His ferocious lewdness has driven your esteem to the gutter, his raging river swept everything in its course, your sanity included. There were obvious pointers and cameos of infidelity that he manifested prior to your union but enthusiasm blinded you; your love will heal him, he’ll grow out of it, it’s just a phase, whore phase perhaps? (If it exists). After a while he proposed, hold your horses, he proposed that you guys seek a modern solution to your problems, his problem. You look defeated, a shell of the sanguine woman you once we’re. That woman doesn’t exist anymore, she wilted away. Sporadically, somewhere beneath your subconscious her voice faintly goes ‘you deserve better you know you do‘ and that’s just it, no will, no power, just hope and a voice.
Your 20s flew past, all of a sudden you were a 32-year-old thornback who can feel her allure shed off. ‘My thighs aren’t as firm as before’, you’d think. You swear you heard your knees pop thrice last week, you no longer club hop – it clocks 1.30 AM and you can’t have it anymore – stopped partying all together. Can’t even go back home since your mom demands grandkids (from a marriage), she has perpetualy bugged your WhatsApp with Bible verses and quotes from heaven knows where about women and marriage. Each time she does you can picture her in her religious head wrap grab away your father’s phone, she can’t keep a phone (For various reasons, including perennially not returning your mom’s change, she’s been threatening to leave him for the past 40 years). Her poor eye sight making her squint as she types in her message on the other hand tracking the Bible verse with her wrinkled finger and forgetting to hit send which your dad will, only after adding ‘ni mum’ – he wants to distance himself from your mom’s intrusiveness and doesn’t want to self sabotage from the monthly stipend you send for his drinks at the local. All these factors fed into you wounding up marrying Davy.
Davy, a skinny free spirited wanderlust that somehow manages to pay bills off his YouTube travel channel. You guys met after Maureen, an old friend, put up an ad ‘women seeking men‘ for you on a local newspaper. Davy swept you off your feet with his seasoned pick up lines, albeit somehow narcissistic you married him anyway after 5 months of dating.
POLYAMOURY, AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP; The modern solution. His randiness wouldn’t stop, everytime he was away your heart bled insecurity and jealousy. You knew what he was upto, a prime rule of open relationships is that you inform your other partner about your planned sexual encounters upfront. Only that you think he halves his interactions because he isn’t quite the honest type. On the flip side you are having a nightmare getting texts back, let alone attracting a potential partner. You’ve only bagged one, Ben, the geeky co-worker from your office and it was terrible. Nothing memorable, he kept on blurting a strange name ‘Jasmine‘. – who you later learnt was a fictional animated character from Disney’s ‘Aladdin‘. So you dumped his ass, what kind of fetish is that?
An alert goes off on your phone. It’s 8 PM, you ignite the car’s engine, her warmth embracing its interior.Tonight you had to pass time, Davy tipped you off, he’s having some sought of an entanglement,
with August, my bad with Maureen, your friend-ish at y’alls apartment. You sigh and drive off to the pick up location, a call of duty, your second job as an Uber Driver.
In that car your sense makes a resurgence and realise the short change, you decide to take the leap and leave him, not like your mother leaves, but you’ll like leave leave him.
Ping! Your phone goes off again, a text.
‘He who finds a husband, finds a good thing especially finding a friend in the husband…ni mum’ – Dad.
For what’s it worth
Banana Clip – Miguel