No more running

I know I keep running, and running is just like falling. You fall, you get up, and keep moving. (If you fall and stay fallen, that is a mega sin.) So, I'm back and I'll try and stay. No more running.

I detest him

The first time, I met him at the entrance of the hospital where I work. He was in the company of a friend's boyfriend, and they were on their way to see my friend who had just had a baby. We said hi, and I accompanied them to the ward to see the new baby.

It was lunch time, and I had to go back to work. I said bye, and off I went.

The second time, I met him at the train station on my way to work. We took the same train, chatted about everything and nothing. I got off and he continued.

The third time I met him in a wedding I was organizing. In the evening when all my duties were over, I joined the party. A drunken guy chokozad me and before I could sort the drunkard verbally, he came t my rescue and we danced shortly before I excused myself and left.

The fourth time I met him at my friend’s baby christening. I was photographing the event. After church we all went to the reception, more photos, more drinks, and more dancing.

The fifth time I met him at a party in my neighborhood. We briefly talked and I went on networking with other people.

The sixth time my brother and I went to watch Arsenal in Highbury, and while queuing to get in, I saw him behind us.

The seventh time we met in a conference, and I for a moment I thought he was stalking me. We sat next to each other throughout the session. In the evening he offered me a lift home. I invited him back in for coffee, and we ended up having dinner. I had given him no thought before this, but, suddenly I noticed his eyes, his smile and his wicked sense of humor.

A week later we had a date. We went to the pictures, and then Pizza Hut. We saw each other regularly after that. I learnt a lot from him, and I began to appreciate having a man in my life, again. By the end of the 2nd month, we were hopelessly in love.

After going out for about 4 months, his flat was put up on sale and the landlord gave him notice to leave. At the same time, his working visa was running out in 2 months and he had to go back home. There was no need of renting a place then leaving a few weeks later, and the human in me invited him to come and stay in my place for the remaining few weeks. We talked about it, and agreed he'd go home, and then look for a place when he got back, or we'd look for a big place for all of us (I know what you're thinking now).

It was so exciting to live with a man, again. It came with all the added extras, playing football with my son, late night drinks in the house, movies, eating out, and picnics and long drives on weekends, not to mention the unconditional attention, he gave me all the attention. (I love attention). He had all the qualities I need in a man.

I took a few days off work as we shopped and sought for an air ticket. This went on for a few days, and then one of the days he was meant to go out, I just wanted to stay at home, with him. Just the two of us. After all he'd be gone for 3 months or longer. I was entitled to this one day. So I got on the internet, searched for air tickets. After about 30 minutes, I got one with BA that cost far much cheaper than any we had seen. We decided to buy it online. It cost £430.00

We tried with his debit card, but the card was rejected. He suggested we just go out and pay by cash, which he had already, but I just wanted to lazy in the house with him. By the end of the day, I bought the ticket using my credit card, with the hope that I’d get the money back in cash, and pay off the debt. I never got it back.

A week later, I took him to the airport. I said bye.

Before he checked in, I reminded him of the money. We went to the cash point, but there was a problem, and he suggested he'd send me the money when he got home. I never doubted. I knew he had money at home. He'd be in Kenya for 15 weeks. I marked the return date on my calendars. I missed him every single day.

He had left his things in my house, inclusive of very important documents. A week after he arrived in Kenya, in one of our daily conversations, he requested I send some of the documents. I never questioned.

He received his documents, 3 days later, his phone went off. There were no phone calls or text from him and no emails either. When I tried calling, kept going mteja. I got so concerned after a week of trying that I had to involve my friend and relative to look for him. I thought he was in trouble. My cousin finally found him after three days. After this we spoke for about 2 more weeks, and this time, the phone went unavailable.

There was no doubt he was avoiding me. He needed time, and I granted him. I even emailed him to say I’d not try contact him till further notice. I did not try calling him for the next 2 months, until the week he was meant to come back. I emailed him. He did not open the email for quite a while.

The return day came and went, no him. I thought of a thousand and one things like this , but I couldn't think of the perfect action. Months came and went, and still no phone call, no him, no money (Oh yes, I started thinking of the money he owed me). I thought of what I’d do when he turned up my doorstep to pick up the rest of his staff, (I thought like Petesmama on her comment), but nothing would have worked.

2 yrs went by. I had even forgotten him completely, but his stuffs were still in my house, somewhere in the storage. Then a friend went to Kenya, and upon returning told me he had seen this guy with his new wife, and that he was planning to go to Italy for some business. Just thinking of him again hurt like mad.

I sat down and wrote a real big email (not a very polite one, but neither abusive). Before I could change my mind, I quickly clicked ‘send’. And I forgot about it.

Then one afternoon, I was in one of them. I was too tired to ride on the buses and trains, and thought, I’ll clear my storage. (Yes, you guessed right), I put all the stuff in black bags, then called my local charity shop and asked them to pick the bags up.

That night, (coincidently) I got an email, as long as can be. He was apologizing for the way he had treated me, and if I gave him my account number, he'd deposit the money. I didn't respond. It was time to move on.

Then one Sunday after church, (about a year after the email) he knocked on my door. I opened, and then shut the door on his face. Why was my son not using potty, I’d have used the content on his face like Petesmama.

When I finally opened the door a few seconds later, I was feeling like Samson in the bible, he was a Philistine that I had to destroy.

'What do you want?'

'Can we talk?'.

I looked at him for seconds, and all sorts of revenge came to mind before the mature me showed up.

I welcomed him in my kitchen and I sent my son to the neighbors. He didn't have to witness anything. After a cuppa, I told him we had nothing to talk about, and his stuffs were at the British Red Cross charity shop on the high street.

And I sent him away. That was almost 3 weeks ago.

I've thought of this over and over. Why I didn’t do this, and that. I think of Mr Maua, but he's taking so long and due to financial crisis, there's no sign of seeing him soon. Keisha keeps reminding me of the weakness in me. Is it the weakness or is this unfinished business needing closure. I detest him and I’ve no idea how to get rid of him from m mind.