We’ve all heard the phrase ‘Hell hath the fury of a woman scorned’ but have you really ever seen that hell come to life? Well, I have; with myself.
What would you do if your ex asked you to come to his wedding? My first guess is maybe you’d throw a bitch fit. I mean, how dare he ask you to give up a perfectly good Saturday – where you’d be catching up on your favourite series as you do your nails – to go watch the once man of your dreams getting hitched to someone else? I mean, it’s crazy, right?
We met at a restaurant. It was not one of those ‘we spotted each other from across the room and it was love at first sight.’ Ours was quite a different scene.
Walking up to the counter of my favourite coffee joint with the cash ready in my hand ready to get my every Friday order of blueberry cheesecake, I notice that the tray was empty. Trying not to scream in anguish since the last slice was gone, the lady at the counter even pointed to the guy who bought the last piece and without even letting her finish, I was already frantically racing towards him.
“Excuse me, hey. I don’t think you realize my immense love for the last slice of cake that you just purchased. I’m even prepared to give you double the amount for it.”
“Umm, hey. Normally strangers start by introducing themselves. My name is Jay.”
At that moment, I even somehow managed to forget about the crazy cake cravings I had and decided to take in the magnificence that was this man.
He was the ultimate man candy. Just my right kind of tall, immaculately dressed with the wind carrying a hint of his woody-scented cologne my way. I tried to bring myself back to reality but it was so damn hard with his amazing corner smile almost blinding me.
“I’m so sorry. I’m Carol. Now about you stealing my last slice of cake?”
“I don’t think I stole it seeing as I even have a receipt,” he said obviously confused as he showed me the tiny piece of paper.
I noticed that this was a game I couldn’t win so I decided to apologise and started walking back to the restaurant in defeat. I’d just get my latte and go home. That’s if he hadn’t already bought it all already. Rolling my eyes at the thought, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was him again.
“Here,” he said handing me his receipt. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience caused, let me make it up to you.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, very puzzled as to why he was giving me a receipt.
“I wrote my number on the back. Let me know when I can buy you make to make up for today.” He said smiling as he walked away.
The cake date we had was just the start of our three-year relationship.
Jay saw me through a lot of rough patches, I had even gone through a depression phase and he helped me get out of it. I had family issues left right and center, I had just lost my job and my medical bills were piling up due to my recurring ulcers, but he stuck through it all. He was there when the pain got so bad he insisted I squeeze his hand till the pain went away. And I loved him for that. For not leaving me, until when he actually left me.
3 years into knowing him and even getting to meet his parents, he packed up and left without stating any reason why. Words really couldn’t explain how torn apart I was. I mean, I freaking met his parents! I was ready to become this guy’s gashungwa for the rest of my life and he just leaves? How dare he? I, however, managed to get back up. I had fallen into a worse state of depression this time round but after intense therapy, I came to terms and let him go, or so I thought.
6 months down the line during one of those lazy days at the office, I decided to scroll through my Facebook feed. A couple of scrolls down and guess what I see? For starters, I needed to un-friend him (I wonder why I hadn’t done that when he left) and most shocking of all was a ring on a girl’s finger. And the girl happened to be my good friend. And this good friend now happened to be my ex’s fiancée.
6 months down the line the bastard had decided to move on with my so called friend, who even came to knock me out of my depression and we were planning to get married in a month’s time! I tried to keep it together, I really did. But emotions were boiling out of me and coming out as steam like in the Tom and Jerry cartoons. Rage, betrayal, jealousy… you name it. My world was crashing once more, spiralling down even worse than when he left me. And just when I thought my world had ended, I get an inbox message. From him.
Him: Hey, wassup. You’ve really been quiet but I hope you’ve been ok. Could we meet up for coffee tomorrow after 5, I really need to talk to you 🙂
He even had the audacity to send a smiley face at the end?
I could feel the therapy I had done seeping through my skin but once again, I managed to keep my ying and yang together and decided to meet him. Maybe he wanted forgiveness. Or he wanted me to get closure. Or maybe he just wanted to rub it in my face. Either way, I had resolved to see him just to get it over with.
The next day we met at the restaurant where we first met. And sat in the same spot where we sat on our first date. Memories came flooding back in and a slow sad smile couldn’t help be draw itself across my face, then he walked in. He somehow managed to look ok for someone who had dumped me. Ah, who am I kidding? He had always been my handsome African god and time hadn’t changed that.
We started catching up on the events of our lives and every inch of me kept itching for him to finally blurt out that he was going to get married soon and just as I thought he would start asking for forgiveness and closure; with his ever so gorgeous smile he held my arms in a loving embrace and asked me, “Will you be in my wedding committee?”