BODMAS
3:47am
Bracket of division multiplication and subtraction… [or something like it].
Okay really, I am absolutely beginning to wonder about myself and weddings! It is beginning to cause raised eyebrows within my head!! It’s like every time I go for one, I come back with a 2nd other. Buh this time, I got two others!!
(drumrolls)Enter: Paul and Faruk.
Paul is the cousin of the bride (now newlywed now wife) and Faruk was my ride home.
I was late for the wedding (blame it on bad roads, traffic and impatient Nigerian’s) and lost my initial ride to the venue. After much shuttling and vehicle transfer, I finally made it to the venue.
There I was standing by myself feeling sorry for me and so left out and there he was looking sinfully male! There was eye contact and a nod of acknowledgment there and then, I decided that I’d talk to him even if it was the last thing I do.
Just as I was about to open my lips to let out the word “hi” a pretty petite and gorgeous looking ‘plastic’ bundled into his arms and placed a noisy kiss on his cheeks.
I quickly swallowed the unspoken words and thanked G*d I hadn’t done anything stupid only to discover that he had a (not just) girlfriend (but a possessive one at that).
He turned my way, I stood very still and begun pretending that I was invincible.
I was convinced that I had succeeded until I felt a light touch on my shoulder [sigh].
The ‘touch-er’ asked what I was doing standing all by myself in the middle of the hall with my eyes closed.
Realizing telling him the truth would make a very bad 1st impression; I shrugged and mumbled something about a bug and flowers.
He said his name was Faruk and asked if he could stand with me. We chatted for a while and I got to find out that the gorgeous ‘plastic’ was the sister to Paul; the G*d crafted Adonis I had missed. I cursed and bit my finger, what was wrong with that girl? Why on earth would she be showing so much affection for her brother like that, in public for that matter, buh!!
Ah well, I got Faruk; a final year student in the faculty of arts sensitive and playful.
He was my consolation prize.
Being that he lived not too far from my place in school and he had to drop off a few things at his place before returning to town that same day, I stuck around so, he’d give me a ride home.
That same day(lying belly up on my bed and wondering about the possibility of trees taking over the world) hours after the wedding, I got a call from an unknown number with a male voice.
After much begging and promises to do unspeakable things if he’d tell me who he was, he confessed that he loved my smile and was heartbroken because he didn’t get the chance to talk to me.
“Paul!”
After silencing the alleluia chorus that had let out in my head(buh, I was talking to Paul! Paul didn't think I was invincible, Paul 'dug' me), I asked if his sister would approve of him talking to another woman describing her behavior as a little bit curious.
He laughed it off saying that she hadn’t seen him in a while hence the affection and suggested that if I spent some time with her, I’d discover she was a fun person.
After I said no thanks, he asked me to be his girlfriend [just like that!] without thinking, I said yes! We talked for a while longer and then there was a knock at my door.
I promised to see him as soon as I could then raced to open the door...
Standing on my corridor looking very out of place, handsome and at the same time cute was Faruk, a plastic bag from a popular supermarket and a bunch of flowers [all artificial though... the flowers I mean].
He couldn’t stop thinking about me and drove all the way from town to see me!
That is like the sweetest thing a guy can do at this day and time.
Geez, I hate weddings!!
- Tabby
Monday, July 26, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Entry 30
QUE EST PANDORA?
Public service announcement: I formerly known and addressed as Tabitha blah-blah-blah now wish to be known and addressed as Aisha.
Reason?
Some no good men (two of them) sitting on overturned beer crates a few meters from the road bored as hell and seeking activity happened to spot me sitting pretty on an okada.
They decided they had hit jackpot and went ahead to ‘collect’
There was a slight traffic jam and it was drizzling, I had covered my head and shoulders with a black shawl to prevent it from getting wet and was minding my business until the two (possible drunken) men mistook me for an active northerner and took to calling me… Aisha.
At first, I did not realize I was the one they were referring to but at their persistence, curiosity got the better of me so, I stole a backward glance to see who the “Aisha” was.
As soon as I turned my busy-body-head, they tasted victory, their plan had worked.
They jumped up in jubilation and blew whistles at me. Clapping ecstatically, they begged me to forget my destination and come join them.
With a “no thanks” and much relief (the road had cleared enough for my ride to move) I wove them an apology and was on my way.
If only everything ended happily like that but its life, what can I say?
