It is a well known fact, even to me, that I make a terrible lover. Love, to a man of my calibre, has always been a challenge for reasons unknown even to me. It is , therefore, not disturbing to me that I can’t amount to anything that requires two people. Relationships have been a tough call that in all my active years, before last year, I never made a good lover. This in one way or another had a huge impact on my quiet life. Quiet, yet not so quiet.
In my small life, I have come across all kinds of people who thought I am a weirdo. If I also met me, in another world, I’d also think of myself that way. Some have accused me of being a misogynist, a man who loathes and disrespects women. It is the nature of human beings to call others names. They have to find something negative to say about you. If you consider chastity, they say you’re a weak man who can’t approach or charm a woman, if you decide to dedicate your life to love; they say you’re bewitched, if you decide to work hard, they call you a loner- human beings are known for their propensity to find faults in others.
So there was a period when I was the person they called a loner, a hater of women and a highly egotistical person. These are not words you’d love to be called but there is little you can do to stop people from labelling you. I accepted them, said them out loud for people to hear. You see, when someone talks negatively about you and you decide to agree with them, they’ll no longer have anything more to say about you.
But after finding the right person to love, I have finally discovered that loneliness is a tragedy. The more you stay single, the more everyone starts appearing beautiful , and in all essence, you can see the wrong things, which at some point when you stop seeing them, you consult a doctor to see if your eyes and brain are impaired in any way.
This is to say that until you find someone to neutralize your insanity, you’ll keep viewing life from a rear view mirror, wondering why not you. It is exciting to fall in the right partner’s territory. Ensure that you underline RIGHT, as the possibilities of falling in the wrong hands can also lead you to construct your own theories. The world is full of theories, most of which are formed when one takes the wrong bends in life. One wrong bend is able to change acres of someone’s paradigms.
Before I started falling into the hands of the right people, I had fallen in the wrong hands severally. There is nothing bad about ending up in the wrong relationship. There is no guarantee that your relationship is going to be all rosy. Every relationship starts out all lovely, until people start to know each other well. Suddenly, you discover they snore, they have asthma attacks, they suffer from gout, their feet stink, they evade responsibilities, they have dark pasts that never leave, including all nasty realizations. If the negatives break your tolerance threshold, the wholeness suddenly starts to crumble, until one day the pieces are too many to put back together.
Bad relationships teach you things good relationships will not teach you. And in everything, you need lessons; those that can help you become a better person. Having been in several failed relationships, I have discovered that it is all about getting better, improving as a person in an overall manner. The lessons help you grow. Growth in the right direction is a prerequisite, success in everything depends on it.
People enter into relationships thinking that things will be smooth all the way. They fail to know that challenges are ingredients that prepare a delicious relationship meal. If by any chance you cannot absorb challenges, there is no way you’re going to survive in any relationship.
So love is a pretty tough affair, one for the strong. However, I have learnt that friendship is the bedrock of love. Everything has to begin with some friendship. If there is a way, therefore, for relationships to survive, it is through investing in formidable friendships.
Every one of us has a small child inside them, and it takes a person you’re comfortable with for it to come out. We are all kids shrouded in bodies of grownups. We can act bossy, badass-like, intelligent and all that, but once we find that person who makes our fears drown, we all become children. The best example to validate my opinion is when you look at young, fresh lovers. Or people who have just fallen in love. When you observe them, you find them acting like small kids, and you wonder what in satan’s way are they doing.
This friendship I am talking about should not be confused with other kinds of relationships. I mean we all have friends, but how many of them do we tell our secrets or share personal moments with? Out of 100, you’ll find one or two. The strongest then is the one who becomes your best friend, the one who can do anything for you, well, except dying for you- because there is no one willing to die for another person. At least, for me I know I can’t.
There is no way I am going to die for another person; no matter how much I love them. See, Jesus died for us, all of us, and that was enough. So I can’t die for them to live, for what will they gain in my death? They’ll be left lonely, desperate, and spend the rest of their days thinking of me. That, for anyone, is torture.
Love, is a beautiful thing. And love with the right person, it is a lovely thing. Falling in love is becoming vulnerable to others, letting them into the person that is you, asking them to share it with you and holding each other’s hand, for life can be such a threatening ordeal that needs support from all corners.
We all need love, it helps dilute tough times in a way that people can share ideas, support each other and of course, have a good time. Good times can be defined differently. To some it is romance, to others it’s sex, to others it is cuddling, to others it is hanging out. For the few others, it is enjoying the quiet of life, nature and each other’s hearbeat.
Spending time with each other alone is therapy. It is a complex subject for me, but there is a feeling of bonding that comes along. Once people bond, they exist in their own bubble. Bubbles are what define people. Each of us is thriving in a bubble. One they’re afraid to come out of because they are afraid, or they feel comfortable in it, or that it makes them feel human. Feeling human is about living for a certain purpose, one for which without it, man loses the will to live.
The bubbles of friendship and love are the strongest. When you’re loved, it makes a world of difference. It makes you be yourself, balances your state of mind and keeps you together. When friendship breaks, so many things burn. People lose their minds, others die, others yearn to move into another world where thinking, feeling and seeing are vacant. You want to sleep, dream, dream of good things, relish those moments for a lifetime. You want to shun the world, you feel abandoned by everyone. One person can mean a world to someone. When that world breaks, there is nothing worth living for.
I don’t know why I am writing this post. I just wrote it, and that is why I lost myself in it. Whether it makes sense, or it makes me look foolish, I don’t know. The thing is that there is something that can be learnt. I have no idea what, but you can find one.
At this point, I no longer know where I am going, or what I am doing. So I will stop because my mind is out of juices, there are people running around me, there is a cool breeze fleeting through the window, and there is a panoramic view of the Ngong Hills, I can actually see the windmills run around doing nothing. It must be tiring to be them, waiting for wind to move around. That life sucks, right? That is being slave, like a car depending on fuel to move.
The music throbbing in the room is great, but it takes me deeper into different thoughts, all of which lead me away from this trajectory. There is also noise from a grinder downstairs, it has been singing loudly from the morning. I have just taken one fat mandazi, one sausage, and a very chillied samosa which has upset my stomach. So there is a whole range of things that are bothering me.
I am rushing to finish the story because I am using free Wi-Fi. Once I get out of here, I’ll not be able to post this story the way I want. I will have to go to the cyber because that is where the next affordable internet is. My monthly subscription died yesterday so I have to raise money to renew it, so I don’t have internet in my house. It is sick, right? It is sad, very sad, ama?
So the idiot I am has to sit here and write… and then post. Writing usually takes my three hours, and an extra hour of fine tuning. I don’t have that. I don’t want to push it the following day either; I love deadlines, and consistency. I am a predictable guy, it keeps me feel responsible. Though sometimes I say to myself, fuck that guy, today I am going to forget all the shit and just chill out!
Then someone, a couple of people, more than 20, will slide into my inbox and ask if someone amputated my fingers. These are those people I said that can die for someone. They spend their days looking forward, dreaming and drooling, waiting for Wednesday. They are hooked to my bag of weed. Is it bad for them to end up down that ditch? Does it benefit me? How does that benefit our country?
So when they stick their tongue out and lash it at me, I feel guilt crawling on my back. It makes make lose my mind. Losing my mind is not something I fancy, I can kill myself. If I kill myself again it won’t benefit anyone.
Okay, now I am losing it. Let’s see each other next Wednesday. Whatever has come over me can’t be tamed right now. Bye bye.
(The supreme hunter in captivity)
Where shall we go, we who wander in this wasteland in search of better selves?