In the office, at 11 am I got a call from an unknown number. Though unsure of who it could be I was inquisitive to find out. I picked up the call and got a wind of who it was by the soothing baritone voice that greeted me.
Michael: Hello!
Instead of pleasure and joy at hearing from an old friend. I felt something else something I felt was buried and done with. It was pain and hurt. I hesitated in responding and contemplated on whether or not to end the call.
Micheal: Mawa! Are you there?
I was all the more sure he was the one- only he calls me that. I feigned not knowing who it was (he hated that, all the more reason to go on) and responded as jolly as I could summon.
Hello! Please who is this?
How dare he bring back memories that are long forgotten. Why are there still good memories flooding in? I wish they were all bad.
He tried introducing himself and was so patient as I made it a little uncomfortable for him.
After some pleasantries, he asked so politely that I meet him up to have a conversation over coffee.
My therapist did mention that closure helps one heal more swiftly so I wanted to hear what he had to say. I agreed.
Moving into a new place was hectic though it has a new feel to it as one gets to meet new people and make new friends. I looked forward to that. Not to mention the freedom that comes with staying on your own.
Making friends came easy, and the neighbours were lovely. These new friends of mine came about from my morning jogging. I greeted these two friends and it was smooth sailing from there. Two days after meeting I was invited by my friends for a night out and there was where I met Micheal. He was so hunky and you could feel how gentle and kind he was from the way he spoke. Let me not get started on the way my heart flutters at the sound of his voice. We loved one thing in common asides from many other things which is taking dark coffee with a dash of lemon.
A guy who knows his onions. He dresses so exquisitely and his cologne is dreamy. After that day, the days that followed were beautiful as we hit it off so quickly like we’ve known each other for centuries.
We had coffee and a light breakfast every morning and went for evening walks where we spoke at length and laughed hysterically. We never ran out on what to say. Every new day for that week was more beautiful than the previous one. It's no news that I fell head over heels for him and he knew it. Our days of beauty had to come to an end as he got an impromptu call for a business contract which entailed him travelling out for some weeks.
I wasn't spooked cus I knew the feelings were mutual. A few hours after his flight I called and his phone rang till the last beep but no response. Throughout the day I expected he will return the call but to no avail. I was worried sick as every call was returned neither were messagesreflid. After a week or two I tried calling using a friend's phone and he picked up. On hearing my voice he hung up, it was then I knew I was being ghosted. Call me crazy but that cut more than when I was worried for his wellbeing. I became a shadow of myself and it took a long period of therapy and a build-up of self-love to recover from that.
What just kept ringing in my head after work was; Why is he calling now after almost a year? And to top it up at our favourite coffee spot. I wanted to know though had to wait till the morning as we agreed.
I got to the coffee shop on time, five minutes earlier and as he has always done he was 10mins earlier. At seeing me he beamed a broad smile and stood up to get my seat for me, the gentleman I knew. Though pleased he was alive, I didn't feel as jolly.
He complimented how good I looked, stating that I looked more vibrant and lively.
Micheal: Mawa I am very sorry I ghosted out on you I wasn't in my right senses at the time and the other ladies I dated were mistakes.
I wanted to know for sure whether what we shared was unique.
Although I had a whole lot to say.
I sipped my cup of coffee and gently placed it down then I smiled and said ‘Thank you’. Adding nothing more, I picked up my bag and made for the door.
The closure was worth it as I knew for sure now that I was dealing with a sick guy.
This was written in response to Cinnamon Coffee Prompt here.
~Whitney Alexander; a lover of God, life and knowledge; a fashion designer, a part-time foodie, a resplendent tutor and a blogger/writer/storyteller in the hive family and loving every bit of it. Thanks for stopping by. Your comments and inputs are very much welcomed. xoxo~