We have all watched those romantic episodes and movies where people meet, fall in love but because of one circumstance or another (sometimes huge assumptions which seem to just make an ass of the character), they seem not destined to be together until some great revelation happens and either Eve or Adam runs to stop a moving train or even more tragically, to stop a wedding before the bride and groom say I do because “the one” is almost getting away. People run down hallways, aisles and platforms, waving their limbs energetically, gesturing at whatever is moving to stop – to stop and ‘save’ the one. At the weddings, whilst the Eve and Adam reunite and amorously embrace (it’s the movies), half the wedding party is left shocked, and not in a good way.
The end of the year is nigh and many of us are bound to look back and some of us are bound to think about the one that got away in the year gone. May be a very small handful of us. Now, there are some who would argue that there is no such thing as “the one”; that the one is the here and now – the Miss/Mrs or Mr Right is the one you are sharing your life with and if the shoe don’t fit, then you move on to the next one. The argument is that there are many “the ones” out there. However, there are those who believe in the “love of your life” theory; that there is someone you meet and with whom you have a magnetic, cardiac and even carnal connection that should and would last forever, even in the thereafter.
In instances of “the one that got away”, there are many reasons as to why the relationship or the germ of it made it come to an end. For obvious reasons, this situation often leaves someone wondering about what could have been, and maybe to some extent wondering if some mistakes were made. It be could your fault; or the other person’s fault or other circumstances (distance, social status, cosmic distortions, etc.) that kept you apart. You tell yourself, if only things had worked out between the pair of you. The ‘if’ can be a very difficult place to be emotionally – it is usually hinged on the good memories you have of being with that person and the fear of losing them for good, or even the realization that you were not really on the same page and you will probably never have them in your life as you have dreamt of many times.
Some of us could be in the category of people who find it very difficult to stop dwelling on ‘if’ and move on to other possibilities. There are those of us who may feel that they are in a situation where all is not lost and that the situation can be rescued. This means you are thinking of how you should get this person back and possibly living out your dreams with him or her. Depending on how long it’s been since you interacted with the one that you think got away, they could be married or in another relationship and not available anymore. Now, it takes MGM or 20th Century Fox balls to try and get back someone who is already married or in a relationship. The logical advice would be not to ruin someone’s relationship or marriage because of a missed chance or past mistake; imagine if you were in the other person’s shoes (no, not the one that got away but the one who is dating or married to the one that got away) – one word would come to mind – karma.
There are some circumstances where the one that thinks you got away is simply lusting after you. He/she comes back looking for you, fans the flames and if you ‘reignite’ but do not reunite, you are bound to be left feeling empty. However, we all know that there is a warning about flames of the past. When we meet someone with whom we were previously involved, we are bound to feel ‘something move (even tectonically shift) in us’, but this is not to be confused with having a connection, because in the first place, you are no longer together and although there is nothing wrong in reflecting and even momentarily being caught in thoughts (we said thoughts, not throes ;)) of times gone by, the fact of the matter is that you are not together. If you are going to rumble in the hay for that tectonic shift, then it is wise to know whether it is just that – especially if you are looking for something more.
Reflecting on some advice that has been given about past relationships and moving on, one writer said that sometimes, when we meet our exes or people we were emotionally involved with and then we realize that they have moved on or are well settled in new unions, we are bound to feel a void inside; this is especially so if we are still in the unattached category.
There is a saying that there are in fact no rules – because every relationship is unique. Suffice to say that there are situations where Eves and Adams who got away actually get the chance to get back together and some of these reunions turn out to be great. If you fall in the ‘if’ category and think you ought to give things a chance but you have not seen or communicated with each other for a while, it is wise to keep expectations in check – some things may have changed.
Obviously, these are personal decisions to make, based on all the facts about why the relationship ended. Maybe you are in that group which feels that yes, the person went away, but it is time to stop thinking about what would have been and look forward to new possibilities.
Whatever the case, may the coming year bring better horizons.
By Project 44
A few weeks ago, we hosted Renee (Perfectly Woman) and she recently graciously hosted us and so this week, we give you our bonus post at http://perfectlywoman.wordpress.com/2013/11/29/poles-and-dovetails/
Meet Venessa, a close lady friend of mine. We are having a date tonight. Our tête-à-tête runs a couple of years back, way back in high school. She wasn’t exactly drop dead gorgeous in that Marilyn Monroe’s fashion (not like Huddah, our local ‘celebrity’), but when she set her exterior anatomy in motion, few men could resist craning their necks for more; she swayed gently, cautiously. A deep sea in light currents.
