It was over. the relationship…my life. Kola stands before me, his eyes refusing to meet mine.
”no.no…no…no…no” I stammer. My vocabulary seems to have shrank to just one word.
My mind spins, trying to make sense of the current situation. No, this can’t be.
Kola, whom I have sworn, my life to, lived for, worshipped really, could not no definitely not be breaking up with me.
”Babe,relax. Sometimes these things just…don’t work out”. He’s shifting restlessly now, putting his hands in and out of the pockets of his jeans. The jeans that he’d wanted so badly, but couldn’t afford. The jeans that I’d bought, and had dug a ginormous hole into my savings.
He’s still talking, but I can’t hear him anymore. All I can think about is the countless hours I’ve spent, washing his underwear, cleaning his apartment, researching for his assignments. The numerous times he’d ”borrowed” money from me, and I’ve had to starve the entire semester. This same Kola that promised his undying love, and assured me that I’ll never find myself in this position. Kola, who’d made me tattoo his name in Chinese on my wrist as a birthday present. Kola, who’d managed to convince me that sex before marriage is fine, if had with with the right partner. He’d assured me that he was that partner and I’d fallen. Seven uears. Five abortions. One guy. And yet here I am.
My, mother’s words rush back to me.
”omo mi, are you sure about this Kola boy?”
My firm affirmative reply that day looks me in the face now, mocks me. I can feel myself going crazy.
I stand rooted to the cold concrete floor. I’m far gone, but his voice jolts me back to earth. Surely he can’t just have said
I charge at him.