Have you watched Aziz Ansari’s skit on modern day dating or read all the articles on Thought Catalog about the same? If you have, then maybe you’re single and can relate to most of what is being said. If not, you’ve probably met someone and you don’t see what all the fuss is about.
Let me just put it out there, being single these days, while trying to find someone genuine, is the real struggle.
You notice her friend first – the life of the party. All attention is centered on her and what seems to be the most thrilling story ever told. You can see from her eyes that she’s all ears. A sharp pause is brought to the narration as Wizkid’s Ojuelegba starts to play over the speakers and all three burst into screams of excitement.
She jumps from her seat, her body lost in the rhythm of the music like the red priestess in a ritualistic trance. Her hands directing an invisible orchestra only she has audience to. The soft laughter from her lips adding another dimension to what is a perfectly set out tune.
There’s some poetry in the way she dances. Movements without a care in the world like fireflies drifting in the night wind. She paints the waves of the music beats on an unseen canvas with the swish of her hair as she sings along to the lyrics of the song – an ode to Dionysus.
Your palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. (No vomit on your sweater cause you went out with the boys for nyama choma so you could have a strong base for the night ahead.) You’re nervous but on the surface you look calm and ready to drop a line, yet you keep on forgetting what to say first without sounding like a prick *nice guy problems*…
Snap back to reality and you pick up the courage to approach her and say hi.
*Yes, I had to add that at the end because I was listening to it while writing this part of the draft. Sue me ( *
Some farewells can be sighted from miles away. You feel them in the little things. She is there but she isn’t. Like misery to company, insecurities creeps in through the back door of the glass house you call a heart.
One of the biggest problems with our generation is we’ve grown too scared of “hurting” other people that we rarely say what we want to say. Most of the time, we do more damage than would have been done had we gone full out and spoken our minds and hearts.
It’s been two weeks now since the first time you saw her. The first week was heaven. Not in the literal sense but it did feel like heaven. You texted each other day and night while spewing childhood tales held dearest to each other’s memories. Your biggest battle at the time seemed whether to change your relationship status on Facebook or probably add a witty update on Whatsapp to let the world know you had met the one.
Two weeks in and it felt like you knew everything about each other. She’d spent the last weekend at your place doing a marathon of all the Star Wars movies before you settled in to watch the Force Awakens.
Things started to feel odd once you went the whole nine yards and had sex. Or rather, made love. It’s like your boss felt the renewed energy and decided it was the best time for you to start on the new project. You were suddenly too busy to send that good morning text since you were in a rush to get to the office in a bid to meet the set deadline. There were no more voice notes at the end of the day from her talking about her day.
It would be like that for a few weeks before you began wondering whether you knew her at all. To try and get over the doubts and uncertainty you call the boys and decide to paint the town red like you used to do before you ditched them for “love of your life”.
It’s all going well till she walks in with another guy.
Closure is a word that only seems to come up during a game of scrabble or when you’re back to drafting sad poems and having Drake’s Marvin’s Room on replay. You’ve deleted her number by now and told all your friends how broken hearted you are. The internet tells you that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.
You go out and start the cycle all over again. You were single anyways. A few shots in and you build more certainty in your resolve.
There are no goodbyes. You unfollow her on Twitter and Instagram, unfriend her on Facebook and add salt to injury by blocking her on Whatsapp.
Lately, Aziz Mola reminds me of the one hit by Gotye, he is someone that we used to know (in the writing world.) This guest post might be an indication that he is ready to come back, but until we are certain of that- read more of his stuff on www.azizmola.com