Warning: Reader discretion is advised – this is a 3-part story of one Emma Mwarogi
Click here for part one if you missed it
Ours was a whirlwind romance. We spend each moment together. We spent the rest of the summer at Greenwich Park. We strolled hand in hand licking ice-cream and gazing into each other’s eyes. The only time we were apart was when we went to our respective jobs. At some point, I took time off work because I was so overwhelmed with romance and love that working felt futile. All I needed was love, besides Mark had a better job than me and I had a feeling he was about to ask me to move in with him. I was in love with the most gorgeous man on earth. I trusted him implicitly.
However,one afternoon as I smoked outside One Canada Square, I saw him holding hands with a woman. I didn’t question him about it, instead, I upped my surveillance because then I knew there would be lots of bitches out there to get my man. He was gorgeous, young, white and rich – so, naturally, I had to keep an eye on him to protect him. I followed him a few times a week just to make sure no hoes were on his trail. It wasn’t easy because it meant missing several days of work and autumn was creeping in. But then again, it’s not every day a lady gets a man packaged like Mark – God-fearing, young, rich, gorgeous, generous and a great gentle lover. Of course, every single woman would be out to bag him, I was just doing what any red-blooded female would. More importantly, it’s not every day women like me get approached by men like him. I am not saying I am ugly or anything, but I’m not drop dead gorgeous or magazine ready, I have qualities only good men like Mark would see and appreciate. A God-fearing man of honour packaged like Mark does not exist – he was one of a kind. He saw me for me and loved me. I loved him back and we were meant to live together in this life and the next.
A few weeks later, strange things started happening. Like one day I followed him to work just to make sure no vampire bitches were on his trail. He saw me. I tried to hide but it was too late and he found me. He was really angry at me, I couldn’t understand. He spoke to me angrily and embarrassingly loud….. “You crazy bitch! Stop creeping me out and stay the fuck away from me!” I was really confused. I couldn’t understand why he was behaving that way……
That evening he came to my flat slightly inebriated and was very apologetic for his behaviour. He begged for my forgiveness and kissed me passionately on the lips for several minutes. He said it was stress from work and he knew I was only protecting him. I forgave him, of course, and we made love like we were the only people on earth. Afterwards, he told me I was the best sex he’d ever had. He said I made him want it more and more. We talked about the future and how he wanted us to retire somewhere in the coastal region of East Africa. It was magical. We slept in each other arms that night. The next morning, I jolly skipped all the to work. In the evening I would make him his favourite dinner.
I texted him and told him I’d be making him his favourite dinner – jollof rice with mixed meat stew and a green salad. He didn’t reply, nor did he come to my flat after work. I called him like 50 times, but he didn’t answer. Naturally, I assumed the worst. I called him several more times but each time the call went straight to voicemail. His battery may have died. He was probably stuck at work fixing those IT problems. I waited until midnight to eat: the food tasted like Thames water and was not enjoyable, I threw the rest of it the bin and went to bed feeling anxious and angry.
Just before my eyes became too heavy and the clock chimed 3 am, I texted him a good night message. WhatsApp indicated he’d been online a few minutes ago ‘last seen 3 minutes ago’, it said. I sprung back to life but ten minutes later when I checked his status again, it showed he was ‘last seen 4 minutes ago’, bizarrely my message was still showing 2 grey ticks. Furious, I decided to get out of bed and drink a lot of vodka as I contemplated my next move. It infuriates me when people go on WhatsApp to read some messages and not others… you know what I mean? It doesn’t make sense and it’s rude. My neighbour’s dog was doing my head in too, barking so much I couldn’t sleep. After half a bottle of vodka, I blacked out.
I woke up with a very dry throat and a major hangover – I felt like I had undergone some Frankenstein operation or something – everything hurt. Two seconds after waking up I thought of Mark. I checked his WhatsApp status and he was online. I was so happy but he hadn’t read my message, it was still grey ticked. And then like a zombie movie and right before my eyes 2 blue ticks appeared, and his status changed to ‘typing’. I got excited. I decided to run to the kitchen and make coffee and return to bed to read the message from my man. When I returned he was still ‘typing’. I worried a little bit, but that quickly turned into happiness because I thought he was typing so much to explain his silence and rudeness. Then without warning, he went offline – right before my eyes. No message came. What the hell was he ‘typing’? I was so angry my ears buzzed, and my forehead hurt. I called him immediately, this time the voicemail didn’t pick up – I got this annoying engaged tone that flatlined 5 seconds later: I was livid and threw the phone on the floor, hard…..
To be continued…
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