When Love makes you a Cat
You can replace cat with the P word. Ha! This is a story of daring, dashing, and devising.
I have noticed that there is something about me that is alluring, appealing and attractive. But I’ve seen that those who draw near feel a greater force that is repelling, nauseating and disgusting.
It’s now time to wage into the deep pool again and find out what is going on. The first impulse or the primary impulse that brought me to writing is the acknowledgment that I am scared to love again. But the deeper I pondered that phrase the more it didn’t ring true.
How can I be scared to love when I am going on dates, traveling to meet people and driving at night through windy roads with fear gripping my belly to fulfill commitments that present opportunities to love or be loved.
It never really crossed my mind that I am scared to love because I feel daring! I feel like a bosom lover fully immersed in every moment that I am gifted and doubly so when the moment is with a woman.
I guess I have come to realize that the depth of every relationship in my life is one decision away from being frozen or gone.
It was 13 years ago January 19, 2009 that I left Nigeria for the great US, and I never considered that I will be gone for 12 years before returning again. I remember hugging my parents and leaving the airport eager for what life had in store on the other side, in a new world. I was 18, and I returned 31. Time didn’t just fly, it zoomed.
Okay, fine. You already know the story of heart ache. Engaged. Ready to live and take on the whole world with my the woman of my dreams. Well, even that sorry story is 4 years ago now.
Someone said to me today. You will get your woman. Almost as an indictment like
You are a good looking man. And your kind often get whatever they want with perseverance.
It really irked me. It really bothered me. Mostly because it’s true but it felt insensitive. Do you understand that I have worked hard for everything that I have and what feels like everything to me, has slipped out of grasp, 4 times.
But therein lies another admission of guilt. In a short lifespan with 3 decade or is it century, whatever 30 years equates to. How could you have had 4 women that their love and attention was everything. So much so that I would plunder myself into the abyss to wash clean and come out new.
The abyss never left me clean though. It Infact let others more stained and me just covered with the betrayal of loss and the promise of tomorrow.
A constant swim through the emotions of today with no desire to look down into the ocean or look out to my view. Just a relentless swim through the ocean to a destination unknown, unindentified; and judging by my feeling of everything-slipped-away, undesired.
I am a passive by stander in the life God has given me to play the hero and the Samaritan.
So when she said that I get what I want. It triggered me because I know it’s true. I know that life is unfairly in my favor as a man. As a tall man. As a handsome man. As a man who gets to live comfortably. But another thing hit me.
I have recklessly focused on unearthing only the best gem stone that I have left many stones, many previous stones opened and scared.
I can’t even imagine a man looking at my daughter with the eyes that do not lie but speak very little of love. Eyes that conjure deep emotional connections to the soul and to the moment yet clearly taste just like ocean salt water.
I’m not satisfied, I am hurting, I am scared so I plunged hearts through with me. I’m scampering around piercing hearts with a knife just to see if their heart hides the gold that I seek.
But but but …. bIG BUTT too!
Hearts are more precious than gold.
Me: hearts are more priceless but gold is more valuable.
What am I saying? Scary cat. Back to scary cat.
I don’t want to be loved.
That is the truth. I don’t want to find a woman. I don’t want a wife. I don’t want commitment. I do Not because I am scared of being left. Being discarded. Being not enough. Being seen and considered short of the mark. Being treated like sin.
So what do I ?
I enjoy every moment. Squeeze life out of every opportunity to be present with someone. Assuming they will be gone tomorrow or in a week. The whole time, I am waiting for them to discard me and when they don’t, I am wondering when I will find that button to push that will make them eject.
Every single time that they walk away, I rejoice. Because they prove my narrative. They prove my fears right:
No one that knows me truly, will stay.
It’s a lie, Dolapo.
Here is what is true:
Love does not survive in conditions where mosquitos thrive.