From movies to real life, one question I am yet to understand people ever having to ask is “do you love me?”
Really? Why do you have to ask? Why? And whatever my response is will you believe me? If I tell you I love you, only after you asked, would that satisfy your curiosity?
“You’ll never find someone like me”.
First thing first, who told you they were searching for your type? What gives you the impression that they are still interested in someone like you?
I’m sorry. I’m just not used to girls returning my calls.
Interesting. So how many girls have you been calling that didn’t return your calls?
Emmm… Actually… I don’t know. See, let’s forget about that. Where were we?
Before you say age is just a number, consider dating someone older than you by the exact number of years you are older than your target.
If you still think age is just a number after that, then you should actually go with the older option.
This might be a bit of a stretch, but if you ever have to ask if I love you, then I most likely do not.
Or I’ve failed in my love for you.
Either way, I’m not happy you asked.
If my parents found out about me being in love with a teacher, how worried would they get?
Flipping the scenario, if a female student was crushing hard, or in love with a male teacher, how worried should her parents get?
Is it actually possible to be saying sorry too often? Isn’t that part of ethics, morals, and civility?
Especially when the person isn’t being self-effacing, or abdicating responsibility for something gone wrong.
Hollywood, Bollywood, and Nollywood, the time has come for you to drop this cliche. There are a thousand and one other ways to fall in love. Feel free to go with any other.
Now imagine your lover doesn’t share your sense of humor. Each time you laugh, they ask, “what’s funny?”
No matter how you explain, they just don’t get it. And whenever you share something you find funny with them, they’ll reply, “and so?” “I don’t get it.”
I still fondly remember the first time you said you love me. It was like time stood still.
I could hear a butterfly land on a flower’s petal a thousand miles away. The blue color of the sky looked freshly painted, to a point of exaggeration. If a pin dropped at the other end of the earth at that point, I would have heard it.
When I got back to the house, my two gossiping neighbors were nowhere to be seen. So also was whatever little respect I had for them.
This is not over. Instead, the battle line has just been drawn. I don’t know how I would get one over them, but I know I must get my pound of flesh.
There must be an alternate universe where you and I end up together. But in this universe, how can I end up with this your friend I have come to like?
Please, if you know breakfast in bed is something you look forward to, ask your husband if he can cook before you marry him.
Maybe you should even taste his food. It’s not only guys that need to know about your kitchen skills.
She went on to regale me with the latest news on the blogs. I think all of our gossip sessions can be summarised thus, “Nigerians are crazy.”
And apparently, the couple that gossips together stays together.
Rather than tell her yes or no, I asked her if she has a problem with Tomi staying with me. Hannah innocently said no.
I would have totally believed her, except that she has been trying to ruin our little alone time by endlessly bringing up Tomi.
I find this revelation so funny, yet enlightening, that I can’t even be upset with mummy for starting marriage talk with me this morning. This made a lot of sense.
Your value and identity shouldn’t be based on how many people asked for your contact or how many you got.
The thrill of the chase should end with your youthful days.
The fact that you have made yourself available doesn’t mean you have to take every insult and misbehavior they respond to your efforts with.
Lean on me no be press me die. You reserve the right to withdraw your offer at any time.
Maybe we should have enjoyed being friends and never bothered dating. Maybe we would still be friends rather than exes. Or maybe it was inevitable that we would get together.
There are a thousand and one other maybes, maybe in an alternate universe, we followed one of the several maybes, and ended up with a “happily ever after”.
I got back to the sitting room and met Tomi and Hannah giggling like sisters sharing a secret.
I had taken a long bath, thinking up ways to split the girls without getting either of them upset. My head had come up with nothing.
More important than my fear or dislike for canines, if all Men are dogs, and all dogs go to heaven, can you see where I’m going with this?
Of what use is a friend that is never available when needed? What are you supposed to do with a friend who shows up only a couple of days after they were needed?
This hen must really be crazy!!! Why didn’t she scavenge for worms and ants in the ground for her chicks?
Why wait till I’ve gathered the dirts?
Hannah too, someone that never wants any PDA, now she is asking for a kiss in front of company.
My village people are working on my case overtime. This is the worst setup of the century.
These witches have succeeded. The Coven have had their way. How in the world did Tomi and Hannah get home before me?
Why do they look content? Who cooked? Why are they eating together?
My enemies have finally gotten me.
A vital lesson that has stuck with me over the years is that the distance from admiration to jealousy is shorter than the distance from my thumb to my pinkie finger.
In my opinion, they are two sides of the same coin.
They say assumption is the lowest form of information. It should also be on the tombstone of lots of relationships.
As much as some people would say “I’m not the talking type”, having a chat is the only way we can express, address, and fix the many sticky points in relationships.
And by the way, what if I don’t like you? What would you then do?
You would get angry, would you then report me to someone? Or would you come and flog me? Or do you have the power to make me like you by force?
But if he ever says he is done being your man, if he ever says he wants a life without you, if he ever says it is time to part ways, I don’t want you to shed a tear. I don’t want you to be heartbroken. I don’t want you to doubt yourself for a second.
Please, know that someone sees you. Someone wants you. Someone would be glad to have you in their life.
That someone is me.
I, like many people I know, tend to find it difficult to let friends from the past go.
We stay attached to the memories and emotions shared, then tie this to the person, and eventually, we never let them go.