Just a few days before, on Sunday to be precise, I was served my most embarrassing moment in my life on a platter of ‘righteousness’.
Buh! Who would have believed that I Tabby [slash Aisha now] could be bounced form church? Me, moi, meh, buh, myself!!
The charge?
Found guilty of wearing trousers to church.
Even though there was a full dress on top of the said ‘trousers’ a crime was a crime, my dressing was inappropriate, the verdict? Banishment!! My accuser the usher led me out of church with a proud smirk on her face.
It is not that any part of my G*d designed luscious body was showing oh, no flashing thighs, no excess cleavage, and no low waist line, nothing of that sort.
They said I wore a trouser; the oxford dictionary calls them leggings and market women know them as tights.
Tights!!
Because I wore tights beneath a dress to prevent myself from showing too much ‘skin’ I was punished for my consideration and escorted from the premises.
Since when do peoples openness to the word of G*d vary based on the appearance of other individuals who have come to church to worship?
Are they telling me that, should I feel the urge and go ahead to call on my father while attending a lingerie exhibition, he wouldn’t answer my prayers?
I went to church to seek the face of G*d, I was feeling down, I needed G*d’s love and I felt like I was getting it.
Only for one overzealous woman slash church warden to take it upon herself to extract me from my blissful haven just because she decided I ‘would be’ a distraction.
Isn’t that devilish of her?
Come to think of it, possessed people eh, they are still children of G*d right? So it goes to say that said ‘people’ can stand for a while in his presence unaware of their status and still manifest right?
So, there is a huge possibility, a probability of 1 in 10 chances of her being a minion of Nneka.
I know what I’d do; I’d say a prayer for her.
Her plan was to escort me to the back of church and tell me to wait then later, return with more wardens to embarrass the light out of my day.
Lucky me, I hacked her format.
After begging G*d to forgive me for not being bold enough to confront her head on, I fled.
Buh, I wish I had stood my ground.
Ah well, there is always next Sunday (with an added bonus; Paul promised to go with me for service! Standing beside him in church, should that usher manifest, let me see how she’d have the mind to pull the same stunt twice!! )
- Tabby
Public service announcement: I formerly known and addressed as Tabitha blah-blah-blah now wish to be known and addressed as Aisha.
Reason?
Some no good men (two of them) sitting on overturned beer crates a few meters from the road bored as hell and seeking activity happened to spot me sitting pretty on an okada.
They decided they had hit jackpot and went ahead to ‘collect’
There was a slight traffic jam and it was drizzling, I had covered my head and shoulders with a black shawl to prevent it from getting wet and was minding my business until the two (possible drunken) men mistook me for an active northerner and took to calling me… Aisha.
At first, I did not realize I was the one they were referring to but at their persistence, curiosity got the better of me so, I stole a backward glance to see who the “Aisha” was.
As soon as I turned my busy-body-head, they tasted victory, their plan had worked.
They jumped up in jubilation and blew whistles at me. Clapping ecstatically, they begged me to forget my destination and come join them.
With a “no thanks” and much relief (the road had cleared enough for my ride to move) I wove them an apology and was on my way.
If only everything ended happily like that but its life, what can I say?
Just a few days before, on Sunday to be precise, I was served my most embarrassing moment in my life on a platter of ‘righteousness’.
Buh! Who would have believed that I Tabby [slash Aisha now] could be bounced form church? Me, moi, meh, buh, myself!!
The charge?
Found guilty of wearing trousers to church.
Even though there was a full dress on top of the said ‘trousers’ a crime was a crime, my dressing was inappropriate, the verdict? Banishment!! My accuser the usher led me out of church with a proud smirk on her face.
It is not that any part of my G*d designed luscious body was showing oh, no flashing thighs, no excess cleavage, and no low waist line, nothing of that sort.
They said I wore a trouser; the oxford dictionary calls them leggings and market women know them as tights.
Tights!!
Because I wore tights beneath a dress to prevent myself from showing too much ‘skin’ I was punished for my consideration and escorted from the premises.
Since when do peoples openness to the word of G*d vary based on the appearance of other individuals who have come to church to worship?
Are they telling me that, should I feel the urge and go ahead to call on my father while attending a lingerie exhibition, he wouldn’t answer my prayers?
I went to church to seek the face of G*d, I was feeling down, I needed G*d’s love and I felt like I was getting it.
Only for one overzealous woman slash church warden to take it upon herself to extract me from my blissful haven just because she decided I ‘would be’ a distraction.
