“Has he called yet?”
“No o!”
“Hmmm. Girl, what have you been up to?”
“Toni Braxton, another sad love song . . . Lauren Hill, ex-factor . . . John Legend, ordinary people . . .”
“Ah, the break-up playlist. Drama queen, did you forget Adele? But seriously, is that what you should be listening to?”
“I never imagined I would miss him so much . . . all those middle-of-the-night WhatsApp chats . . .”
“So, call him—”
“No way! He should call first.”
“Selective 21st-century woman. You can call him to ask him out, but you cannot call—”
“Whatever!”
“But I don’t understand, what really happened?”
“I don’t know again. I mean one minute we were having a romantic dinner . . . okay, we fought at dinner, but we made up . . .”
“Uh huh?”
“Then next thing on the way home he’s attacking me. So naturally, I got defensive—”
“About your sex life? But why?”
“I’m thirry-five, I’ve had . . . relationships, you know? Come to find out he’s still a virgin—”
“So?”
“So, obviously he’s been saving himself for another virgin or he’s gay.”
“He’s principled. Says something about his values and level of self-control—”
“And about mine? What are you saying?”
“You’re so sensitive, I’m not saying anything. Come to think of it, my husband and I were both virgins—”
“For real? I didn’t know that . . . You?”
“Yes o.”
“All those—”
“Nothing nothing. A few kisses, none below the neck.”
“You tried sha.”
“I have five big sisters. I heard the good the bad and the ugly and decided sex was worth waiting for.”
“Hmmm . . .”
“Yes o. And Hollywood and romance novels, deceiving people since time immemorial! I mean, they don’t show that you need to clean up after or that—”
“Hahaha! But I want someone experienced—”
“Why? My husband and I fumbled all the way to the finish line. Now we know the best ways to get there.”
“Doesn’t sound very romantic; hit and miss—”
“We weren’t that naïve—”
“Look look, there’s a difference between everybody bring what you have to the table and share knowledge, and A is for apple, B is for boy!”
“Hahaha! You’re so full of sh*t!”
“No, think about it. I’m experienced. When I start ‘guiding’ him, won’t he wonder how I know that much?”
“Or if he’s doing as well as the others before him. Hahaha!”
“Stop laughing, I’m serious!”
“See ehn, if you really like him, you guys have to talk about it.”
“So that he’ll shine torchlight on my sexual history? I don’t know joor. I’m just wrapping my mind around the age thing. The money thing still hanging, and then sex—”
“Total honesty, but not full disclosure yet . . .”
“Meaning?”
“That’s why people who want to get married go for counselling—”
“Abeg, I don’t have time.”
“You better make time. From what I’ve heard neither of you have the skills to cross minefields without blowing your limbs.”
“I don’t know. We haven’t reached that stage.”
“Okay when you get there, remember, love isn’t shawarma.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Love is hard work.”
“I wish he’d just call or WhatsApp already and apologize.”
“For?”
“For whatever! He said he would call me.”
“But you basically told him to go to hell—”
“I was pissed.”
“This is a good time to learn how to fight, you know?”
“Hmmm . . .”
“People argue, they say stuff, people hurt, pride gets in the way. Things get overblown. They part ways and later don’t remember what the fuss was about.”
“♫ ♬ Maybe we should take it slow . . . Take it slow oh oh ohh ♫ ♬”
“You want slow-coach back? Hahaha—”
“♫ ♬ We’re just ordinary people ♫ ♬ . . . do you want to karaoke?”
“To sing break-up playlist, no I don’t think so . . .”
“Please, please?”
“Girl, just call him and apologize. Be the bigger person and take it from there.”
©Timi Yeseibo 2016
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