Chronicles of A Heartbroken 20 Year Old

I never thought I'd be here. Again. Crying because of a man who isn't even thinking about me right now. He's probably in the messages of some other girl who exists somewhere in the ether. To me, she's a mythical being. I hope with every ounce of my being that she's the one truly meant for him, or that she's smarter than I was. I can't help it. As I sit in my room, the heavy rain and thunder matches the state of my soul. I feel like my heart is literally cracking into pieces. My finger hovers over our WhatsApp messages. Should I delete them? Should I not? My eyes are bloodshot  at this point. I could tear up due to allergies and they swell. I can only imagine what I look like. Sobbing into my pillow for hours. Wasted tears. Wasted effort. Wasted dreams. He is a perfect friend, but as a boyfriend... He's the most perfect example of a tragic mistake. Of Romeo and Julliet-esque level theatrics. Side note: I hate Shakespeare. And Romeo. And Julliet. There is nothing cute or romantic about either of them. They're dead because they're both stupid.

And here I am, a modern day Julliet. Sigh. Nairobi si mama ya mtu.

The relationships that hurt most are the ones that start unexpectedly. I never thought that in a billion years it would happen. School was the same. Let's be honest, uni is as horrible as high school, but slightly better. Like bad Ugali. You can tolerate it and it can be redeemed, somewhat, by whatever you're having it with. We met in class. One day. He just appeared. And we chatted. And we've been chatting ever since. Somewhere it developed into a crush on my side. This was the beginning of the end for me. Kinda. He was that guy in class. Incredibly intelligent and talented. And a good friend. I convinced myself that I was discovering what I liked in men. I ignored it, since we'd formed our friend group. You know... To make sure it doesn't get awkward. I'd remind myself that guys like him don't go for girls like me. Especially not in the long run. Until my friend Bella appeared. Don't get me wrong, I adore Bella. She's the most beautiful (physically and personality wise) and kindest person ever. And she was perfect. And he noticed it too. Because he'd have to be either blind or a liar if he didn't. I thought they'd have a thing. But it never panned out. Bella and I are captains of the same ship. Putting Bella aside (temporarily) I remember the day he told me he had feelings for me. My brain literally malfunctioned for a moment. It's one of those things that you can't wrap your brain around. And I told him mine and it was perfect. I wanted to hold on so much to that moment. That feeling. The softness of his lips, the smell of his cologne. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll forget that for a while.

And then, everything fell apart. Quickly.  Less than a week later, he disappeared. For 5 days. Everything was perfect. At least in my eyes. I'm like a bootleg Julliet. I texted him, not excessively. At most twice a day, for 5 days. I couldn't bear to look at the chat again after that. The shame I felt... I questioned whether I'd done too much. Been too interested. 'Men like the chase.' Here's the thing, no one did the chasing. We were just friends that developed feelings over time, and I thought that'd give some longevity. I don't even know whether to laugh or cry. Was he ignoring me? I was worried he'd get bored. And I mentioned this before. Semantics aside, I'm just boring. I sit in my house and find ways to entertain myself. And often times I'm unable to entertain others. And I'm okay in my little cubby hole. It's warm and safe. And he had slowly been getting me out of my comfort zone. Introducing me to his friends. Having me do spontaneous activities. And the relationship made me remember why I'd sunk into my little safe space. I get hurt and retreat. 'I'm looking for a change of pace. To just relax with someone I care about.' Ah... Bullshit. 

And he'd reappear and act like everything is okay. We were to meet in school on a Monday. I remember it clearly. And he cancelled half an hour after I got there. In that time, the bad bitch in me was throwing fits of displeasure in my mind. Was all this worth it? And I immediately knew what was wrong. He was terrified of commitment and he retreated also. So I decided to let him go. Because I'm a fucking martyr. I didn't even tell him I'd arrived, because I didn't want to make him feel guilty. I'd put in more effort than usual. But he doesn't know that. What is the point of it all?

And so when we met the next time, I told him he shouldn't be my boyfriend because he feels like he owed me anything after told me how he felt. The look of relief on his face? Now I wonder how much of a cement block around his ankle I'd been. 

I went back home and cried. Just like I'm crying now. None of it was worth it. I regretted everything. You know that feeling you get when you're with someone you care about? That floaty feeling? Like you're on clouds of cotton candy? This man lifted me up and dropped me back to earth faster than I could blink. And now as I nurse a broken heart, I can only blame myself.

Everything is back to its factory setting with us. We're still in the same friend group. We chat regularly. But there's this big gap between us that I feel like I'm tip toeing around. Maybe because he's too zen for life and I'm a ball of nerves. See... A bootleg version of Julliet. Ata River Road version is better. I'm a Julliet who's Romeo never showed. But anyway, we move regardless.