I don’t fuss much about looks as a matter of fact; I will at any time of the day trade a Rihanna for Sarah Baartman (Google her!).
Now Venessa girl has been quite elusive over the past few weeks. Our friendship has remained steadily modest, but lately I noticed subtle currents building up – it has been a long time coming. Those sideways stares that lingered longer than normal had become sweetly disconcerting.
The initially plain phone chats had transformed into charged gooey zones. I could feel her pulsating heart when I read her e-mails (we started this habit way back when phones were a reserve for the lucky few and have stuck to it to date!) I noticed she wore a new perfume the last evening we met. She had sparkling smile too! A dentist somewhere must be thanked for this.
I prayed my intuitions were right, prayed hard that she sees a man in me but not a monk brother. I have read many chronicles about this sort of friendships.
There simply exists no innocent society between people of the opposite gender, they say. The woman has been known to play it safe, and hold to her end of the bargain, nice but detached. However, the man can never be trusted with such hypocrisies. Sooner or later he will strike the cupid nerve and if the woman had forgotten to recite her rosary, she will one morning wake up frantically searching for where she threw her panties! The wolf would be huddled in the furthest end of the bed, pretending to be sound asleep but inwardly grinning end to end, thanking the gods!
She finally appeared, late. I don’t do much of that – waiting – not with friends with meager benefits. But this was Venessa!
She strutted across the street, in her characteristic grace. For the first time, I felt nervous meeting her, felt that here before me was an incredibly attractive woman I have been too blind to notice. She had replaced her normal jeans pants with a maroon dress, those skimpy one arm affairs that firmly arrests a glorious ass. It did magic to her insidious curves. I was tempted to grab a handful of her posterior as she delicately sunk on my chest for a hug but harshly dismissed the idea. That would be indelicate, inappropriate.
“You are tense dude, are you pressed or something?”
“L.O.L, you kept me waiting, was holding my breath tight hoping you
wouldn’t disappoint like last time.” I chuckled, almost nervously. What was wrong with me!
“Hmm, Nairobi traffic, but here I am! Si unajua Jogoo road na majam zake! So what’s the plot?”
I get scared by that question easily! When a Nairobi chic, especially from Eastlands asks you for a plot, you RUN! It never ends well, especially when you let her take the lead. I have once been cornered by a stocky waiter sneaking out of a restaurant, leaving my date and the bills behind. I don’t know how he sniffed me out, perhaps I wasn’t the only transgressor he had met, or I reeked of suspicion – probably the later. It was an awful experience. I lost the girl and tainted my person.
“You forget it is our movie date?”
We catch up on Fridays for movies, mostly we treat it so casually, just a way of catching up and to kill time.
But this Friday felt different, she looked different, smelled different. I would be a fool to ignore all the cues. No wonder she looked at me with slightly raised eyebrows, quizzically and perhaps disenchanted.
You see, all women are the same. Regardless of the kind of friendship you harbor, they have expectations, albeit flimsy. She will expect you to pull out a Jet Lee when an enemy strikes (trust me, I attempted that once and risked a jaw). You become an Alejandro when her boyfriend beats her up; you transform to an ATM machine when she spots that offensively pricey necklace at Kiko Romeo.
So to avoid a sudden realization of an urgent appointment with a dentist, I surprised her and shocked myself with the idea of an Italian cuisine.
Other than the name, and that they serve Italian dines and wines, I completely new nothing about Ristorante (I love the music in the name!)
She pleasantly rubbed into the idea, praising their exotic fares to the heavens.
“I would definitely enjoy that dude! especially with you. So many memories about the place!”
“Have you been there before?” I asked, eyes popping.
“Oh yeah, a couple of times. Paul used to take me there, remember Paul?”
Of course I remember that batterer. He was her ex-boyfriend who treated her like trash. One day she knocked on my door at midnight crying, one eye red and swollen. I shook with rage and swore
vengeance, promised to protect her from that lunatic of a boyfriend. What can’t I do for her?
However a week later I spotted the two enjoying ice cream amidst giggles, only for her to appear two days later sobbing again. This time with a bruised arm. She emphatically assured me she would never see him again. It was over.
I didn’t hear about him again, not until now. She probably kept her word. I seemed to spend more and more time with her since then. That is how I started learning of the growing fondness but fought to keep that demon at bay. It was scary just as it was exciting.
