By Christine Maina
I couldn’t believe the words that came from his mouth, “I don’t want to do this anymore. You are alright but I’m not feeling it…” What followed was awkward silence. I looked deep into his eyes hoping that someone would jump out of the bushes and yell; “you got ‘punked’!”
See, Rick and I have been going out for two months. Things were going great and for once in the many relationships I have had, I actually thought I was going to be in this for the long haul. Thank God for the offers from the network providers.
We would spend hours on end on phone at night and text the day through. Rick made it a ritual to take me out at least once a week. This was the best relationship ever!
Now, out of nowhere he had broken up with me. As I walked home from that disheartening occurrence, a feel of bitterness overcame me.
Not because I had just gone through a break-up, not that I was used to. I was hurt because I lived my life deprived of a father figure.
Mummy raised me by herself and yes, she did a wonderful job although there are still gaps, ones that can only be filled by a father.
Maybe if he were there I wouldn’t have gone through 12 heartbreaks. Or better yet, I would understand men better or appreciate where I went wrong.
At my age I would be seeing the person to make a decent woman out of me. Maybe I wouldn’t have lost all faith in love…had he been there.
