Find Another

So apparently for some of us, the things we can’t say with our mouths we say with our hands and the other party responds. But for you, things you can’t say with your mouth, you say with tens of Instagram paragraphs and dedicated whatsapp statuses and I think I’m a bit fed up with the lack of communication between us. I’m fed up. I’m tired. And I’m gone.

Hey, babe.

I don’t think that name should stick anymore as you will soon be replaced by a young 19 year old, most especially from MKU or MMU; but most definitely not UON where you’re from or Zetech where your sister is from, or KU where my sister is. Anyway, Waithera baby. I feel the best way to break up with you is over a Manenoz blog post. I’ll tell you why of course, but meanwhile, let me introduce you, our lovely guest, to this sea of intellectuals and thrill seekers called Manenoz fans, and the reason why we stare at our screens for hours on end to keep written entertainment alive. Guys, this is Waithera. The sole reason I haven’t written for four months.

Baby, I am tired. Unlike the weak Nairobi men, I won’t say I need a break. Hapana. (No) I want you to leave my life the same way you came. I know you’ll argue and say that I am the one who found you while you were minding your own business doing whatever madness you do in your Electrical and Electronics Classes; designing vibrators and End Time devices and what-not. No, in fact, your good friend Gloria is the one who asked me to look at “the lady who has been staring at me all evening”. So, first move was yours.

I know I’m Messi when it comes to dribbling sweet nothings and striking goals when the deal is shooting shots, and that day I scored the hat-trick. Your name, your number and your heart. I just didn’t think you’d be going forward to meet Lewandoski, Jorginho, Kante and Mbappe along the way. Ah!

341 words in, I feel like I should just stop and try to work things out but this will be the sixth time we are doing this. Some people say, (Changerians can relate to this opening line) doing things over again, the same exact way, and expecting different results is a whole load of bullshit moves (paraphrased). And even most probably, your response – because you always have those- will be; “I’ll never find another. I’ll never know another.” Quoting Bensoul left, right and centre. I don’t care. I’m still into Sauti Sol like never before definitely coz of Chimano, but their lyrics won’t work on me. Not any more.

I won’t lie. I’m writing from a point of immense pain and earlier before this Kibao that I’m drowning, I was weeping like the Jesus of John 11:34. I accept pain. You know who else accepted that his content comes from immense pain and unfair relations: Kibe. Yes, Andrew Kibe. And I have joined his community.

I’m sure I’ll never find another one like you. And it kills me. There’s nothing that can match up to the void, emptiness and loss of purpose. I’m not only losing a lover; I’m losing a friend, a study buddie, a designated driver, an editor, a “person who helped my mom cook during family events”, a mum to my three cats, a reason to escape my boys, a movienight companion. The only human who cared what I ate, drunk and smoked. The only one who held me like I loved to be held. The one whose prayers really felt like they reached the heavens (leave alone those of my local pastor). The only one who knew what I wanted when I also didn’t know what I wanted. The smile. The love. The kisses. The night. And of course.

The boobs.

If I can recall well, my drinking was never an issue. Never was an issue when we started talking and meeting up in clubs and church and at home and this Klabu place that gave me diarrhoea. Never became an issue when we started dating and having furahidays at the Black Curves or K1 Klubhouse or De Javu or even the now infamous-ish Alchemist. Not even an issue when we all went to Vasha with kina (the likes of) Hazy, Sila and Driano, Tsuma, Aston and Jamoh, eh? Pato, Webster, Tony and Ricko, kina Chemu and Kuria and Mundez and Sanchoz. Wanjaria? Speaking of Vasha!!!Jude was driving. And I feel it wasn’t just his Subaru Outback that he drove that week. Apparently, he drove you crazy too!

Have I said I’m tired?

I am!

You’ll remember me!

I can bet you’ll never meet another like me. Nobody has, and out of all people, you wouldn’t be the first to.

*****

Breaks in a letter you wonder? Haha. Na bado.

***** 

This is for my heart and soul – Manenoz family.

You know how life has been for me, since I was a small boy. All the women. My virginity journey and how I got to this Waithera level. If not, click this word (Manenoz hyperlink) to start the jouney. So guys, remember Beth? She said she found another. Another who loved better. Another who held better. Who kissed better. Who fucked better. Who had better surprises. Better gifts. Better Netflix recommendations even though they’d eventually just watch 15 minutes of that before seggs. Anyway, I was the one hung up on stupid feelings. She was okay. She was fine. I was not. So Waithera it was was. And whatever you’ve read about rebounds is all true!

*****

Trust once broken can never be fixed – go argue with the Chinese.

*****

Between you and I, the last straw that broke the donkey’s back was the screenshot from Winnie. And I’m sure you are so mad about it. But if you really truly loved me, you should have known that “that’s what she said” is a phrase I really love to use. I love The Office. I have a goddamn painting of Dwight Schrute on my living room wall. But I know what made you jealous. The Instagram comment on my post. I’m getting to that. But I know that you have no Idea that I know about K-Man. Vincent Kimani. Where do I start?

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