There probably isn’t a trustworthy person in the country who won’t say at some point that campus sucked. I mean I’m still in campus and trust you me I’m saying it kinda sucks big time. There’s the drama, the freedom, the same people, learning how to function as an individual and the monster of them all a chaotic dating scene. My opinions may be different from yours, but hey this is my column, not yours so let me pour all my jibber jabber down for you to criticize.
We know, we know. The pressure to date in campus is simply overwhelming and often all-consuming particularly for those who came here as adorable snow whites. The dawning of a new stage and the twilight fading to blackness, lit a fire in all our guts. Not just literally but metaphorically as well. The drabness of the day being burnt away. Downtown the neon lights shining from clubs and bars and no one cared who anyone really was, we sparked in ourselves the kinda fire that made us go nuts and wanted a second party to confirm that maybe we still had a little sanity even while we were so deeply lost trying to find ourselves, looking for the so called soul mates. In clubs, ladies in skimpy little dresses with makeup I can’t even quite describe. Cat eyes, smoky eyes, matte lipstick, bullrings and knee high heeled boots. The DJ hits the button and “kamatia chini” booms and all their heads disappear and let their a**es do their job. It might just be up to having a good time but oh well if you pick up a n***a in the club and he makes you feel some type of way… the one you let destroy you, devour you, pick you clean. Others pick them at discussions, the way he speaks just makes you feel like there’s a stampede of all the African desert animals in your stomach, or maybe the cliché butterflies. Maybe at random conferences or walks at the farm… no one knows.
And day by day you waste watching as he bleeds you, his knives slicing shallow cuts in your armor and you’d still blindly beg for more. You’d crawl to him on your knees and ask for new wounds, new injuries for you to endure not just for him but for you too. You’d let him burn you, scar you until your fingers, your face blurs and sweats down all your beauty into nothing and you’d keep on rebuilding it and pleading for more. He ruins you with every word that oozes out of his mouth and you crave for more like it was a congenital addiction that no remedy in the medical history can cure. You look at him ready to cry, to beat yourself up, all the time. Not out of pain nor need but because those very words rub that part of your soul that suffers and wants to be explored and craves occupation, appreciation and most of all transformation. You both burn on the edge of sorrowful beauty, your flames raging against the dying light. You want him to hold your hand, wish your skin warms against his but the mercy you need for the witchcraft that you find yourself in just to feel your heart skip a beat. Personally I wouldn’t want a heart attack, I mean with the way this is going. But you anyway build an inferno in homage to your love knowing only embers would remain even when everything else is gone. You go in circles and circles, the torture whirls your mind. No tornado has caused a greater destruction than this and to only think it’s the beginning… “Does he love me, does he love me not” becomes your daily portion. You’re certain about how you feel, you wish you’d be the “it” for him too.
He seems like he feels some type of way for you, but in a world where tissue engineering is no longer just for accident victims, but for anyone who has a need to camouflage, you take a pause and watch out for the horizons. You may think they’re peaceful antelopes grazing by the savannah because of how their soft brown hues blend with the backdrop just for them to emerge as freaking lions. It feels right to follow the beckoning of your heart and leave what feels insecure. You finally realize that you are addicted to the pain, that it is what feels familiar. Being used only when he needs to. It was never really your choice to be in the situation. You only did it because all your friends were in relationships and it created a want in you to have someone to love you. Anyone. You know you deserve better but you no longer remember how to be alone. It’s a scary prospect to walk away. Until you finally see what you did not want to see. That you were not exclusive, you were alone together. No matter how much time and love you poured into this, it wasn’t enough for him to make you his one and only. Then you begin your cat and mice games. You make an attempt to avoid him while he searches for you possibly to say he is “sorry.” You both know he is sorry for getting caught, maybe sorry for you thinking it was only you but not apologetic for breaking your heart. When you talk about it to your friends and everyone says he is a jerk and you deserve better you can’t help talking about the first day you met. That when you asked him to talk about himself, he declined and said all he wanted to do was hear more about you. How could you not fall in love with that?
You cry silently by the night, wear smiles that NEMA would probably have you arrested and fined 4million because they’re plastic, waiting for your heart to be returned to you. Your shattered heart and every damn piece of it counts. In your desperation, even a new one at this point will do. You need to recollect it and sit in the dark stitching it piece by piece to the a millionth.
Babe, you’ll pull through, we always do. Don’t be afraid to wear your golden scars as a badge of honor. I mean you were put through the hottest of fires and came out stronger! Just because you have scars doesn’t mean that other people won’t see the beauty that lies beneath them. You may have been foolish then, but you know better now and someone else could benefit from the tragedy that once was. Someone out here needs to know that they’re not the only ones that have gone through this or is going through this. Let’s empower one another.
(But hey not everyone had such bad first relationships. Some had a pretty amazing love life and some had none at all. People experience stuff differently. Don’t kill me haha)