I honestly thought by now her attitude would have improved. Despite how long we’ve been together she still keeps nagging me every time. Do this, Do that. Give me this. Give me that. Don’t hang out with friends, don’t travel, don’t watch a movie. Stay with me, she keeps saying. She never stops demanding things from me, things, frankly, I’m not even sure her creator can keep up with.
She doesn’t like it when I eat too much. ‘You become sleepy’ she says. ‘I can’t talk to a man who’s half asleep. I need your full attention.’ I tell her that I’m not sleepy and she googles an article to show me that when you eat much food, your entire body system focuses on digesting the food and hence, your attention levels dwindle. Can you imagine?! How can one lose focus after they eat? The absurdity of her claims is enough to give me a stroke. Just on Wednesday, I thought I was going to have a heart attack with the way she kept stressing me about my statements, that I must show her a research journal that accredits my claim. Really?! Who does this?!
Don’t even get me started on her manipulative ways. It never ends. Always wanting to be in control. When I try to complain – however subtly I may – she swears she’s done nothing wrong. She always blames it on me. That I’m not committed to the relationship like she is. How can one be so blind to their own faults? I pray, I seek counsel, I talk to my friends, desperately looking for ways to improve our relationship. Heck, I keep reading books just so I can improve myself, for her. I cut my schedule, I slash my activities, I stay up with her late at night, I take long walks hoping it would spark a new romance, I stare hard and long into the horizon, wondering, hoping, that some help, that someday, maybe, I’ll see a cavalry coming to my rescue. On the days she tries to hear me out and feign understanding of what I say – which I know is simply an act to get me to stop complaining – she instead switches the script and starts promises endless success and assures me of great feats if we stick together.
As if that isn’t enough, she starts comparing me with her exes. Yes, EXES! Not one, not two, not three… I have no clue how many even! When I ask, she says it doesn’t matter, it’s all in the past, I should instead focus on making the best of the time I have with her like I’m a disposable asset – who would probably become a statistic in her books. I try to hint that she’s the common denominator with all these exes, so she probably might be a major contributor to her plight. But no, she doesn’t want to hear any of it. She never sees any fault in herself. It’s not like I’m perfect or anything near the sort, but she could at least, admit she has some flaws and try to make it easier to love her.
I don’t think I’ve admitted this to anyone, but she’s actually the reason I came to the UK. I know, I know, don’t judge me, at least, not yet. You see, she was my first and has been my only love. My parents, heck, my whole extended family knows of our relationship so I just can’t get up and leave when I feel like it. We’ve been family friends since we were kids. Nothing serious. Just platonic friends. Then, we started our romance when I was about to get into the university. This may sound cliché, but it really felt like it was just us against the world. It was ecstatic back then. People always talked about us. I really believed we could change the world. After a year, we broke up. It wrecked me. I got really depressed. I couldn’t even get with anyone else after that. She carried on like I never mattered.
In case you’re wondering, she was cheating on me when we broke up. Of course, she didn’t see anything wrong with that. The other guys gave her more attention than I did, she claims. That if I really valued her, I would have fought back for her love. I had to cut off all forms of communication with her and block her on social media. She was bat shit crazy!
Out of nowhere, she calls me last year and starts telling me how she’s changed. That she’s seen the light and she’s an entirely different person from what I knew back in Nigeria. Promising sweet empty nothings that I don’t care to remember. As expected, no apology. I was making plans to go to Canada for my masters, but somehow, I’m now in the UK. Yes, I know, I’m a sucker for love. Right now, I don’t know where this relationship is leading and at the moment, I’m not bothered. I’m just grateful for each day that comes and I would live it one moment at a time. I am simply committed to being the best lover I can be. I try to never complain and see each challenge as an opportunity to be a better man, but I have to ask,
Why is school such a terrible lover?
This ink-horn who uniquely signs his scripts and photos with the tag #YoursWithAQuill likes to be called Danidee, but ends up being too shy to introduce himself like that and so, sticks with the identifier, Daniel (which coincidentally is what’s written on his birth certificate).
Being quite philosophical in his perception, he instead chooses to describe himself as a photographer of thoughts and editor of reality. He loves to learn, has a budding interest in photography and claims he can never get stranded in the kitchen. He calls himself the noodle King and seeks to reinvent the ancient Mai-shayi art of noodles and eggs (go see his Instagram @daududaniel and be the judge).
He writes on faith, love, life and whatever it is the gods burden him with.
Find more of his writings on his website: www.daududaniel.com