I
have heard the question ‘are you married?’ more than the birthday wishes
I receive annually. At first, I used to sheepishly answer ‘no oooo, not
yet’, then I continued to ‘very soon’. After a while, I started
claiming it by fire by force, claiming that the man is on his way to
meet me. All these haven’t changed the fact that some years down the
line, I am still not married.
I
have been in relationships that were good and some bad. The good ones
happened when I was much younger and not ready to settle down; but the
bad ones have taught me the lesson of a lifetime. My last one got me
dishing out my money on a regular basis. All he had to do was come up
with some story of being unable to carry out some projects due to some
financial incapability. I was earning twice as much as he earned, would
take a cab to and from his place on weekends. Sweet Lover Boy would just
stand by the cab and wave me bye when he was leaving. I would cook his
favourite dishes too; all he had to do was say what he wanted to eat.
All these were with my very hard earned Naira. I never missed a moment
to surprise him – buying gifts, calling him hourly- all because I wanted
a ring on my finger.
It
eventually collapsed after I met his mum. Because, seemingly for no
reason, she did not like me and found me not worthy of her son. It was
too late to count my losses. How can I forget? He even lost his job
mid-way into our 8 months relationship and yes, the virtuous woman in
Proverbs 31 would have had to contest with me if she had a face. I was
fending for both son and mother. Lover boy would always complain of B if
he got A and complain about D when I made sure he eventually got B.
Before
you start saying ‘maybe, you are not good looking’, I dare say that if
it was beauty that kept a man, then Prince Charles would never have left
Diana. I am 5’7 and pretty. However, the men I have met after my ‘tales
in hell’ relationship are either married or about to get married. That
is not a life I would want for myself. Before you also say maybe you
gave too much away by cooking his meals or being generous or
sympathetic, I say to you ‘how can you please the world’?
The
guy I dated before Sweet Lover Boy got me something new every time we
met, took me to places I had only dreamed of, but I never got him
anything. At a point, he felt I was stingy. I never called with my
airtime despite his purchases of same for me. When we eventually broke
up, he told me to my face that I did not love him. In retrospect, I
loved him, but I was with the mindset that giving a man anything would
cheapen the reason of their existence. It hurt me when we broke up and
then I resolved to give and give and give and give in my next
relationship.
Almost
all of my friends and colleagues are married, and from the look of
things, it seems like a good place to be in. The ‘my husband’, ‘my wife’
tales are good to listen to sometimes. To love and be loved is the
sweetest thing that could ever happen to anyone. I desire that. In the
meantime, I am where I am, fasting and praying for this man.
Like
couples long for a child and ache at the sight of toys or children
parties, I long for an engagement ring and to splatter my wedding
pictures on Facebook (whether high profile or not), I long to gist
others about ‘my husband did this or said this’ (whether true or not).
Until
he comes, I am here, focusing on other things, moving my life forward,
being a better person every day. Technology has a bank for sperm or eggs
for couples experiencing infertility, sadly, there isn’t any for men.
So,
friends and colleagues, church members and distant relatives, until you
show me the market where to buy one from, please stop asking me if I am
married.

No comments:
Post a Comment