“Well you know I don’t like that name,” I retorted, quite seriously,
“Yeah I know you hate him, but people change you know” she replied, stealing a mischievous side glance. I was surprised at how she talked so freely about him, even with an edge of fondness! I threw her an icy glance and changed the topic. We were already inside the restaurant.
“Here we are. Trattoria it is. Shall we?” I pulled her a chair.
We had settled in Luna Lounge, under her meticulous suggestion. She elaborated on the magnificence of the lounge, an intimately charming ambiance against a background of fusion jazz. Holly heavens!
She exclaimed about the soothing nature of Chianti, marveled at the fineness of the Roman’s signature wine, Frascati and interrogated the notorious alcohol-kissed soda pop Lambrusco!
I was left to constant nodding and appreciation as she breezed through the list of that stuff. I think that kind of skill is for waiters and waitresses, no? She went on ranting ridiculous names. Luckily the waitress came for our orders. I pointed at Venessa with my lips.
“Ask that one.”
She was at it again. Throwing food and wine jargon like a daughter of a chef and a wine vendor. How do ladies master these things?
Our orders came faster than I expected. The service was excellent, the food great (whatever it was I was eating) mellowing a fine evening away with such a delicious date. I noted a couple of heads turn again and again in her direction. There are several “bonga points” that add up when swanking alongside a lady like Venessa.
I was enjoying her company to bits. I looked into her large white smarty eyes, drunk her in gulps and felt my pounding heart against the ribcage. The cupid arrow’s struck and burrowed deep in. I knew I had my unguarded moments but the fear of rejection kept looming, the worst feeling any man should ever bear! For a close friend it would be
This was the moment. I had over the years gone through this scene in my mind. The setting, the time and place all seem to synchronize.
I cleared my throat.”Venessa….there is something I ha….”
“Hey! Look who is coming this way!” She cut in excitedly.
She was beaming and looking behind me. Whoever it was, I was not very excited about the intrusion.
“Hey honey, what a surprise! I never imagine you would come here alone…well, with another friend.”
“Hi baby, I didn’t think I would find you here! So have you come alone too? This is Dre’, my close friend. I am sure I have told you about him. Dre’ meet Paul, my boyfriend.”
What guts! What betrayal! What insensitivity! I sat there, shocked, venomous as the two hugged. I gave him a frigid limp handshake, shooting him with eye bullets.
“Glad to meet you man, my girl has spoken quite a lot about you. I thought you come from another planet!” What cheek!
“Am good.” Was my somber response.
I felt stupid, used, useless.
Venessa cast me a sympathy look and asked for a minute with me.
The ‘repentant intruder’ insisted she should leave with him. He counted several thousand bills and placed them on the table.
“Thanks dude for keeping an eye on her. Best friend, ait?”
By Erick Njoroge (Guest Writer)
“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” - Margaret Mitchell
First, I will start by admitting that I was apprehensive about this post because it is not always that my friends on Skype, narrating crazy stuff which she expects you to piece together into a post – all aimed at laying it out there for Adam. This is one is a but a lot of do’s and don’ts when it comes to rolling in the hay – also known as “bombing “ in Project 44 jargon. Marylyn, one of my good friends is not only funny; she can be quite blunt too. On this chat, she cuts to the chase and tells me that although Project 44 has explored the nooks and crannies of relationships, there is a neglected area which can and should probably be explored through a series of posts. There goes Marylyn, she is thinking about ‘a series of posts’. I go silent because I think we have pretty much exhausted ISSUES, to the extent of blogging and re-blogging about very random issues such as goats - and these are not those goats which Adam takes home to Eve’s papa.
Marylyn starts by asking me how many posts we have done about kissing and bombing. I can’t remember off the top of my head – because we have not focused solely on that -although we have touched on it in some posts. I chuckle, because I am not sure how that topic would be explored. I asked her what she had in mind and she told me that she would summarize a conversation she had during a girls’ night out, and I would piece it together into a post. I asked her if she was aware that it would be too one sided, to which she said that is what she meant by ‘exploring’, so that Adams too can have their say, and that way, “everyone saunters into better experiences”.