Isn’t that devilish of her?
Come to think of it, possessed people eh, they are still children of G*d right? So it goes to say that said ‘people’ can stand for a while in his presence unaware of their status and still manifest right?
So, there is a huge possibility, a probability of 1 in 10 chances of her being a minion of Nneka.
I know what I’d do; I’d say a prayer for her.
Her plan was to escort me to the back of church and tell me to wait then later, return with more wardens to embarrass the light out of my day.
Lucky me, I hacked her format.
After begging G*d to forgive me for not being bold enough to confront her head on, I fled.
Buh, I wish I had stood my ground.
Ah well, there is always next Sunday (with an added bonus; Paul promised to go with me for service! Standing beside him in church, should that usher manifest, let me see how she’d have the mind to pull the same stunt twice!! )
- Tabby
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Entry 28
NO TIME
So now, I am late for class. My assignment (which I actually DID all by myself with no form of ‘dubbing’ whatsoever) is still in my bag never to be submitted. Why because? Stupid, foolish, selfish-minions-of-Nneka aka NEPA slash power holding company of Nigeria: PHCN decided to withhold power at the last minute leaving me with no decent clothes to wear! I had to go through my junkie clothes to find a manageable tee that I didn’t have to iron and skin tight ‘dirty’ jeans to wear
[if madam Alabi should bounce me out of her class for ‘inappropriate’ dressing eh, I’d find all the NEPA officials residing in this state and piss on their cats!
Only yesterday, I met Sado well, not met per say I introduced myself to him. He has the most beautiful voice I have heard in real life! Buh, my classmates have so much talent (especially Sado).
There is a girl that sells jewelries, she is good! Buh, she can convince a celebrate monk to pierce his belly button, date that super thin Hollywood celebrity and wear studs on his tongue, then there is another ‘bolder’ girl.
Her wares are 'more exotic' panties, thongs, strings and lingerie’s.
When I was through blushing, I finally built up the nerve to look at them.
They were gorgeous though.
It was while I was trying to keep a straight face whilst wondering if a particular leopard patterned thong would be a snug fit that I heard him.
The class boys were at it again, they were singing a song by some dead artist (which usually annoys me and never fails to propel me shout out my opinion, loud enough for them to 'shut up!!') but when he joined in the chorus, I was stunned to silence.
I had to listen and now, I am an official lover of dead musicians!
Mothers new boyfriend teacher Dash is a lecturer in my faculty (only G*d knows how and where she met him, teachers are very much not her type).
I wonder if I learn his name and play nice, he’d ensure that school for me becomes a breeze.
I mean, ‘friends with benefit’ doesn’t always have to be only between 'said' friends buh I think?
Children of said friends should every now and then receive dividends, they should benefit too!
Shucks! I just got to class, madam Alabi is already there. Does she fly? [There goes my assignment, next time, I am so dubbing!!]
Ah well, it could have been worse! I’d scout around and look for the bright side, maybe I’d bump into Sado.
- Tabby
So now, I am late for class. My assignment (which I actually DID all by myself with no form of ‘dubbing’ whatsoever) is still in my bag never to be submitted. Why because? Stupid, foolish, selfish-minions-of-Nneka aka NEPA slash power holding company of Nigeria: PHCN decided to withhold power at the last minute leaving me with no decent clothes to wear! I had to go through my junkie clothes to find a manageable tee that I didn’t have to iron and skin tight ‘dirty’ jeans to wear
[if madam Alabi should bounce me out of her class for ‘inappropriate’ dressing eh, I’d find all the NEPA officials residing in this state and piss on their cats!
Only yesterday, I met Sado well, not met per say I introduced myself to him. He has the most beautiful voice I have heard in real life! Buh, my classmates have so much talent (especially Sado).
There is a girl that sells jewelries, she is good! Buh, she can convince a celebrate monk to pierce his belly button, date that super thin Hollywood celebrity and wear studs on his tongue, then there is another ‘bolder’ girl.
Her wares are 'more exotic' panties, thongs, strings and lingerie’s.
When I was through blushing, I finally built up the nerve to look at them.
They were gorgeous though.
It was while I was trying to keep a straight face whilst wondering if a particular leopard patterned thong would be a snug fit that I heard him.
The class boys were at it again, they were singing a song by some dead artist (which usually annoys me and never fails to propel me shout out my opinion, loud enough for them to 'shut up!!') but when he joined in the chorus, I was stunned to silence.
