IN LOVE WITH A WRITER

People say the silliest things about why the fell in love with the people they fell in love with. I’ve heard of his voice, his smile, his ability to think on his feet, how he says my name, his dimples, his hair ha!(true story). Yes those plus a lot more others. I never fell in love before. Weird thing for a 25+ but its true. Hard to believe I know especially in this world where 13year olds are head over heels in love. ‘In love..’ what that meant; I had not the slightest clue then, but now, now I too sound as Dundee as the people I mentioned in the beginning. I fell in love with words- his words got through to me…

I fell in love with a writer. It all begun with a text message that was meant for another. It’s not easy to find in this country a man who texts properly. And by properly I mean words not foolishly misspell in the name of short hand and punctuation used right. The “c u Leia” and ‘how iz u’ text had made me give up on ever dating. I hate poor grammar. It’s a man’s grammar that tells me if he reads. If he likes reading, if he was serious in school, if he’ll understand me when I talk to him (I appreciate being listened to) it’s a man’s grammar that tells me his score on my check list. This one had it, he had it so good.

Goodevening lady?

Goodevening sir…

I hope its ok to text you. Is it?

Yes it is. I like how cautious you are. Please keep going and while at it mention how I know you.

Thank you. Its Sam.we met at the golf club last weekend.

Ooh… Sam. I think you got the girls number wrong.

Really? I am sorry. Aren’t you Diana?

Ok.This is getting weird. I actually am but I don’t golf and I certainly have never met a Sam.

………

The texting went on and on, courtesy after courtesy, lol after lol smiley after smiley and somehow I replaced the real Diana. I liked this man, he liked me too I felt it. A month of texting and not once did he call or ask to meet me. Patience is an art this man had mastered.I liked this man. Second week of February and he texts that he wouldn’t be golfing this weekend. Concerned I ask why and he says no reason..just don’t feel like. He is so in love with me that important things are beginning to lose meaning. I am happy..very very happy. No there is a word for that..I am ELATED.

Two days later I decide to call him. I practiced before and inhaled and exhaled several times. Then dialed Sam. He took quite a while to pick up.it made my heart beats go harder. I guess he too was inhaling and exhaling.

Hallo

Hey..

Heeey..

Glad you called.

Really?

Yes. Really. I’ve been waiting all this while.

Ha!… why? I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with it so I said when it will be ok. You’ll call and here we are.

Ok ok..i was wondering if we could do dinner today since you aren’t golfing.

Yes we can.

Great.

6:30?

6:30.

Having agreed on time. I picked the place. He laughed and said ‘great,that’s my place’. Interesting that we frequented the same restaurant. This was great.This was great because it felt right, because I had never been in love, because I’d never been on a date before, because I wanted to, because I always thought my first date would be with some guy I used to talk to as we waited for mama Mboga to cut our 10shilling Sukuma wiki bunches. I’d never been so happy.

Table 9. Only in movies have I seen a man look so good in a bowtie. He wasn’t very good looking but from our talks on phone his charm had me smitten. So I really dint care that he had an ordinary face. I walked up to the table and like a gentleman (the ones in movies) he stood up shook my hand and pulled my chair. It felt weird- the chair pulling but I liked it. No, I loved it.

I Ordered spaghetti and meat balls. I wasn’t hungry. I was nervous. So I ordered; just so I’d pretend to be having food in my mouth in case we ran out of what to talk about. I went for non-alcoholic wine and as I did I noticed him do a ‘smile of fortune’ obviously impressed that I wasn’t a drinker. He ordered the same and funny how fast our orders came. I had been here before and how they waiters worked today was different. We ate and talked and drunk and talked and talked and laughed. I was beginning to be myself.

I noticed there were few people in the restaurant. Time had gone by without my notice. It was 10;00pm. I was worried. I couldn’t get what he was saying anymore. I knew I had to leave. I mentioned leaving and he quickly offered to drop me. I smiled and offered to split the cheque. He laughed and it irritated me a little. What did he think? That I couldn’t manage? Then he said we don’t pay. I was lost. I paid anyway.

I got home safe. I didn’t sleep a wink. I wanted time to go slow. Days later I pick up the daily newspaper and notice an interesting article on women and simplicity, the writers name is familiar. Hes a writer. I didn’t know. I google him and I am left impressed and dumbfounded. Not just a columnist. He owns the restaurant we had dinner at. No wonder we were not to pay.

A thousand dates later and we had grown so into each other. We were so in love our hearts beat in rhythm with each other. Sometimes when we were out eating, he’d give me a look and I could tell what he wanted. I could tell his “I am bored” look, his “let’s go home” look, his “I want to cuddle” look and his ”I can’t get enough of your eyes” look. I knew his thoughts and he knew mine. Walking hand in hand many a times he asked jokingly if I were a demigod for I knew what he thought and even finished his sentences sometimes.

I was happy, I was glowing, I was in love with words…I was in love with a writer. In my opinion,being in Love isn’t a bad thing.

*****END*****

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