Up and Doing

A letter to my first love

Dear J,

We haven't spoken in several months, not by any fault of yours. You've tried to keep in touch and I've tried to stay away. I succeeded more than you, obviously. I really don't know what to say to you but I'll try. I don't remember our first conversation, It was about 4 years ago. But I remember how we would chat through the night on 2go. I faintly remember you asking me to be your girlfriend, my naïve excitement and me waiting till the next evening to say yes. In my naïvete, that was the best way to play hard to get. I remember you. I remember how full my heart was. I remember our declarations of love. I remember the promises we would never keep. I remember how it all went downhill.

I think I really did love you like I said I did. I was innocent, young and stupid. I was also eager to rush into the arms of Cupid. I mean, the dude didn't even need an arrow. I was quite foolish. We were quite foolish. I mean, we promised each other marriage and I was 15! We even had plans about children, names and all. As embarrassing as this is to write, It must be written. I actually thought our love would last forever or that we would at least get married like we planned. I remember all the air kisses through phone calls. Alright, not all and not even a lot of them. A few, I guess. Sorry, my memories of you are quite hazy these days but one thing I clearly remember is that our 2go love was real. I even knew your ex girlfriend. She was so slim, light skinned and pretty and I was a bit jealous. I mean what did I have that made you choose me? Back then, I wasn't as pretty as her and that's what boys of your age were probably after. I got to like her a little, I mean she was your friend and I had to try for you because I loved you, right?

Do you remember that story you told me about a movie you watched? You told me about a guy who fell in love with two girls, This guy was in love with Isabel and then he met Becky and fell in love with her as well. Then the guy was in a relationship with both of them and he did not know who to pick. Immediately you started the story, I got a sinking feeling in my chest and my instincts told me you were lying. That it wasn't a movie, it was real and I was Becky... with the good hair. I was so scared that it was true and I was Becky with the good hair.

I was like: "Instincts, you're lying!"

"D, I'm telling you the truth!"

"NO! It's not true! J loves me! Instincts! Tell me it's not true!"

"I'm so sorry D", Instincts looked away with despair in his eyes. "I hate to be the bringer of bad news but.." Instincts couldn't continue with the #StoriesThatTouch

"Oh instincts!" Dami sobs hysterically...

Dude, of all the names to pick, why Becky? I mean, there was Pearl or even Hepatitah!! I confronted you and you confirmed my fears, I was actually Becky. I was so calm about it. I admire how calm I was. I didn't even cry. I wonder why. And then I gave you an ultimatum: Her or Me.

You picked me and I wish you hadn't because I broke your heart not long after or at least I think I did.

Fast forward to a few months later, we started to drift apart. You were very busy with some stuff I don't remember and it started to affect us. We began to talk less and drift more and I started getting bored. I missed you of course but I realized I did not love you anymore. I remember that at least twice you asked me to send you airtime and I did, I remember being disturbed about it. I remember my bestie not being in support of my relationship with you despite our being on the same page about almost everything else. I remember that sometimes our conversations were hollow and empty with no depth. How could a love like that last? Sometimes I was uncomfortable with somethings you said but I said nothing because I loved you and love is about sacrifice, I mean we were going to get married and have kids. We never fought, never argued or had fall outs. We were always happy with each other. What a fairy tale. I mean how unreal could life get. I remember the only time we met during our relationship. It was at the church I attended at that time. Our meeting was very brief, like 5 minutes but I can't wrap my mind about the fact that you expected me to kiss you there and then, in the open. I was so embarrassed plus I was at church! Of course I disagreed!! As I watched you walk away, a chord stroke deep within me and I thought there had to be more to this love thing.

As cliché as this may sound, I never meant to hurt you. I just got bored, I think, and staying in love was harder than falling in it. Since we only met once before we broke up and once after, I can't say I missed your smile or the way you lifted one brow or any other physical features. I barely recognize you on Facebook the last time I saw your picture! The way we held on wasn't life and I'm glad it's over.

I wish you all the good things in life,

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What's Up?

life 4:00 pm

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A turning point

memoirs 5:32 pm

A sick African proverb or was it just a mind-set? says that a man who cries should be called a woman"'. How about a boy who cries?

Miss J never liked me. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe it was because I wasn't the neatest student in her JSS 1 class. She was my class teacher. I was 10. I just wanted to play in my spare time. It isn't my fault that my shirt, socks and shoes decided to gather dust along the way. Anyway, this isn't really about my dirty laundry, it's about what they might have done to me. While my older brother was in secondary school, he went by the nickname, Da Don. Everyone, and I mean everyone called him Da Don. Teachers, juniors, friends, haters, everyone. Even his school notes were christened Da Don. I loved it. And I wanted to be just like him. I also had a friend nicknamed Springfire. I couldn't think of a cooler nickname and so I came up with DE DON. I know what you're thinking. So original and creative and classy and stuff. Anyway, I stuck with it. My school was a day school, if you're wondering.

