The post you are about to read is much more than a post. It is a real occurence.Names have been changed for security and privacy reasons yet the emotions expressed here are as real as they come. Written from a shared experience and “acted” out by the writers, I present to you scene 1: “HerStory”
Written by @SlimSiren
The sun was burning hot.
People climbed up and down, looking at the crazy black girl sitting on the sunny side of stairs. “Wouldn’t you step into the shade, madam?” “Madam, would you like some sunscreen?” One even gave me a bottle of cold water. These oyingbo people sef. When did they stop minding their business?
Couldn’t they see? I needed it. I needed its warmth to seep through my skin, to pervade my cold, cold, being. I needed to roast, I needed my emotions to stew and run like boiling lava down my system. Would they flow like tears from my eyes? Perhaps it would help me wash my insecurities away.
Burn me, dammit!
All it did was prickle my skin like sharp, tiny pins. It didn’t matter. I welcomed the pain too.
Get rid of your insecurities. Get rid of your insecurities. Get rid of your…shut up! Fuck you!!
My insecurities are YOU, bastard!
Did I have insecurities before you came into my life? Did you see insecurities tattooed on my forehead when you perused my twitter avatar?
Mr Dizzle. Answer me. Did you smell insecurities when you mentioned me in that tweet, that tweet that made my heart dance and hair curl? “Perhaps, I should let one my followers know already. Miss @Ifeomatics, you are one hell of a dime and some!”
And those DMs. The proud feeling I got every time one of your thirsty followers questioned your ensuing absence from their timelines, because you were filling my own time with your colorful, panty-dropping lines. The half-a-dozen xoxo’s you sent every time I slept, for each hour you missed me.
Lol. I’m smiling. Damn you, Seye.
How I wish I could roll back to the time you asked for my blackberry pin, and erase that reply that held it. That pin punctured everything beautiful, everything sacred. You became too available, easily readable. I loved that I could talk to you 24/7, until I realized that you didn’t have 24 hours a day to share with me. I didn’t worry too much, was too happy you were there at all. Who wouldn’t want The Dizzle on their BBM list?
It didn’t take too long for me to notice eventually. I wish I never figured it out, I swear. All those BRB’s and never coming back. The different beauties on your display picture every other day. Why wouldn’t I get worried? They were each more beautiful than I was. I was jealous of every one of them, I wanted to rub charcoal on their wide toothed smiles and scream, get your filthy hands off my man!! I had to cinch the deal. When you mentioned us meeting and I jumped at it saying I was free that exact same period, you thought it was coincidence. Hmm. Coincidence indeed.
I wipe the moisture coursing down my face. What, My lava? Oh no. No, please don’t evaporate yet. I’m not out of steam. Please, be sweat.
My Dizzle. The Dizzle. What did I do to you? Where did I go wrong? We had fun at the movies, didn’t we? You laughed so much, tears ran from your eyes and salted the popcorn. I ate them, savoring the taste of you. You taste so beautiful, did you know? When we made love that night, I ran my tongue around your groin, drinking in every bit of you, the sweat, your sperm, my tears…
Did they all do that? Did they hold you while you slept, shivering and babbling incoherent residues from your haunting nightmares? I loved you, Dizzle. Yes. I. Loved. You. Why did you leave? Where did you go? All those read BBM pings and no replies, all those unanswered mentions. More beautiful display pictures. Less xoxo’s.
Until they disappeared all together.
It’s starting to get cold. I look at my wrist watch; its evening already. The cold bottle of water that guy with the mole gave me is still sitting next to me, untouched. I open it and take a swig, get up and dust my behind. Its late, but I’m not in a hurry to go home to Ngozi’s mocking eyes again. Yes, I dated a guy I met online. Yes, I’m in love with a guy I met on twitter barely three weeks ago. Yes, I’m stupid.
Stupidly in love.
I gather my back pack and books together, ready to go home. I don’t bother to check my phone, I know there are no missed calls. He blocked me from every social network- Facebook, Twitter, Yahoo, Blackberry Messenger…
Its not that easy though, Seye. I can’t let him go like that. I would write him a letter.
…So people, this is scene 1, I’m sure some can relate to this. Remember though, this was borne out of the pain one of ‘us’ felt…you may have advice for her or want to share your own experiences as I know she’s reading this.pls drop it in the comments box and also your opinions on @SlimSiren’s character portrayal… Scene 2 should be up tomorrow…