I had to listen and now, I am an official lover of dead musicians!
Mothers new boyfriend teacher Dash is a lecturer in my faculty (only G*d knows how and where she met him, teachers are very much not her type).
I wonder if I learn his name and play nice, he’d ensure that school for me becomes a breeze.
I mean, ‘friends with benefit’ doesn’t always have to be only between 'said' friends buh I think?
Children of said friends should every now and then receive dividends, they should benefit too!
Shucks! I just got to class, madam Alabi is already there. Does she fly? [There goes my assignment, next time, I am so dubbing!!]
Ah well, it could have been worse! I’d scout around and look for the bright side, maybe I’d bump into Sado.
- Tabby
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Entry 25
WHEN FISH PRAY
I didn’t realize I was screaming in my sleep until I opened my eyes and heard the dying sound of my voice.
Buh, G*d forbid bad thing o!
I looked warily about my room, leaned forward to raise the edge of my blanket then looked under my bed. Making sure that what I assumed to be a dream was definitely ‘really’ a dream…
I was coming home from a ‘night out’ then suddenly, up ahead; standing motionless at the very entrance to my street was a form that bore a striking resemblance to Nneka.
Before my eyes, the likeness turned into a lizard and began to stare menacingly at me.
As a normal [rational] Nigerian would do, first of all, I took a step back, looked both ways then pulled off my sandals and began to run (I didn’t want to wait and hear stories of how “dem shoot bird the mama come fly”)
The lizard chased me!!
I was being chased by a lizard.
It was when we both stopped momentarily to let an elderly looking dog riding an ‘okada go across the road that I noticed the lizard was now standing on its tail hands outstretched poised to push me into a hole [that suddenly materialized from thin air].
It succeeded!
In a blink of the eye, I was falling head first, hands flaring about into a hole that went on forever. I let out a confused cry and began to scream. I screamed as I continued to fall further into nothingness and I kept on screaming until I bolted into a sitting position (or, did I land on my bed?)
I opened my eyes.
Funny enough, I was not sweating. Does the absence of sweat mean that it wasn’t a nightmare? What are the parameters for classifying dreams into their various categories?
School is boring and slow, sometimes, I am tempted to set the girls hostel ablaze then seat back and admire my handiwork.
The sight of girls scurrying about in circles and the appeal of watching would-be-macho-super-hero boys storming in to the rescue would be enough excitement to last for say one week?
Buh, it would really be something but, I think I remember reading or hearing somewhere or so that arson is a punishable offense [sigh] there goes my genius plan!
Rumor has it that results would be posted soon. I wonder how mine would turn out.
Last session was a bit too ‘dramatic’ for my liking but, I don’t expect to fail (who ever does?)
5:47am, it is still ‘a bit’ too early to ‘wake up’ so, after I say a prayer for protection against ‘politically inclined’ animals [who else would want to kill for no just cause?], double check to make sure my windows, doors and curtains are firmly shut and my house hold is in order, I would have a brief nap before I eventually arise to conquer the day.
Night –night
- Tabby
I didn’t realize I was screaming in my sleep until I opened my eyes and heard the dying sound of my voice.
Buh, G*d forbid bad thing o!
I looked warily about my room, leaned forward to raise the edge of my blanket then looked under my bed. Making sure that what I assumed to be a dream was definitely ‘really’ a dream…
I was coming home from a ‘night out’ then suddenly, up ahead; standing motionless at the very entrance to my street was a form that bore a striking resemblance to Nneka.
Before my eyes, the likeness turned into a lizard and began to stare menacingly at me.
As a normal [rational] Nigerian would do, first of all, I took a step back, looked both ways then pulled off my sandals and began to run (I didn’t want to wait and hear stories of how “dem shoot bird the mama come fly”)
The lizard chased me!!
I was being chased by a lizard.
It was when we both stopped momentarily to let an elderly looking dog riding an ‘okada go across the road that I noticed the lizard was now standing on its tail hands outstretched poised to push me into a hole [that suddenly materialized from thin air].
It succeeded!
In a blink of the eye, I was falling head first, hands flaring about into a hole that went on forever. I let out a confused cry and began to scream. I screamed as I continued to fall further into nothingness and I kept on screaming until I bolted into a sitting position (or, did I land on my bed?)
I opened my eyes.
Funny enough, I was not sweating. Does the absence of sweat mean that it wasn’t a nightmare? What are the parameters for classifying dreams into their various categories?
