PATTERN

I normally write when I have 100% inspiration...i.e when I get this intuitive nudge from within that pushes me to a keyboard. But today I have only 60% inspiration, so to speak, so I just hope that what I wanna say comes out clear...

You know what's funny with me is that when I get visions of my future; I don’t see the little kids running around the backyard like many women do. Yet I am the biggest romantic I know (well after *Kendra-high school friend. She’s on a whole other level). I see a nice house, sometimes three houses (all belonging to me), I see my nice interior living room, I see the trained dog & cat, and I see my man; Loving me ever so exclusively in his big dark frame and big ol’ bright heart. It’s not that I don’t want any kids, I didn’t say that. But neither did I say that I do… Oh and I tell ya, that’s music to my mom’s ears. She simply cannot bear the fact of having to deal with the social rejection of her first born daughter having a child out of wedlock…! When I was in high school she would say, “You should focus on your KCSE, not on boys”. In Uni she would say, “You need to focus on your career and make your own money. Those things (boyfriend/fiancé/husband) should matter after.”
Now that I have graduated and I am working she says “Not now. Think about your masters… You must be independent…”
My mother has always had a strong part in my decision making. She’s strong, determined, beautiful…and I mean this; people always say their mom’s are hot, my mom is hot. She’s funny (gat this one from her), conservative, sensitive, nagging, inquisitive & wholesome. We do not always meet eye to eye, in fact we hardly do (my dad says it’s because we are just alike-errr no we’re not r u fucking kidding me), but her voice, that voice that makes my brow plunge into an expressive thought, rings in my head whenever I am caught up in something. Like when I wanted to go outside and play on a weekday in class 7 and I knew I should have been studying, that voice came “Remember that you are now a pre-candidate …”. Or when I was in the shower hurriedly scrubbing trying not to miss the next episode of ‘Melrose Place’ on KTN, it would quiver in my psyche “Always wash behind your ears! You don’t want someone to come close to you and see your skin looking like a plate with oil that doesn’t get clean”.

Anyways, that’s just a by-the-way.

I believe that I will see the kids running around, once I have a good man. That, you see is the prerequisite to that vision. I do instead see something else … I see two girls …grown up, past their years of youthful revelry and indulgence. My two girls are beautiful and tall and they are reading the story of my life from my words…from a diary that I kept (or a blog-who knows). They’re reading about the years of my youth, my failures and successes, my heartbreaks and my journey to finding true love (their dad) because to me, love is what I live for.

Garry and I ended things a couple of weeks ago. Sigh…
It wasn’t working. I was asleep when he was awake, I was awake when he was asleep… working hours were cramped, I turned into a nag when he didn’t respond to a text, he pulled back when I wasn’t sentimental, I became non-empathetic, he became indifferent and then in a hurricane of pain and confusion I told him that we needed to end it. He couldn’t agree more.
And that was it.

I cried everyday for a week after that. I broke down in bed, I broke down in the shower-every time, I broke down in a matatu once, I was just a mess. When I went to Nanyuki for work, I remember this one morning and I just feel sorry for myself. I had to get up by 5am to prepare presentations for my boss that day…I had slept late listening to D’angelo because at the time music was the only thing that could get me past the tears. When my alarm went off at 5, I was groggy and sleep deprived… I remember feeling like my eyelids were bound together because my eyes couldn’t open…I had cried so much that I was completely swollen and puffed around my eyes. And then Garry’s memory, out of default, seeped into my conscience. Always the first thought in my head when I woke up…I switched off the alarm and lifted my body up. My chest felt like dead weight. And then suddenly I felt this burning piercing pain at the pit of my stomach. It was so painful and shockingly overwhelming that I made a screaming sound when it attacked me. And then finally my eyes opened only to allow tears to free from where they were now in constant release. My body went automatically into a curling position…I tried to press my stomach with my finger tips to locate the pain. What the hell was going on…?! I didn’t realize that it had already been thirty minutes when my colleague rung my hotel room phone. He was calling to ask if I was dressed and ready since we needed to be downstairs in the next fifteen. He asked if I was okay. I said no. “I think I have food poisoning…” I cried. He came into my room. He asked me if I needed to throw up or if I had a running stomach. “No…I was fine last night and then when I woke up today my stomach was paining” And then he looked at my face and asked, “Purple, have you been crying?”

