DIARY OF A RANDY SOUL: Aftermath Of A Break-Up (Part II)

DIARY OF A RANDY SOUL: Aftermath Of A Break-Up (Part II)

So Lara left. She had to tell me her name again. I can’t sincerely say I use to know her name; I may and may not remember the name. From that time, I definitely wouldn’t forget it. And of course, I’m not forgetting the day in a hurry.

Less than an hour she left, she called back. The bridge leading to her house was flooded. She, according to her, had two choices; either to stay at my place or lodge in an hotel. She gave me the chance to pick which I’d prefer. The good-boy-me wanted her do whatever she wanted. The randy me wanted her to come.

I asked her to come, if she’d feel okay to stay the night with me. She asked me what I’d like to eat that night so she could get things from the market on her way back to my place. I was both shocked and confused. She wasn’t going to make my food and sincerely, it felt awkward to hear. I told her I don’t eat at night and that I had foodstuffs if she needed to cook. She chose to cook.

By she wasn’t going to make my food, I mean, I wasn’t going to eat a food she made. Every man has set(s) of belief(s); right? If we get down together, I’m not eating your food; I lived that way. I have no time for unnecessary commitments.

She knocked after an hour or so. Time was about 8pm. Her look said alot. For whatever reason, she was all smiles and maybe happy to be back. I’m no one’s boyfriend; having her around wasn’t an issue.

She came in with vegetables and all. She made Semovita that she escorted down her throat with a very tempting egusi and vegetable soup. She was at it when she received a call.

Her countenance changed. Her eyes began to well-up with tears. I initially pretended to be busy with my phone, but I couldn’t ignore the obvious hurt in her voice. I gave a look that asked if everything was alright.

She dropped the call almost immediately, washed her hands and came to me. I was rested in a slightly-tilted chair. She dropped her entire body on me, her face to my chest, sobbing. I couldn’t help but console her. I was at it, trying to get her out of the mood for about an hour. I didn’t bother to ask her what the issue was, it’d lead to more tears. I was certain she’d tell me what happened whenever she could, even if it wasn’t that night.

Somehow, I noticed she began to ‘play’ around my chest with her right hand; she was curled up on me in the chair. Subtly, her other hand found its way to freedom from her body. She held my head with both her hands suddenly, stared deep into my eyes and began to suck my lips.

I was caught between stopping her and letting her continue. I didn’t even know what to do for, and to her. I was motionless. She stopped and gave me a look that asked if I was naive and didn’t know she wanted me cuddling her already. I smiled and pulled her closer gently.

Her phone kept ringing. She had to see who it was. But that was after she had ‘sat-on-the-nail’ the cowboy way. This night is promising to be good; I remember thinking to myself.


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