School is boring and slow, sometimes, I am tempted to set the girls hostel ablaze then seat back and admire my handiwork.
The sight of girls scurrying about in circles and the appeal of watching would-be-macho-super-hero boys storming in to the rescue would be enough excitement to last for say one week?
Buh, it would really be something but, I think I remember reading or hearing somewhere or so that arson is a punishable offense [sigh] there goes my genius plan!
Rumor has it that results would be posted soon. I wonder how mine would turn out.
Last session was a bit too ‘dramatic’ for my liking but, I don’t expect to fail (who ever does?)
5:47am, it is still ‘a bit’ too early to ‘wake up’ so, after I say a prayer for protection against ‘politically inclined’ animals [who else would want to kill for no just cause?], double check to make sure my windows, doors and curtains are firmly shut and my house hold is in order, I would have a brief nap before I eventually arise to conquer the day.
Night –night
- Tabby
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Entry 10
TRUTH OR DARE ?
Truth or dare? Those words seem playful right? Wrong! From the wrong mouth, you could find yourself walking under the scorching sun to either the office of the SUG vice president or that of the director of welfare to get forms for the sessions MBGC contest and weeks later, you could find yourself strutting your stuff on the stage jelly kneed before a panel of judges.
If you aren’t careful, you’d find yourself quarreling with your beloved boyfriend on a daily bases until he threatens murder because he doesn’t approve of you being recognized as the Most Beautiful Girl on Campus.
“So Tabby, what would it be; the truth or a dare?” those were the exact words spoken to me at Von’s birthday party.
It was that one-of-a kind party you’d ask yourself years later “did I really do that?!” To put the ‘z’ in crazy, we decided to serve ‘bolĕ, fish with palm oil sauce’ instead of the regular rice and cold drinks.
Although there was the familiar beer and soft drinks hidden in the fridge, it remained hidden for a long time still.
To show the guests that we meant business, there was a huge gourd of palm wine complete with calabash cups at the entrance of the house[the venue for the bash]!
Someone spiked the punch with vodka, innocent me, the drink was ‘sweet’ I drank like a fish filtering the much needed oxygen from water.
THAT was what lead to my downfall.
At the end of the day, I found myself [drunk as I was] trying to weasel out of a dare to go for MBGC competition.
As my luck would have it, Nneka my ‘bosom buddy and lifelong pal’ was present too and G*d bless her, she had everything on tape so, there was no way I could use the ‘it wasn’t me’ line.
I ended up being chaperoned to follow through with my deal to do the dare or forfeit and pay the not so available sum of 6,500 naira.
Buh, when I found out there was going to be a car involved for the winner, I didn’t feel so threatened anymore.
I said to myself “Tahilita dearie, it’s just a bloody form you are going to be filling, what was the worst that could happen.” right?
The thing is that [I should have known better] anything Nneka puts her mind to doesn’t always come out at its best.
The target for the demonic missile[correction: her demonic missile, "HER" being Nneka of course!] was I and Stan.
It began with snide comments and little arguments from Stanley [Nneka had educated him on the behind the scene actions between participants of beauty pageants and the judges] naturally, he disapproved.
I tried to straighten him out and tell him there were exceptions but, he wouldn’t listen, he was being a child.
By the time I scaled through the first stage of the MBGC competition, he outright forbade me to participate.
Can you imagine that?! [Abi the bros put ring for my finger give me belle before?]
When I discovered he was ‘intimate’ friends with not just ordinary yahoo boys but the ‘yahoo plus’ boys (a secret he had kept from me for so long), I decided that ‘his order’ was the final straw that broke ‘this camel’s’ back (there is no way I’d pay musical chairs with a dude that pledged allegiance to some river goddess slash marine spirit. Ewhew!)
Buh, my participation in the competition was the latest buzz on campus and doubled with the jist that I and the most ‘eligible bachelor’ on campus were having family problems (hum... I wonder who fanned that particular smoke) by the time I won the not so popular contest, my name turned to a house hold name, the ‘meshai’ (bread and egg) sellers renamed all the girls ‘aunty Tabitha’ as for Stanley, I told him that if anything should happen to me even if it was as little as the package of my ‘brazilian hair’ weavon that went missing, he would have a lot of people to answer too, and I meant it.
He came to his senses a few days afterward and has been trying to get us back together.
