![Sorry](https://www.mbabaziafrica.com/assets/2018/03/wp-1520703787700_hud3a72efb2d1c61b9f6df35edadc304a8_15607_600x0_resize_q75_box.jpg)
Sorry
Maybe it’s out of guilty conscience that I’m writing this, or perhaps it’s something else. I don’t know. What I know is, I barely beat around the bush when something messes my mind. I find a solution and go straight to it. Should it be someone, it’s good that the person knows that I’ve/we’ve got a problem. So I’ll go straight to something that has been disturbing me a while ago.
Since opened up and said how I felt about you, things between us have changed, for worse. Yes, I mean so. (I do have my view of a female grown up. There’s the lady (I know you hate this word); this is visible, all that I see from a grown woman, and then there’s the girl; the fragile female soul). I decided to confirm something with the girly you. I did tell you I love you. I probably couldn’t have been any genuine than that at the moment.
I’m afraid of relationships. No, I’m scared of how partners can be in a relationship. There’s nothing wrong at all with a relationship. I believe I can rock one. So I’ve avoided any leads to it since the last one. I’ve dedicated myself to build an empire, mine. That’s personal & I’ll spare you the details. But then the universe has a way of twisting things.
Nothing is static. You came into my life and became a friend, a terrific friend, and I’ve liked you as a friend. You know the ‘friend-zone’ cliché? I avoided the word “friend” for that reason, for what the definition it bares lately between man and woman. I’ve also heard you say you’d indeed be crashed if someone, a potential mate, called you a friend. Bullshit, if I’m to marry, I’ll marry my friend.
I’ve had a significant number of ladies friend me for the apparent reason. I’ve seen ladies walk into my room, do fascinating stuff you’d imagine, and I’ve had a way of putting them off. We men say that the very lady a guy doesn’t like much happens to be the one very lush/fertile, & by lush we mean, jackpot on the first intimate session. I believe so with reliable references. I can’t imagine trapped my whole life. Enough of that; but then just something about you always wanted me close to you. So I decided to get it off by telling you I wasn’t up for a relationship if that was what you were looking for. GLADLY, I never got the overreaction that I had expected.
Remember that day, in your room… Lol. I still laugh at that. I remember that that was for once I ran out of words because of a woman, to the extent of texting someone I’m looking at. Damn, that was embarrassing. You played cool, and that was a bonus point.
I did shut that door after that. Moments passed, good times, interesting talks/chats. I’ve seen you being kind to me more than I expected. To even linking me to business. Who are you a woman? What woman does that? The kind that lingers my virtual world. That’s the answer.
Some things you’ve done for me will seem obvious, but surely you should know they meant a lot to me.
Then poetry was born. I was there this baby being born. Tell me I’m wrong by saying I’ve got a significant influence on your poetry. I’ve seen you use words no one else has used rather than me to you. I’ve read them all, the poems, random writings. I did tell you once that I’ll read them all, in one of the comments. I almost did miss once, but then came my roommate and I quote “Boss, umecheki poem yenye dame yako ameandika? Wawawa!” You know how guys exaggerate. I put a smile on my face and read it. I liked it. & that was when I was set to overdrive.
I did text you, told you I had something I had to say to you. I said it. “I’ve got mad feelings for you, and I want you.”
Boom! And the bomb was set off. Jesus Christ! What was I thinking? I had to get over what was in my head. (I only have a rough idea of what happens in an atomic reactor but what I’m sure of is, the naked eye should not see it happen.) Assume the nuclear reactor is my rib cage. You are a wise lady; I shouldn’t go into the details.
“I don’t know what to say,” you replied. And then came, “I don’t think I can do this.” Well, okay. I had to convince just a little to make sure you meant it. I was okay with the response. But just to be sure, why not tell you to your face. I’d like to see you react to it.
My grandpa told me, “Tell her even though you already know the answer.” & “Even if she will say no, she still will want to hear it.” Lucky for me I come from a line of sagacious men. I did it, he was right!!! No problem. Some other shit happened, my internet subscription was disconnected. I had some work pending, so I thought I’d see you over the case and also finish up and submit my work after you got back to your crib. And I wanted a taste of the peanuts. I made some calls, told myself to avoid making the excuse of work. I thought you who wouldn’t make a big fuss about it. Well, fuck! I was wrong. “Why won’t you pick my call? Have you ever been ignored?” I asked myself then. I don’t wish ill for other people, but that shit is terrible. It did change a lot I thought of you.
“This is my friend, why would I get ignored? Don’t tell me it’s because of telling someone I loved her and wasn’t up to it,” I kept telling myself. I got way attached it think.
I had missed you I remember, and guys were heading home, I just hoped also to see you before then. I’m quite foggy on the details but then… I was hurt. Sounds stupid, but yes I was. I mean, I can’t force you to love me, then what the hell?! Only God knows how I hate ambiguity, being ignored and people not being straight-forward.
So I thought maybe I should say sorry. What’s even there to say sorry? An overreaction? Did I hurt you? Would you please talk? Remember me saying it felt like having killed someone? There you went. You replied! “I killed the inner you.” How? Why I’m I leading you to tell me what you should say. Well and that was that. I chose to stay quiet. Sit on the quicksand before worse was worst and wait for rescue. I keep my words.
So we haven’t talked since then. A few days later. I fell sick. Holy crap! Did liking someone make me sick? No that was unlike me. I took some painkillers; that went away for a day and was well for a while. My friend fell ill, went to the hospital and happened to have dengue fever. Just in its early stages. I did rush to the hospital late night too and requested a check. I was fine. I was handed some meds for the “just in case.” Even after having taken them, I couldn’t get out of the following morning. I remember clinging to my roommate, dragging my legs to the hospital again and I was diagnosed with severe malaria. Probably it’s how doctors should work, but I received the attention I’ve never seen. And it happened that I had to be admitted. Five ass days! First ever in my life. You have nothing to do with this apart from that was the last time I did text you, apart from yesterday requesting the banks account number.
I paused reading your articles. I’m guessing they’d have messed my head if I did. I love God, then my peace. I know all your ways of communicating (to me). I never thought it would get this “toxic” between you and me. Yes, none of your messages has passed me since, unless well, the poetry and any other latter writing. I’ll read them by the way. I will. Keep writing.
I noticed you liked my statuses on Facebook lately, to them that I wouldn’t have thought were to be liked by someone like you. Thank you, by the way. I presume this is you saying we are cool, or just a continuation of the drama, I don’t know what to expect from you anymore; not hoping either. No more disappointments.
The year’s ending and I’m apologizing immensely straight to anyone I wronged. & it’s not easy so you should know. For whatever that is, I am sorry. I would hope for a friend I had met before, but I’m not sure I’ll get that. I’ll be glad to actually. Very.
Something you can’t hide, you like me. I miss you as you probably do miss me. I just know. (it’s okay denying). Also I’d like to know exactly why we don’t talk any more.
Ps. I haven’t been into creative writing so, yeah, we all start from somewhere. Insomnia is good & writing is relieving. You know how I feel now. .
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