Letters to my Unborn Child

This is a story about how I met your father. Precarious love story, swinging on drama in one hell of an amusement park. This is story that proves that nothing can stand in the way of true love. When two people are destined to be together there are no tidal waves that can wash them away, no forces in this world that could tear them apart. There is a powerful gravitational force between them that cannot be defied. It’s a law, fate that cannot be eluded. The harder you try to run away from fate, the faster you reach it. You cannot cheat fate.

I had come out of a strenuous four year relationship, which had emotionally exhausted me and possibly damaged my soul. I was a little bird with a broken wing, making futile efforts to take off and soar. I honestly thought I could not move on. I walked around hiding under the mask self-confidence. Pause. A smoke screen, pretence and deceit. I went through the motions, smile when I am supposed to, say the right things and a dry small cackle that was supposed to be a laugh. I was damaged.
It didn’t take long to find myself in glass of Pina colada, wine, tequila, vodka, my irresistible female attributes and most of all my bitch ass friends. Yes, I found myself surrounded by wildlings who loved to party. I was a retired party freak, or to say, a resurrected party freak. Oh yes I partied hard. I partied so hard that the VIP bouncers at ALL clubs knew me by my name (I mean I would fist bump those studs at the entrance). I changed my twitter handle to @rangingbarbie, a renowned sexual liberal, with a foul mouth and chaotic imbalanced hormones. I did one hell of a job of shocking the sexually repressed Zimbweans who are typically off springs of a conservative culture. Obviously I was stereotyped as a hure (whore) @ragingbarbie was an abomination for glorifying anal sex and blow jobs. I rev
elled in it, as I watched the natives squirm in disgust. If anybody actually paid close attention, I never preached promiscuity, inaudibly even a hint of moral abandon.(refer to my blog “Raging Barbie Series 1”) I was basically a freak with mad sex skills who was trying to get my fellow natives out of their shells.
I was never in a relationship, I was scared shitless and mainly because I was hoping that things would work out with my ex. He heard of my extra-curricular activities, and all the gospels that featured my scandalous-dressing-red-lipstick-six-inch-stiletto shenanigans. It was a hopeless feat. I was a goddess who enjoyed being chased but never got caught. By Zeus I was a flirt, seduction bid…I enjoyed the attention from male prospectors and enjoyed dropping them like a bag of hot potatoes. I was a subtle version of Jezebel. I toyed around with men, watched them eat from my palm, and be left wanting with their genitals in their hands. I was such a tease (refer to my blog ‘Power of the P’) After a year of masquerading like headless chicken across the city, I got tired. Bored to be precise. I suffered from monotony. I started to distance myself from my friends, buried myself in work and of course enjoyed throwing people off with reckless abandon as @ragingbarbie.
It was by God and by one WhatsApp message that changed all things. It was the inauguration of a new pope and I waited with the rest of the world, for the new pope to come out (am an ex-catholic). I remember when the smoke came out from the cathedral indicating that the pope was chosen, I threw a remark about how the priests where getting high on weed. Sprawled on the couch the message came in, “hey there” Boredom extreme was what ignited this conversation. This was a man who saw me at some party and stole my number from his friend’s phone. I admired the focus really, that’s what caught my attention. He introduced himself as Kay, we chatted till dawn. Literally. It was like we had known each other for a lifetime. We continued communicating, we chatted about everything, politics, religion, history, entertainment. Everything. We decided to meet, I had to first drop off my mum at the airport, she was leaving for Nigeria then we meet in town. The flight was delayed by two hours. By the time I left the airport it was 10pm. So we postponed.
Are you on twitter? This was the most dreaded question. I had thought about it, me being raging barbie would blow off this amazing guy. I liked this human being, I had to be honest so i gave him my handle and explained the whole raging Barbie persona and criteria. He took it all in with a casual “I know you already and I can differentiate between you and this Barbie character” He was the essence of a perfect gentleman, the epitome of chivalry and the author of adorable. So we organised to meet at some bar in the city, we were both excited that we talked about it all day. Just as I was knocking off from work so I could meet him, I received a disheartening message from his FIANCE “excuse me madam, can you please stop talking to my fiancé Kay. You are causing confusion, we are about to be married and am pregnant with his child. Cancel your meeting with him tonight and stay away from my man” I called him immediately and I was like your fiancé is not comfortable with me meeting you tonight so let’s drop this cause I am in an awkward space, it could have been nice giving me heads up that u are ENGAGED. (Another d bag trying to worm his way to me *sigh*)
He called me back, and he hit me with the some blunt honesty. Look here, yes am in a relationship and am ending it now because I want you. We haven’t met, we have been chatting for 3 weeks and to be honest, they have been the best 3weeks ever, so please come let’s meet and I will explain. We met for the first time and it was surreal. We ridiculously stared at each other before bursting in laughter and indulging in long ass hug. That evening was perfect, everything felt right, hell we even forgot to address the fiancé issue. After a couple of drinks we left the bar and I was supposed to drop him off at the kombi terminus. I parked my parent’s car by the terminus as we said our last goodbyes. In my mind I was screaming kiss me dammit! Kiss me already! By Zeus he was hesitating and it seemed like he was about to leave the car without kissing me. Too late I grabbed his head and savoured his lips, which was met by equal passion. What happened next was beyond my control. I found myself driving off to a dark corner, parked there and went into a flamed make-out session. The chemistry was too strong!

Somehow we managed to salvage of what was left of our composure and regained it. In deafening silence I dropped him off by the terminus and I drove home with my eyes glazed in a daze. I got home, and a message came in, thanx for kidnapping me, please do it again.

3 Replies to “Letters to my Unborn Child”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s