I was in the Press and Debate society right from JSS 1. (Let's call it the P and B society for the sake of Damimyne's poor fingers). Around the time relevant to this story, there was a big competition coming up. I was screened and chosen as one of the students to represent my school in the junior category of the competition. Unfortunately for me, Miss J was also in the P and B society. It was like she was in every aspect of my school life. We were trained by 3 teachers most of the time, Miss J, Miss P and Springfire's mum. Occasionally, the Vice Principal trained us. I missed 3 classes every school day from 2pm till closing for training. I must admit that I was quite naïve because I never actually realized how big of a deal this competition was.

The competition started. Basically, it consisted of several schools in Lagos State meeting up to watch a few students from 2 or more schools tear each other apart with carefully constructed sentences regarding a particular topic. Beautiful, isn't it? The first meet was at St. Finbars College. I don't really remember much of the competition but I can tell you it was like whirlwind with me right at the centre oblivious of everything around me. I was taken to different schools in air conditioned buses, met all sorts of people and always came back with fabulous gifts like giant ball pens! I became a celebrity in my school because I was always seen leaving the school grounds with the Principal and other important school officials. And let’s not forget the fabulous gifts! I gave a lot of them out to classmates. For some reason, I always found it crucial to pray and fast before any major thing I did. The day of my debate came and I slayed dragons. No, really. I was like "Off with your head!" It was truly bloody. Ah! The stuff of legends. I remember my topic was "civilization has done more harm than good" and I was arguing against the tide of civilization's haters. I had fun along the wordy journey. And I won.

I still didn't get that it was a big deal. I mean, why did my dad have to come for a prize presentation ceremony? Why did he keep congratulating me over and over? I also didn't get why everyone was talking about me winning a lame competition. Okay, maybe I seem a bit daft here. You're probably thinking that the vigorous training should have clued me in amongst other things. Forgive my 10 year old self. The said ceremony took place in the Gymnasium hall at the National Stadium. The crowd was massive and a lot of schools were in attendance. It was my time to shine, only I didn't know I was a star. Finally, I was called up in front of the crème de la crème of the education sector, a representative of the Lagos state Governor and the Commissioner of police, Lagos state. I was presented with a plaque with the words "Best student in Lagos State 2009, Junior Category" inscribed on it. It was so shiny and 'awardy'. I was asked to give a speech that was aired on TV. I also received a lot of gifts and blah! I wasn't warded a scholarship even though everyone thought I was.

About two weeks after the big day, there I was, an ignorant celebrity living a normal life unaware of his status. My class teacher, Miss J walked into class and decided to do a note check. We were asked to stand and place our notes on our desks. We stood and she checked. When she got to me, she asked everyone except me and an offender to sit. The offender was standing behind her. She questioned me about my nickname DE DON. I tried telling her the story behind it but the offender behind her started to dance. Of course I laughed but she started to flog me all over. I quickly sobered up. Then she looked up the meaning of the word "Don" in the dictionary and read it in front of the whole class. I always thought dons were just rich guys. Thank you Telemundo! And people wonder why I hate that stuff. Miss J then proceeded to paint a fake picture of me to class and even to me. She went on to break my heart by calling me proud and arrogant. Fine, I always had this air of aloofness about me but proud and arrogant? I didn't even know I had anything to be proud about. She was mean, spiteful and hateful and I didn't know why. My dirty socks, perhaps?

What Miss J said created a big hole in my heart and I didn't even notice. I cried hard. My classmates tried to comfort me but it was too late. I didn't know what suicide was back then. I would have tried it if I did. If she had stopped there, it wouldn't have been so bad but she took this story and spread it in staffrooms. Suddenly, I was transformed from the guy all the teachers liked to the guy to the guy all the teachers hated. As new teachers were employed, they were updated on my gist and the baton was passed. It was relay hate at its finest. The only teacher that didn't join the bad gang was Miss P. These teachers even tried to turn the vice principal against me but she had more sense. Do you know the most annoying thing about all of it? These teachers who were supposed to be trained professionals did not realize that I was just a boy. I was once a sanguine, would you believe that? I'm now phlegmatic. I began to hate everything that had to do with the competition. I didn't take part in any other ones because I was scared of being seen. I was scared of being popular again. Even when she was no longer my class teacher, miss J would still come to my class to make fun of me. I left that school after JSS 3 but my teachers passed the "love" to my brother.