I went to the nurse’s. It was acidity. The nurse said that I needed to take this pill and chew these other ones 8 times that day because I was one breakdown away from turning my acidity into an ulcer. “If you think that the work is stressful (the work my company was there to do) then just take a break because the stress will cause acidity and these are the last two pills I have that stop the production of acidity in your stomach. Chew these other ones (actal tums) all day anytime you feel pain but do not exceed 16 tablets…Also you should know that you could be producing acid long before your stomach starts to hurt, so take it easy” she finished.

That thirty minutes, before *Joseph came into my room to ‘save’ me, was the worst thirty minutes I had ever had in my life. I truly mean this. It was dark and sad and extremely sorrowful and how else can I describe it… It angers me that I got to this point. When I sat up on the bed and felt that piercing pain, that was Garry stabbing me with the very sword I gave to him to protect my heart. Overdramatic? Maybe, but that was what it felt like. I dated *Baby for three years: he cheated on me, he lied to me, he put me last, he loved me, he hurt me, he filled me, and when we broke up, sure my heart broke. But I was more lonely and missed the fact that he wasn’t in my bed at night than heartbroken, because I knew that relationship had to end. I met Garry once – in this beautiful dramatic acquaintance that lasted for 24 hours…we dated for 2-3weeks and he managed to break me this bad. I wonder if he was going through the same thing, or something similar… “nah, he’s probably kicking it with his boys without a care in the world” It was besides he who said that we shouldn’t talk at all after we break up…
The saddest thing-in my sleep, in my most peaceful time, I was hurting. So bad that when I woke up I had an ocean of acid in my tummy.

For the rest of the time in Nanyuki I consumed more actal tums than food or water. I had a beautiful hotel room, a scenery to die for, gourmet food, but it all meant nothing to me.
I couldn’t talk to Garry because he asked that we not talk. Despite the fact that I was busy, this here partner of mine shall I name her Heartbreak, did not leave my side. We were joined at the hip. Through the busy schedule, numerous conference calls, reservation adjustments and presentation preparations she stayed by my side pressing harder and harder into my chest as the memory of Garry’s face faded from my memory. I read in the true love magazine yesterday that it was scientifically proven now that a heartbreak causes the pain receptors in your body to be stimulated causing actual physical pain. Ha! Can you believe that! I asked my friends who I knew had had their hearts broken if they ever fell sick. “Like is it normal to be in this much pain?” most said not really but many of them said that yes they did fall sick-but not to the point where they had to go to hospital. Okay, so this is normal then, I thought. If *Patricia told me that she was so heartbroken that she used to FORGET to eat and that one time she fainted in town because of low blood sugar or whareva, and here she is, 8 months later, normal and happy then maybe I do have a chance of getting over this man.

My dad’s best man who all my life I called my uncle passed away the other day. I cried. I don’t know if it was because of the loss or because I was just depressed overall. I loved my ‘uncle’ but he had been ill a long time and I had already made peace with the fact that the man who used to buy me fudge and ask me for kisses in return is going to be gone. His daughter who was my childhood playmate and who I also love very much flew back in from the United States for the funeral. I had not seen her for almost twenty years. After the ceremony, we partied like maniacs. I was no longer in remission from my partyholic cancer…I was back in. In the meantime, *Thomas, her cousin, who I have known now for many years from different social circles started to hit on me. Tom and I well, we love the same music, (no actually he loves my music) we can have long meaningful conversations and I held him at the funeral as he wept over uncle *Eric’s descending casket. Uncle Eric and Tom were pretty close. Tom drove him to my granny’s 60 year anniversary wedding in Nyeri over a year ago, because Uncle Eric simply couldn’t miss this wedding. In his ailing frame, he managed to stand up throughout all the wedding prayers. This was the same wedding where I realized that I had to break up with Baby (refer to former blogs).

I had work every day last week but I met up with Tom everyday and drank and smoked and talked and drove around. He was my healing drug. I had already made it through a week without any breakdowns over Garry but Monday was Valentine’s Day and I didn’t want to be alone. I thought about having sex with him that day but decided not to. Garry did not call or text me.