She starts with what she defines as the “contact” and says that Adams should know that one cannot approach a kiss like an ambush and expect to get far with it. Apparently, these ladies seemed to agree that some Adams just ambush you like Boko Haram in Mali; before you know what is happening, you are left shocked at the “raid”. They want Adams to know that kissing is an art (sounds cliché, but apparently not many know that). She tells me that, if Eve is not thinking about a kiss, especially if it is the first kiss, chances are that Adam’s move will rival an ambush, hence Adam has to get the moment right. She gave an example of one Eve who said that, there was this guy who would get busy (eyes shut) doing what he thought was kissing, which was just sticking his tongue in her mouth, as soon as the lips touched. At this point, Marylyn sends an ‘lol’ emoticon, and then continues to say that this Eve said that she would feel this weird touch, coming in and out like that movement snakes make with their tongue, and described it as “a very unsexy and disturbing feeling”. The advice is here is that Adam should take the cue: if he does not feel Eve changing the approach and as far he can tell (even with his eyes completely shut) she is not sticking her tongue out, then he has no explanation as to why his tongue is out there. I am bewildered.
She then delved into the hygiene zone and told me that they all agreed that lack of hygiene “murders” everything; add that to a clueless guy and Eve’s flight instincts are on overdrive, she says. I wondered who would have thought that we would still be on this, in this day and age; that we’re in the 21st century and still talking basics. Her reply was that, I should tell them (Adams of course) that hygiene is for everyone, not only Eve – and that while it’s clear that not all Adams are cut for the salon – to do manicures and pedicures and even have a head massage (the head on the shoulders) – we need to just have basics. Basics are not about chewing mint gums but brushing teeth and dental flossing because (as she put it), “there is no greater turn-off than embracing an Adam who smells like all flora and fauna thrives in his buccal cavity!”
Before I could process that, Marylyn is on the home stretch. She is now typing about actual bombing and I quickly inquired if I was expected to factor that in too. She sends a ‘shaking my head’ emoticon, and wonders how Eves out there will be “saved“if I didn’t. This made me feel like I am onto some important rescue mission and leaned forward, to read more clearly.
“Fridah, you have to tell them”. I ask her what I need to tell Adams. ”Tell them, that we know they want the “cookie”, and sometimes (on some rare occasions :D) we want it too, and if we are on the same page about that, then they need to know the cookie crumbles in phases”. I sigh – for unknown reasons. The message is that Adams need to know that, it is not about power or even size of the “weapon” – it is all about technique. In my mind, I am wondering if the masses do not know this already. Then she loads on more details; in summary, according to the bevy of girls, some Adams just go through the whole ineffectual exercise and then roll over with a stupid smile on their face, perspiring like they have been ploughing hectares of land and all the while, Eve is left one question ,“what just happened?!”. She says to tell them that “the way to hit ‘bulls’ eye’ is to be clearly aware of the position of the pelvis in relation to ‘the weapon’ – it is not by pumping and chancing on luck or divine intervention”. I giggle, and then find myself laughing out loud.
Finally, she concludes by saying that conversation is encouraged; because bombing is not like prayer where faithful pour their heart out to God and leave hoping that he heard. Adam should not assume that because he reached the ‘promised land’, Eve can ‘view it from a distance’ she tells me. Now, at this point, I am more focused on how the post will be packaged and before I finish my thought process, she says that most Adams need to know that most Eves are more than willing to be spanked, turned around, and even squat even, hehehehehe - anything that allows for near normal posture all in the pursuit for pleasure (for both). However, they can only do this if Adams are honest and not looking at it as a moment to prove anything (even when he is clueless). She says it’s important for Adam to know that it is exhausting to want to try stuff and then be met with resistance or a know-it-all attitude which leaves Eve feeling like she’s getting the short end of the stick (figuratively and literally). In the end, there are no medals, unless they come packaged in moans and grants after reaching “Canaan”.
No, seriously. How deep is it?
OK, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?
Why am I here? Project 44 asked me here. They said “Pay us a visit. Come check out our guys, they’re a cool bunch. Share a word or two.”
“I will be glad to come!” I enthused. “Do you serve tea? Some cookies, cake, to go with it perhaps? Food?” Are you wondering who I am? If you’re guessing ‘an African woman who loves food’, then bingo!
“Sure!” Project 44 agreed. Tea? This one must be from Western Kenya, they must have thought.
Even as I took the mic they offered me, I wasn’t sure what I would say.
Then I saw a group of big-bodied men struggling to uproot a big tree stump in my neighborhood the other day, and a light-bulb moment came on. 44 (can I call you that?), I might just have something to say to your cool audience after all!
I will clear my throat, take a sip of tea (sweeeet!), then I will hope that none of you will sense my nervousness “…they’re a cool bunch”. You’re a cool bunch – remember that when you get the urge to boo or heckle.
