This was going to be the most memorable year of my boyfriend’s life.**
The smile washed away from his face as far as it had appeared. Quickly replaced by a scowl that would make you think he was eating shit
“Too salty, as usual!” he barked.
I smiled…
I had finally learnt to smile. I had had his shirt ironed and laid out for him on the bed. Pin collared checkered shirt with lovely shades blue, his trouser hung on the hangar. I took extra time with time today, straightening every crevice, every wrinkle. It was the shirt I had bought him afterall, I wanted my man to look dashing in it and stand like he was 6 foot 7 with his head in the clouds.
He left the food halfway into it. Salty and distasteful he described it. “I would rather just have some thing from Mr. Biggs or whatever”. He stepped outside to pick up a shirt hanging on the line. “No love” I said. Your clothes are inside on the bed, I’ve already laid them out.
“Oh! okay” he said.
I followed him to the room to see the new shirt I had got and ironed for him. “This isn’t mine”he said. “I got it for you yesterday” I replied.
“So did a washman do the ironing”
“No I had it ironed and all” I replied.
“You might have as well used a washman and the shirt looks secondhandish”
I mentioned the expense Lagos boutique I got it from. It was one he had spoken about himself saying they had such nice but expensive stuff.
“well who knew they sell expensive fakes though”
FUCKING BASTARD!!!
REALLYYYYYY!! My soul caught fire. I could see my self running to kitchen, picking up the frying pan with hot ororo and giving this guy a proper catholic baptism.
Four fucking years with this bastard and year after year, sacrifice after sacrifice I was slipping into more and more disdain.
His tirade of complaint were endless.
My food is never good, my washing is never neat, my ironing is never smooth, the sex makes him cum too fast or too slow but its definitely never ever perfect. Even when I dress up for him, my make up is too much, my heels are too high, my dress is too tight. FUCK!!!
But no, you see Yemi. I love you, I love you with a dedication that knows no bounds, that’s why even when I was the second runner up for Miss Nigeria and men were flocking around me I stayed with you and your shit. Even when you had less than 50k in your account and I was the one paying your bills from the cash that was flowing in I stayed with you and your shit. Even when I had 2 senators begging me to open my legs for them, I didn’t, I just stayed….. with you… and with your shit.
And even now I’ll stay with you to finish what I started. I’ll show you that the greater the love, the greater the intensity of the hatred.
Yemi I’ve dedicated 4 years of my life to showing you all the love that’s in my heart. I’m going to dedicate this year to teaching you that hell has no fury more than a woman scorned my love. And I’ll dedicate this year of hate to you with all the passion in my heart.
So I smiled at him and said softly “I thought you would like it my love, I can return it or iron any of your other clothes for you”.
“What’s the point” he hissed as he put it on.
“You look good in it baby. I love you” I said. I kissed him softly as he stepped out of the door. Standing on the porch I could see a distance away, Sandra was standing on the other side of the road waiting for him to come pick her up. Fuck buddy, side chick, girlfriend number 2, whatever she was, they were fucking and I knew it cos Yemi wanted me to know.
I waved him good bye, I waved at her too, in case she could see me. You guys have no idea what you’ve got coming….