Am still peeved and have decided to take a break from 'relationships' in all its assorted forms.
I miss Stanley so much, especially when we run into each other at the girl’s hostel [me with Ivy, him with his new 'Tile'] or when I go out to eat at ‘our’ favorite hang outs.
Still, I have to be strong and use my head to reason this one out; if one of his ‘runs’ should go wrong and something happens to me, what would they write on my obituary, what would become of my mother? How I wish he was still my precious crush, then I could spend all day wishing he’d turn my way. [Sigh] life is so full of it.
- TABBY
Truth or dare? Those words seem playful right? Wrong! From the wrong mouth, you could find yourself walking under the scorching sun to either the office of the SUG vice president or that of the director of welfare to get forms for the sessions MBGC contest and weeks later, you could find yourself strutting your stuff on the stage jelly kneed before a panel of judges.
If you aren’t careful, you’d find yourself quarreling with your beloved boyfriend on a daily bases until he threatens murder because he doesn’t approve of you being recognized as the Most Beautiful Girl on Campus.
“So Tabby, what would it be; the truth or a dare?” those were the exact words spoken to me at Von’s birthday party.
It was that one-of-a kind party you’d ask yourself years later “did I really do that?!” To put the ‘z’ in crazy, we decided to serve ‘bolĕ, fish with palm oil sauce’ instead of the regular rice and cold drinks.
Although there was the familiar beer and soft drinks hidden in the fridge, it remained hidden for a long time still.
To show the guests that we meant business, there was a huge gourd of palm wine complete with calabash cups at the entrance of the house[the venue for the bash]!
Someone spiked the punch with vodka, innocent me, the drink was ‘sweet’ I drank like a fish filtering the much needed oxygen from water.
THAT was what lead to my downfall.
At the end of the day, I found myself [drunk as I was] trying to weasel out of a dare to go for MBGC competition.
As my luck would have it, Nneka my ‘bosom buddy and lifelong pal’ was present too and G*d bless her, she had everything on tape so, there was no way I could use the ‘it wasn’t me’ line.
I ended up being chaperoned to follow through with my deal to do the dare or forfeit and pay the not so available sum of 6,500 naira.
Buh, when I found out there was going to be a car involved for the winner, I didn’t feel so threatened anymore.
I said to myself “Tahilita dearie, it’s just a bloody form you are going to be filling, what was the worst that could happen.” right?
The thing is that [I should have known better] anything Nneka puts her mind to doesn’t always come out at its best.
The target for the demonic missile[correction: her demonic missile, "HER" being Nneka of course!] was I and Stan.
It began with snide comments and little arguments from Stanley [Nneka had educated him on the behind the scene actions between participants of beauty pageants and the judges] naturally, he disapproved.
I tried to straighten him out and tell him there were exceptions but, he wouldn’t listen, he was being a child.
By the time I scaled through the first stage of the MBGC competition, he outright forbade me to participate.
Can you imagine that?! [Abi the bros put ring for my finger give me belle before?]
When I discovered he was ‘intimate’ friends with not just ordinary yahoo boys but the ‘yahoo plus’ boys (a secret he had kept from me for so long), I decided that ‘his order’ was the final straw that broke ‘this camel’s’ back (there is no way I’d pay musical chairs with a dude that pledged allegiance to some river goddess slash marine spirit. Ewhew!)
Buh, my participation in the competition was the latest buzz on campus and doubled with the jist that I and the most ‘eligible bachelor’ on campus were having family problems (hum... I wonder who fanned that particular smoke) by the time I won the not so popular contest, my name turned to a house hold name, the ‘meshai’ (bread and egg) sellers renamed all the girls ‘aunty Tabitha’ as for Stanley, I told him that if anything should happen to me even if it was as little as the package of my ‘brazilian hair’ weavon that went missing, he would have a lot of people to answer too, and I meant it.
He came to his senses a few days afterward and has been trying to get us back together.
Am still peeved and have decided to take a break from 'relationships' in all its assorted forms.
I miss Stanley so much, especially when we run into each other at the girl’s hostel [me with Ivy, him with his new 'Tile'] or when I go out to eat at ‘our’ favorite hang outs.
Still, I have to be strong and use my head to reason this one out; if one of his ‘runs’ should go wrong and something happens to me, what would they write on my obituary, what would become of my mother? How I wish he was still my precious crush, then I could spend all day wishing he’d turn my way. [Sigh] life is so full of it.
- TABBY
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