It was huge, the tree. Ginormous. Very conspicuous. It stood at the centre of this school compound, distributing the shade from its branches generously. Lately however, it seemed to have become an inconvenience. As I walked by, I noticed that cabro paving blocks were being laid down around the compound. It stood alone, the other trees having been cut down. I knew it was only a matter of time before this particular tree suffered the same fate.
True to my suspicions, the tree was cut down a few days later as the cabro work progressed. I saw a ‘gang’ of men come by to observe its stump. As I walked past the school on this particular morning, I noticed a four-wheel drive vehicle, with a big chain attached to it, parked beside the stump. Evidently, they wanted the whole tree gone; branches, roots, and now the stump. They had dug around it and cut off its roots. What they needed to do now was pull it out. They intended to tie the chain around the tree stump, two men were doing this already, and then they would use the vehicle to pull and yank it off the ground. Even as they did this, the men panted heavily, sweat adorning their masculine bodies. This tree was not going down without a fight.
The tree had been standing tall for years. It had spread its branches all out, domineeringly. It stamped its authority; “I have a right to be here”, it seemed to say. It had seen season, after season come and go. It now stood defiantly, as the men tried to brainstorm on how best to destroy it. It wouldn’t be an easy task uprooting such a tree.
I left them to their mission and when I came back that evening, I witnessed their fait accompli. The school compound now lay bare. All paved with cabro. No tree in sight.
Think of love. Marriage. How many marriages require such rigorous work to destroy? How many have roots so deeply ingrained that killing it will require a posse of well-built men, a truck, power saws, axes, machetes, you name it? That is why I ask: How deep is your love?
Everyone seems to agree that divorce rates are at an all time high. Marriages are so easy to destroy nowadays. Why?
But why not?! How is a marriage to last when you base your decision to marry on the size of his wallet? When the money goes, won’t you disappear without necessarily seeking a Harry Houdini stunt to make it happen?
How will you avoid divorce if you are not willing to make sacrifices, to compromise, to do whatever it takes to nourish your love? How will you not split up if you cannot weather the harsh conditions; rainy days, freezing cold and scorching sun? Tell me, how will divorce not hound you when you are unable to remain faithful to your spouse?
If you are not working towards avoiding divorce from the onset of your marriage, then aren’t you walking right into it? I am tempted to think that you plan for divorce just as you plan for ‘happily-ever-after’. You just don’t know it at the time.
We are mostly a ‘microwave’ generation who mostly purchase pre-cooked meals from the grocery stores, toss it into the microwave and eyes on the timer, we impatiently tap our feet as we wait for it to heat up. With no energy to even fetch a plate for the food, we opt instead to eat directly from the packet. Is this ‘microwave’ mentality affecting our marriages as well? We don’t have time to cook anything, do we? Be it food or relationships. We’d rather just jump right to the end? There are better things to do: corporate corridors to strut, classes to attend, deals to strike, money to make… who has the time to ‘cook’ up a healthy relationship storm when there is easier, faster, readily available ‘junk’?
Just like the perfect meal, marriage takes some time, some work and some patience. It involves choosing a recipe that you can work with – a man or woman who shares your values and beliefs. The right ingredients – love, integrity, respect, commitment. The right temperature – a loving atmosphere, neither to burn nor under-cook. It means burning that meal and having the patience to do it over, and over again, until you get it right.
Is it not obvious that a strong building owes its longevity to the strong foundation during construction; a tree to the deep penetration of its roots to the ground; a strong marriage to the strong values it is based on?
The rate of divorce is high because the foundation of marriage nowadays is shallow. We concentrate on trivialities like physical appearances, wealth, social status, heck even the number of Twitter followers and Facebook friends. Go figure!
How much effort will it take to yank your spouse away from you? Will it take an army of able-bodied, bulldozer-wielding, Yokozunas, or will a gentle toss from a feeble pair of hands suffice? Will it take a destructive Tsunami to have your marriage tumbling down, or will a gentle breeze whisk it away like a feather?
As you chew on that, allow me to finish my cup of tea and to grab this chance to thank 44 for offering me this precious cuppa in the light of our difficult economy.
Feel free to ‘avenge’ my visit by stopping by my home at www.perfectlywoman.wordpress.com
I will try to match 44’s generosity. I promise.
I sat down with him to listen to this Adam and Eve story. It’s always interesting how when we listen to other people’s stories and drama, we tend to see things in black and white more than we think they do. In any event, if you’re the one in a relationship, you tend to wear a darker shade of goggles than those who are looking at the relationship from outside. That’s just part of human nature, because we are emotionally and physically entangled with the other person – experiencing with them is not the same as hearing about it. So I had a chance to listen to his side, and her side through him.