Miss J died last year. When my brother told me, I laughed hard. When I realized he was serious, I laughed harder. She died of liver problems. I think it is ironic seeing as she had the liver to do all those terrible things to me. I tried being sad but I got angry because I only remembered all she did to me. I never found out why she did all things those either. I just had to live with it. I got over the torment about four years after my turning point when I gave my life to Christ but I'm still not sure if I've actually forgiven her because try as I might, I can't feel bad about her death.

As narrated by DE DON

Written by DamiMyne

IMAGES downloaded from Google Images

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A Letter to the one who lied

complicated 4:00 pm

Dear T,

Today I saw you and spoke to you after... Well.. About two weeks? But it feels longer than that, doesn't it? We haven't spoken in all that time except one evening when we briefly saw each other. My phone got bad and I haven't fixed it yet because I want a new one (long story) and also because I used the money for something else. I honestly have missed you, I'll admit. I'll also admit that I've been thinking about you. Thoughts of you have been haunting me actually. I even had a weird dream about you which says a lot because I hardly have dreams and rarely remember when I do. In my dream, you stabbed me ( I wrote this line with a smile on my face). So imagine how I felt when after all this, I saw you when I wasn't even wishing to. Sigh. There were times I wished to see you, I would intentionally pass by your hostel just so I could 'bump' into you. Not having a phone meant I couldn't talk to you except I saw you. I thought you were worried about me. I thought you'd wonder if I had died or something. But you weren't.

When we first met, I gave you the benefit of the doubt, I believed everything you said because I felt I could trust you. I found out the hard way not to take you at your word. At first, it wasn't about feelings for you. You just wanted to be physical.. I just wanted the thrill only a bad boy could give. I did get it for a while but I hated the hold you seemed to have over me. A few words right words made me putty in your hands. However, I knew it was wrong. I'm a Christian and that means I can't just go with the flow. It means I should run away from any appearance of evil, sin, immorality, 'fun'. I knew that, yet I didn't listen to the warnings of HS about how I was playing with fire. I was like a moth drawn to flame... I've digressed. HS is my best friend. He just knows.

I know it seemed like I 'played' hard to get but I didn't. I'm just very busy with a lot of things I'd rather not talk about in this letter. Anyway, before today, I didn't know what to believe. Did you really care as much as you say you did? Then why didn't you want to see me in the daytime? Why did you only want to meet me at night? You once told me I was beautiful, did you mean only at night? I know I sound naïve and silly and all the things that annoy you but I don't care. This isn't really about you even if it is. I never asked you to talk to me that day on IG. I was just being myself and liking the pictures of a random cute guy. I actually thought you were someone else, a student in my faculty. I only realized later that you weren't and that I'd seen you once in school (If I ever talk to you again, I'll tell you about it). I never asked you to send me your WhatsApp number. That should have been the first warning bell. If you really wanted to talk to me, you should have asked for mine. You should have called me, in fact. Call me old fashioned but I believe that if a man is serious about a woman, he goes out of his way to show it. WhatsApp is too convenient. I never even asked you to keep coming back after every rebuff I threw your way. Your persistence endeared you to me. It was cute.

For some reason, you always felt like I had an ulterior motive. I should have been the one to think that, you were the one who came after me. You said you saw something. You said you really liked me and nothing I did would change that. You said so many things but you were lying. You lied. You are not a man of your words. I realized that today. It's ironic how bound I feel to a person after saying 'yes', yet you would promise me one thing and give another. Today, after I realized you were in the garden I wanted to run, tail tucked and all but my friend refused. She's a good friend, she made me face the fear of speaking to you. I had to mentally prepare myself for 30 minutes or more (maybe I should write a book on delay tactics). Hilariously enough, HS told me to go talk to you! I mean, since when did he encourage me to talk to men I could be romantically involved with?? As if that wasn't enough, Perry, a periwinkle or whatever he was, gave me the same advice ( don't even ask). He's probably dead now since I left him on dry land. I was so nervous.. Sigh. Immediately I stopped in front of you, the butterflies in my tummy stopped. I was a bit disappointed today, you finally gave up. Your defensive statements made me realize how much of a fool I've been these past few weeks. A big one.

I'm glad I talked to you today, I felt so light afterwards even if we're no longer friends or whatever we were. It reminds me of when I told you about my faith and love for God. Do you remember? You told me I was crazy. You don't talk much, yet you sent me about 17 or 18 messages that night. I never read them, I couldn't. I was scared of what your words would do to me but at the same time I felt so liberated, I could finally be myself. I thought we were never talking to each other again but you said hi almost a week after. I know you never understood me and that's okay. Maybe I do have trust issues after all. Sometimes, I wondered what you really wanted from me. Love? Companionship? Or home? I wondered if you wanted an actual relationship or an official side chick. I wondered if you meant any of the things you said... If you actually did catch feelings. It doesn't matter anymore. We're done. Today might have been closure for you but this letter is closure for me.

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A Letter to the one who lied

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