July isn't a good time to break up

This cold season has reminded me of the good old days when I still had the opportunity to be called Pumpkin, Chocolate, Sunshine and the rest. You know during such seasons, you try your best not to differ with your significant other, especially if you already live together.

This weather can make you apologise for a wrong you did not even commit in the first place. When I was dating and July came around, I would send my boyfriend a romantic text in the morning and he would fail to reply it the whole day.

When we met in the evening, I would be the first to apologise for sending him a text on a busy day when he was not in a position to reply.

So one time, my then fiancé and I who had moved in together had a heated argument on a cold Saturday morning. Because of the little pride in me, I refused to be the one to apologise.

By afternoon, we were still not talking to each other so I decided to threaten to leave with all my belongings just to see his reaction. I was hoping he would beg me to stay because of the cold but it looked like he had plans to buy a heater that evening.

It was drizzling outside and so he reminded me to carry an umbrella on my way out. I thought he was joking until I saw him pull up his thick second hand socks and disappear inside the duvet on the sofa as he flipped channels on the television from Nat Geo to Tujuane as if he was already looking for my replacement.

On the other hand, I knew very well I was not ready to leave, at least not in that weather. July is the worst time to break up.

I would rather hold on until the weather behaves; but because I still wasn’t ready to be the one to apologise, I packed my bags and stepped out reluctantly, making sure I banged the door behind me to remind him I was leaving.

Once I was outside, I paused and waited to see if he would follow me but waaapi! After standing in the cold for ten minutes, I pretended I had forgot something in the house and walked back in straight to the bedroom, stood there for two minutes then as I walked past him in the living room, I shouted, “Nanii, ninaenda!” and waited for his response.

Again, without looking at me, he sank deeper into the duvet and shouted back “Usisahau kubeba umbrella, kunanyesha nje”. I wanted to walk straight to him at the speed of 80kmph and engage his cheek using that umbrella but I thought of my life in prison and held my horses.

I walked out and this time imagining he was peeping through the window, I struggled with my bags as I swung my hips towards the gate ensuring the bags were not covering my rear end. I wanted him to see what he was losing.

 I did not even care about the drizzling anymore and I let the rain wash my tears away as I neared the gate with no signs of him running after me.

I swear believing in these Mexican soaps can make your man slip out of your hands just like that! Yaani vile Diego used to run in heavy rain coupled with thunderstorms just to get to Paloma, my Kenyan man was not even peeping through the window to see if this African beauty was really walking away in the rain.

I hated the fact that I was walking away in vain, I wanted to swallow my pride and go back but my throat was too narrow to allow the pride to slip in. I looked like those Nigerian women who had been kicked out by their mother-in-law from their husband’s homes and the husband just looked as they walked away crying.

I was so engulfed in my own thoughts that I did not notice the gateman walk towards me and try to help me carry my bags. I pushed him away without looking at him and that marked the beginning of my marathon in our neighbourhood.

Simba, the guard dog immediately swung into action and started running after me. I threw my bags in the air and since I was still thinking of the Mexican soaps, I started running towards my man’s house shouting “Diegoooo, Diegoooo!” He rushed out and ran towards me shouting “Where is Diego?”