OF BEADS AND BEARDS

What is wrong with you?

Nothing

Nothing…? Are you kidding me right now?

Frankly hun, nothing’s wrong, it’s just that….

Yeah, I get it, It’s just that you are lost, trying to find yourself blah blah blah, to be honest, I don’t see why you ‘can’t find yourself’ without dumping me, am I pulling you back?

No, not at all, In fact my friends think that you actually pulling me forward, me too.

Then why can’t we be? Why do we have to have this conversation every time?

Hun please just ‘elewa’ (understand) me, we can still be friends.

Friends? Not really, my friends don’t do Kevin’s.

                                                 …..Awkward silence……

I didn’t or rather, I couldn’t bold up and listen to his persistent musings as he stroked his beard, his ugly sweaty beard, leave alone standing up and telling him what I really felt, how I just wanted to be on my own and possibly start afresh, and yes with a freshman, Kevin, but I couldn’t. It was not because Kevin was a first year and would seem wrong for a third year to date a freshman (like anybody cares) but because so much was wrong with me, he was right, I was drifting off, way off.

I was at peace though because I felt that my hands were tied, no, not with the squawky Boy Scout scarf that Kibet loved to tie my arm to the metal rail on his bed, at least his bottom half of the bed, these double Decker ninjas! My hands were tied by the fact that he was adorable, faithful as a dog, loving, fun and all. Nobody, not even Darth Vader (if you into those villains character movie things) would harm such an innocent looking moderately handsome chap with a face, not only her mother would love. So in the end I convinced my inner self to convince me, that if I could, I would, but since I can’t, I shan’t.

The truth is, nothing was wrong with him, but I wanted to break up with him, in fact I did and felt horrible thereafter but I believe that we all deserve to get what we want, no matter how many people we have to hurt on our way to our dreams no matter how vague they are. No? OK, my opinion and what do you know, you are still short.

Thus to this day I know not why it couldn’t work, was it his obsession with me? Was it his beard? ‘’That stupid beard’’ or was it my love for beads which he hated. But I am at peace, I miss him and I want him back but I am at peace, I know I don’t make much sense but am trying to believe that I do.

A man is only as ugly as his beard and as handsome as the beads he dons – Mahatma Gandhi and with this, I pass my message (offer) to my Kibet, if you are willing to lay off that beard for some African beads, then maybe, just maybe, I can butter your breakfast toast once more, and this time, maybe for good, since am much older now, I don’t get hit on that much this days. I guess that’s my sign that I might as well settle.

Think about it.

WRITER: Opted to remain unanimous.