Her story: she is a woman who likes the finer things in life; being classy is something that is important to her and she wants those around her to be conversant with and exude class. She can’t necessarily afford all these finer things in life but wants to be with a man who can make her afford these things; he should be able to stand tall on his wallet and see beyond the average. She knows about the 80%-20% rule; she recognizes when she has found the 80% but if the 80% Adam is not also a knight in shining Hummer, then it’s definitely a problem for her. She also realizes that he who comes with the 20% may not necessarily treat her well – he may just avail the 20% and somehow assume that vicariously, the 20% will work itself into 80%.
His story: he’s a man chasing purpose in his life. He’s smart, has been employed before but left his job to pursue a dream of his, purpose and fulfillment of being. He’s just starting the journey but so far so good; he’s not calling himself a millionaire yet, but he’s not counting either. He makes ends meet, he gets by financially but personally, he’s growing and liking the fruits of his journey. He’s had what some would call a simple start to life and as time goes by, he learns the difference between the simple and finer things in life; however, he’s not concerned about needing to know and needing to be seen to know the finer things in life. To him, these are things that suit some and one gets to know them progressively; there is no race to the finish line and nothing to be ashamed of.
Their story: they really, really like each other. OK, they love each other. Beneath their relationship is a foundation of friendship. They are close; one can even say close friends. They know each other very well; if one went into a coma or some sort of memory lapse, the other would almost perfectly speak for him/her. They have shared some of their innermost secrets and know each other’s weaknesses. The thing is, they have dated but then they broke up but continued to have this friendship. They speak on the phone each day; meet up regularly and even visit with each other’s families. Friends and family think they are just meant to be together. In fact, it’s almost like they were together but just without the label saying “We are……….”. They cheer each other up; they cherish each other. They are everything but together. Why you may ask?
He’s been a good boyfriend and friend to her; he surprises her; does things to lift her spirits when she’s down, his acts are chivalrous and gives her what she needs. She realizes that he is a good man; he gives her with an open heart within his means; gives her what she needs. But she wants more. She wants the 20% – she wants him to stand tall on his wallet and be counted as a man who knows and appreciates class. When he says that maybe they cannot be together, she’s scared. She wants to have him but she doesn’t want to commit to him; she doesn’t want to lose the 80% either.
He knows what his potential is and he knows the purpose he is chasing in life. He’s had the Benjamins, he knows they can come and go; he knows that his worth today is not his worth tomorrow. He provides for her the best he can but he has his principles of purpose.
Now, when I listened to all this, I thought about how sometimes we want to have our cake and eat it. When we find the 80% (depending on what the 80% constitutes for an Eve or Adam), we want to hold on to it whilst still looking for the mirage of 80+20%. We hold on to it because as time goes by, we don’t want to have missed this boat in case the big ship doesn’t come along.
I thought about reading about the three Ps in men’s kind of love – the ability to profess, to provide and to protect. I thought about how the Adam in this case had professed (yes, he did!), how he protected (OK, I didn’t see him fight any lions but he did) and how he provided; out of these three Ps, his ‘provide’ wasn’t rated up to scale. It made me think how sometimes we balance our needs and wants in our relationships and how I always feel that it is worrying if your needs are provided for but your desire for your wants are not met and that tips the scales. I asked myself if this Adam’s ego was bruised – I am not a man but I am told that when a man’s ability to provide is questioned, it is like shooting an arrow to the ego – and we can all imagine how it feels when the arrow is pulled out. At this point, I felt that he should just walk away from the relationship. If she wouldn’t accept him now for all that he is and his potential, then she should just let him go. Yes, deep feelings run through their veins like blood and they feel like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that come almost perfectly together except for a few pieces but my take was that these missing pieces were fundamental ones.
A week after we talked, she told him that she was thinking of getting back together with him. In fact, more recently, she’d become more supportive of the pursuit of his dream and was thinking more and more of a future together. In reality, they behaved like a couple only that they were not carrying a label she was not ready to commit to the tag of a couple; not without the 20%. But she pingponged right back after a couple of weeks and said she wasn’t really sure about it.
I thought about the posts we have written before about what loving someone and being together means – about respect, about fairness for each other’s feelings, about what Adams and what Eves want from relationships; about looking in the mirror; about how women and men should treat each other. I thought about how sometimes we (mostly Eves) get lost chasing a lottery ticket when we already have a jackpot and I thought about how this Adam deserved better. Surely he deserved better.
Have your say.