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How to handle ladies who call you 'swiry' in two weeks

My Man

Speed in a relationship is one of the most overlooked things, which invariably lands people in a dangerous ditch. Often, we are overwhelmed by lust, love, good sex, loneliness, stupidity, and a cocktail of other emotions; we end up making silly decisions.

A few years ago, I mustered courage and approached a woman who had been on my radar for more than a year. The tall, bespectacled lass was an intelligent soul, had a body I would kill for. For the longest time, I thought she was a snob. Then one day, I asked her out for coffee, she accepted. We did coffee. She was good company despite my earlier misgivings that she was incurably snooty.

Barely, a week later, I had tickets to a popular live show at a five-star hotel and I asked her to accompany me. She was game. I had not yet disclosed my intentions, lest I annoy her. The show was accompanied by a five-course dinner, a comedy show and some traditional dancing to boot. She was thoroughly thrilled and boy, did I have the most wonderful evening of my time?

On our way back, now a little numbed by the wine, she was playful, touchy-feely and made it clear, she was all mine, I could do anything I pleased with her. I couldn’t believe my luck. In less than two weeks, she had gone from being another snob girl around the block, to being the freest, most available girl in my world. Granted, we were both single and madly suitable for each other, it had moved a little faster than I anticipated.

In those first three weeks, I remember driving through Ngong’ Road with her, seeing some good furniture on display. She intimated something like, “Sweetie, those are really nice for our house...”

I was sufficiently alarmed. That word ‘OUR’ had a quick, resonant ring to it that caught me off-guard. I mumbled something, that sounded like ‘ok’ but my mind was working on an exit strategy already. I was being trapped. How I had suddenly become sweetie, and how an overnight visit had suddenly granted her co-ownership to my apartment intrigued me. But I learnt a lesson.

A relationship can move faster than we can contain it. One party is carefully nudging the brake pedal and the other is busy gassing the car up. Sometimes it is the man, pressed towards marriage or lustfully lumbering for towards quick sex. Sometimes it is the woman who wants the relationship to move quickly.

So you meet and within a week, you have slept together. She is calling you all the sweet nothings by day three. She is calling your sister by day ten. And she is familiar with all your friends by day 11. However much you try to slow things down, she is always one step ahead. You leave her behind on one of those long weekends and when you come back, she has bought some cutlery and even had the audacity to replace your curtains - which surely makes her your wife, you should pay the damn cows already.

I don’t know how women feel when a man is moving faster than their expectations. Men feel trapped, suffocated and anger seethes from within. Sometimes, the lady is just too good to send away or we aren’t confident enough to break her bubble. Sooner or later, we reach the breaking point and can erupt in fury, revealing an ugly side, which reminds the woman, assumption is the mother of all screw-ups in the world. Some women must learn to slow down the pace of the relationship.

@nyanchwani

[email protected]

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