On Sunday, I woke up hangover. I drank water and stared at my messy wardrobe in front of me. And I spotted Garry’s black sweater. I remembered him and realized I hadn’t thought about him in a couple of days. Cool. And then, my frenemies, Heartbreak along with Loneliness strolled into my bedroom with insolent looks on their faces. Heartbreak sat on the dresser far from me but Loneliness took his shoes and coat off and slithered into my bed. In a small panic, I managed a prayer… “not today God, please.”
I opened my facebook via my phone and searched for Garry. We were no longer friends on here, but I just wanted to see if in some sort of miracle way we were still friends and that all this had been a bad dream. I sent him a message. The first in a long time. Heartbreak smiled cunningly as she watched me punch in the letters “call me…”

I slept at 8pm that night (Sunday). Tom was calling me. I wasn’t in the mood so I put my phone on silent and slept. About four hours later, my Zain line which I had not used for like two weeks now started to SCREAM from under my bed in that irritating Nokia ring tone. “How did Tom get my zain number!!!” I thought. He didn’t even know I had two phones. I crawled on my stomach and reached for the damn cellie and opened one eye to look at the caller I.D. ‘Private no.’ I was now sure it was Tom. Natasha, my ‘cousin’ from the states, had that number. She must have given it to him.

“Hello??” I whispered trying to sound as sleepy and bothered as possible so as to make the conversation short.

“Helloooo?” I asked again

“Yeah. Hey...”

“Hello, who’s this” I was getting mad cuz I could feel my body waking up and I really needed to sleep to avoid a hangover day at work the next day.

“It’s Garry.” The deep, solid, unapologetic, beautiful voice said

“Omigod!” I was thrust into total consciousness.

He actually called. Can I just say, that that was the happiest I had ever been in the past three weeks. We talked… we caught up. He asked how I was doing; I asked how he was doing… He told me he missed me. And that he thought I would never talk to him again but that he doesn’t want to confuse me…because he wants out more than he wants in (of a relationship with me)… I heard him laugh…and, it felt like cold water on my overheating engine heart. And then his “mmh, mmh” sounds that he makes to show that he is listening to me when I’m talking. He told me about his near death experience and I was so shocked that I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t show him that. “I’ll call you on your birthday” he says… I say something in the lines of Oh that will be great, but what I’m really thinking is, my birthday is in two weeks…cant you call sooner…? Please.
And then I asked him if he has met someone… “nope” he brushes
“Well, I kind of have someone in my life…” I said. And I wanted to add “…but I want to be with you and not him. What can I do to make you come back to me G?” but instead I said “…but it’s nothing serious.”
And then his phone died… And that was that.

Next day, I texted him. No reply.

At night, Tom called me. Shit, I had completely forgotten about him. He asked me to give him a chance. He said, “I know you have told me that you are still in love with Garry but I’m ganna leave that as your problem. It’s not stopping me from pursuing you.” (Did I mention that Tom & Garry know each other? Yup. I just found out) And then he asked that I please text him before going to bed. I didn’t. Next day (today), he calls while I’m at work…he wants to bring me lunch. I tell him that he doesn’t have to. He mentions that he doesn’t do these kinds of things for chicks… I know that. He doesn’t have the best track record…but I don’t care, Garry is all I care about. But I accept the offer.

Garry, I just want you to know that I love you.
I don’t know why you don’t love me…
I thought for ten minutes before writing “love”, but I am sure beyond a doubt that it is what it is. You almost died; I would rather you know.

You said, ‘what r u doing to me Purple. What should I do Purple.’ You said that you miss me because you love my personality…
But that you want out, more than you want in.

What can I do to make you love me? Am I not your type? Am I not pretty enough? Am I not tall in enough or skinny enough or graceful enough? Really, what’s the issue here…

You said, “You know! I figured it out…why we didn’t work… There was a lot of miscommunication because of the distance. (yeah? No shit)… If we were both in the same place this wouldn’t be happening. I was thinking of coming for like a week, to see you…but I really want to buy a house, get some investments started here. Can I at least take you out for lunch when I get back?

You can marry me when you get back!

I love you.

Xoxo.