CITY GIRL: Why I had to part ways with John
Once upon a time, in my dating chronicles, I dated a Luo man. He was the quintessential tall, dark and handsome man.
He was the typical Luo man. A man of breathtaking pride, a bon-vivant par excellence and a devotee of all things fine and expensive.
He not only knew how to treat himself well, but also treated his woman with utmost respect, spoiled her and dotted over her like a precious stone.
We met at a friend’s party and hit it off almost immediately. He was single, I was single and we both wanted to have a little fun.
Because I know he will be reading this, I will tweak a few details so that when he texts me today at around 3pm after a round of golf, I will strongly declare: “That wasn’t you I was talking about,” and he would text back and say: “I know that was me Munchkin (he liked calling me that)… but that was a great piece. As always.”
For argument’s sake, we shall give this Luo man a common name like John, but make no mistake; there is nothing common about this Luo man.
John was a piece of God’s artwork. Many times I found myself staring, gawking even, at John, wondering how on earth the good Lord created such a masterpiece, a work of art so perfect and flawless and left it on earth wandering, roaming and turning heads.
John had an impeccably chiselled jaw and sculptured torso that I looked forward to seeing and touching whenever he took off his shirt for swimming. He had the smoothest hands on a man and he smelled like a bottle of peaches.
Every time I meet a Luo man today, I remember John’s lingering laughter, his glowing dark skin, his original Levis jeans and the navy blue pair of loafers he wore on weekends when we went for drinks with his friends.
We dated for exactly nine months, which is a very long time for me. I was totally in the relationship: Feet, heart, soul and mind.
In my world, our hearts beat as one, our minds were synchronised and our souls blended.
John, like me, was a very outgoing and interesting guy. He was full of surprises, this man. Pleasant surprises, I might add.
He may not have been the flowers and chocolate kind of guy, but he was the guy who’d show up at my apartment on a Saturday morning at 6am to tell me to dress up, pack an overnight bag because we have a trip ahead of us. A trip to where, I would ask. “You tell me,” he would add.
Our relationship seemed perfect only because John and I were cut from the same cloth.
We felt like twins. Like me, he was a spontaneous guy who loved picnics in the Limuru scenic greenery, game drives and a bit of splash at the coast.
Now John, being a typical proud Luo man, was not one to imbibe cheap liquor. Oh no, John believed that if he was to get mellow, he would do so in style. I don’t drink alcohol but John made me appreciate the austerity of good whiskey by smelling it and allowing the woody or smoky aroma carry you away.
Whenever I see a bottle of good whiskey, I get flashes of John in my mind. A flood of memories stream in and I have this overwhelming urge to pick up my phone and call him.
For instance, I remember the day he brought a bottle of expensive whisky to my apartment for ‘special occasions’.
Our relationship came to a grinding halt one day when John was suddenly convinced that I was flirting with his friend. My theory is that John was tired of the relationship and was looking for a way out but did not have the cojones to face me, but that’s just me. I have been known to be wrong once or twice.
That day, my dear readers, was when I knew John for whom he really was. His pride and ego took a serious beating when he suddenly had ‘evidence’ of my alleged philandering ways. Evidence he refused to share with me.
BROKEN AND BRUISED
Worse, he accused me of cheating with his friend! I have never seen a man so hurt, so broken and so bruised.
We uncoupled towards the end of last year, and seven months later, I am told, John still cannot get over the fact that his pride and ego was hurt.
I am reliably informed that his conversations with mutual friends and his social media posts (he joined Instagram after we uncoupled) have hints of bitterness of what I allegedly did to him; how I broke his heart and bruised his ego; how I left him for a man with more money, a better car… shallow accusations that make me cringe.
My experience with John taught me a cardinal lesson. You must never hurt a Luo man, if you value your peace. All men have egos, but a Luo man’s ego outstrips them all; it is unfathomable, especially when there is another man with more money and a better car involved.
I don’t know what hurt John’s pride the most: That I was allegedly flirting with his friend or that I left him for a man with more money.
I am convinced that John was hurt by the latter. He just couldn’t wrap his head (and his ego) around the fact that I may be dating a man with more money after we uncoupled.
Dear John, I am sorry for the pain I caused you. No, I was not flirting with your good friend – whom we shall call “Paul” and that day Paul picked me from work, it was just a friend doing a friend a favour.
Get off the ground, Dear John, dust yourself up and stop updating social media posts that clearly allude to our relationship.
It ended the way it did, it was ugly and painful and we both got bruised in the process.
I moved on, John, so should you.