I watched him make scrambled eggs while humming and dancing to whatever was jamming from his headset, oblivious of my presence. It was super exciting and extremely annoying. Annoying because he had no right to come into my house and act like he didn’t just go AWOL for 5months and exciting because every girl wants to wake up to this. Yes you do, Nwanne.
It was a very awkward morning but we managed to have a decent conversation. Turned out Kunle already knew I was going to be at the wedding. Vic snitched. The Instagram-model-looking chick turned out to be an act. She overdid it with the kiss though. (You know, I better not catch her fat ass anywhere around. I’ll probably end up telling her, her sweat smells like vanilla anyways :)). He stayed back a couple more days and we caught up on lost time.
That was 2months ago. Kunle woke me up this morning to ask me to marry him. From half way across the world. And to tell me he was coming home for good. My man was coming home! Yazz!!! This time, i said a big yes. I had no idea he had been processing his transfer papers. He never told me why he changed his mind though but I bet it’s because he couldn’t eat, had trouble sleeping, wasn’t focused at work, became grumpy, had regular mood swings, lost some weight, you know. I mean, it had to be that way for him too right? Lol. Men. They would never admit.
I am sitting in the airport café, waiting for my man to touch down and I can’t help but run this story through my head with smiles on my face. Crazy things we do for love. *phone beeps* He’s here. Gotta go.
Oh, one more thing. I said something about dying right? Just being a drama queen. 💁 Can’t help it. So long.
Thanks for reading this boring story of mine. And for those who might be confused, it’s a flash back with a flash back. You might want to read again. And Nwanne means sister in igbo.
Photo Credit: Google Images