My Fridays were never your kind of Fridays. My Fridays meant something else. I fancied the ‘TGIF’ locution every morning appearing all over but what fascinated me was how I’d get to see her that night. See, I’d turn up at her door by 10 in the night, sometimes; earlier. She would expect me. We texted twice or thrice throughout the entire journey, the first time would be an invitation, the second bit ‘nimetoka town’ and the last bit would be ‘am at your gate.’ Simple! This changed over time.
She always canceled her plans for the weekend because someone special would always show up. Someone, who’d figuratively fill her apartment with life and love, I was the charmed one.
Neat whiskey, delectable food, marijuana and poetry filled the night.
She loved when the moon was in its fullness. When the stars worshipped its majestic glory!
While the rest of the demography learnt the alphabet, we were deep into poetry and rhyme! I got addicted. I lost her through the addiction. She still is my addiction.
I dream. Last night, I saw her. Twice!
The story goes on…
What if she never liked a thing we did?
What if she was past my rhyme and deed?
What I meant nothing?
What if I LIED?
What this is all but a dream?
What if the moon casts its beams no more?
Along the journey, I’d write her poetry in my mind. Dance in the rain with her. Run through the boulevards, her hand deeply married into mine. I thought we’d last long. Longer than the Nile…my heart sent her postcards from its deepest corners but it’s too long a mile to reach her now.
On this particular day, I got to her drama rehearsals early. I carried fried chicken and chocolate. Igiza was the name of her theatre group. JKUAT comrades know well where these pundits ply their trade. She wore a black trench-coat, a purple blouse and white tights with purple finishes running through it. Her boots were black this time round. She was pleasing to look at. Everyone in the hall turned to the door where I was standing. My mind never saw their eyes. I knew who I wanted and she knew I was there for her. We met midway through the hall and tightly hugged as she escorted me to the back of the hall just to get to know how I was doing and I to know about her. Her eyes were radiant on seeing the little gifts I got her. She was famished! She cut a piece, put in her mouth then wrapped back what remained and then ran off to carry on with her rehearsal. Soon it was over. We couldn’t wait to get home!
This was euphoric.
Do I miss these times? Hell yeah, I’d trade my soul for her.
But as the script goes, I got nonchalant. I broke her heart severally, even though I was never a cheat. We never put our house in order and it fell! I’m hankering for the days when a thousand miles was a second away. When our hearts beat for each other!
I let her go!
She remains my addiction!