The only woman who stressed me from day one was Amanda but she was the one I loved so much. I proposed to her in June. It was her birthday. In front of her door, after we had returned from a date, I told her how much I’d loved her from a distance and how ready I was to take her in my heart and make her my queen.
She smiled and did “Awwwn, that’s very sweet to hear on my birthday. Thank you very much.”
Of course, that wasn’t what I was expecting to hear so I pressed her buttons and pushed her to the limit to say something to me. She said, “All along, I’d known you as a friend and nothing more. As a friend, you’re a good person but I don’t know beyond that so give me some time to know you better.”
Every woman I’d proposed to asked for some time to do something. “Give me some time to think about it.” Give me some time to put behind the issues of my ex.” Give me some time to put my life together.” It’s normal for a lady to ask for some time so I gave it to her. I thanked her for the night and drove away.
The only problem when a lady asks you to give her some time is how much time they are talking about. Time is measured in seconds. Seconds to minutes to hours to days to weeks to months and to years. So when a lady asks you to give her some time, you don’t really know how much time they want. You only have to trust and obey until they come out to tell you what is in their heart.
One early morning she called. “Kennedy, do you know your blood group?” I answered, “Yes I do.” I told her and she asked if I had a document to prove it. I said no but it shouldn’t be difficult to prove it. She told me, “That’s great. I need proof within this week.”
I supplied her the proof and that day when I was looking at her, I saw the future of her response. A woman who doesn’t like you wouldn’t need the information about your blood group. What for? After showing it to her to confirm, I asked her, “So what next?” She answered, “I’m still looking at you as a friend. Give me some time.”
One Saturday evening she called me. It was about a different question. “Ken, what church do you attend?” I told her about my church. She said, “Eiii really? That’s good but can you visit my church tomorrow? Maybe someday I will visit your church too.”
The next morning I was in her church, sitting next to her as we sang from the same hymn book. She wanted to hear me sing but I didn’t know a lot of the hymns so all I had to do was mime along.
A lady who doesn’t like you won’t talk about the future with you. Amanda talked about the future with me so I was hopeful. The response was taking so long than expected so one day I asked her, “You still haven’t said anything to me and it’s been three months already.”
She answered, “If you’re in a hurry, that’s ok. It’s a no for me. we can’t date but if you can give me some time then things might change.”
I stopped talking about the proposal but stayed very close so she would know me for who I was. We went on a date often. I visited her church often. If she was confused about something and she asked me about it, I answered. One day she visited my church. She didn’t tell me she would be there ooo. She woke up on Sunday morning, dressed up and went to my church. I didn’t go to church that day.
She called after service and said, “I didn’t see you in church today.” I answered, “But you didn’t tell me to come to your church? I went to my own church.” She answered, “I’m talking about your own church. You didn’t come.” I answered, “I went. How did you know I didn’t go?” She answered, “Because I’m here talking to you from your church premises. Anyway, I enjoyed the service today. You have a great pastor.”
She cut the call and didn’t pick up my calls for days all because I’d lied to her. I went to her place to apologize. She flatly told me, “I hate lies, especially those who would use God’s name to lie. Why did you tell me you were in church when actually you didn’t go?” I had no explanation. I begged her to forgive me and she eventually did.
Six months after I’d provided evidence to every claim, she accepted my proposal. Ladies, when you ask for some time, kindly make it known how much time you want. It hurts to not know and still hear “Give me some time.” Sometimes it feels like you’re being strung along.
So our love story began. Amanda is the kind of woman you see as a wife and not a girlfriend. She takes over your life and makes it her own. Before she said yes to me, she asked me, “Ken, are you sure I’m the one you want? I’m very intense when it comes to love. I’m like the leech on your skin unless I don’t love you.”
So when the relationship started and she was all over me, I wasn’t surprised. She once told me, “If I’m suffocating you, kindly tell me. I will give you some space. That’s how I love the man I love.”
I didn’t have any issue with that. She was all I had and if someone is all you have, you want them to be in your space, no matter how long they choose to stay.
I couldn’t get Amanda to come to my room. She said she was avoiding temptation. “Our love is young. Young love attracts temptations. Let’s avoid it.”
So we talked about sex. She wanted to know my position and I told her, “Yes, it’s part of the relationship. I’m not putting it off until marriage. Is that what you want? No sex until marriage?” She responded, “I will like to take my time.”
Again, she need some time but how much time, I didn’t know.
One day I got her in my room. We both had the understanding that it was time to do it. I took off my cloth and she didn’t complain when I helped her to take her’s off. Just when things were getting heated up, I felt she was pushing me off her, “Get up, get up, what is that?” I was like, “What is what?” “You have a tattoo?” She asked
I pushed forward for a kiss while saying, “Obviously you see a tattoo so I have a tattoo.”
“Get off me. I say get off me. Why didn’t you say it? Why should a man like you have a tattoo? Which home? Whose home would I take you to for introduction? A tattoo? For what?”
She was dressing up while asking me all these questions.
I have an underarm tattoo. I had it on my twenty-seventh birthday when I travelled to Morocco. It’s an innocuous tattoo of a bird and inscription, “Bird and time.” The whole phrase reads, “Bird and time fly. It’s a saying I picked from a Moroccan boss. The philosophy behind it caught my attention so I made it into a tattoo. No one sees it except the person who sees me intimately.
She dressed up and stormed out but I didn’t follow her. The next day she called to ask me to meet her in town. I thought we were going to talk about it but she brought every gift I’d ever bought for her and said, “I’m doing this so you don’t stand somewhere and tell people I didn’t love you but I pretended so you could take care of me.”
I was like, “Amanda, you’re going too far with this. Why don’t you allow me to talk? Let’s have a conversation.”
“Conversation about what? Tattoos? No, it’s a deal breaker for me. Eiii, my boyfriend has a tattoo? My parents would disown me if I take you home.”
I asked, “But who will see it?” She answered, “I have seen it and I can’t unsee it.”
Days later she called to ask me, “How much have you spent on me? I would like to refund that too. I don’t want to hear anywhere that I chopped your money for free.” I was laughing at her. “Is it some joke?” She responded, “Don’t worry. I will send you something. If it’s small, tell me. I will add the rest.”
A few minutes later, kpin-kpin, I received an alert. She had sent me GHC1,000.
“Eiii, is this girl mad or something? What has come over her?”
She called but I didn’t pick up. Later when I called she also didn’t pick up. We went for days without talking. She texted, “If you don’t mind, I still want to be a friend but we can’t date. The tattoo, I can’t unsee it but you’re a good friend.”
I don’t like her friendship. She’s clearly a waste of my time and her own time. I responded to her message, “It’s alright. You don’t owe me friendship. I’m ok.” She wrote back, “Are you hurt? I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.” I didn’t respond.
Later she called. I didn’t pick. The last time she sent me a message she said, “It’s ok if you don’t want to talk to me. I will come home to see you. I hope you won’t sack me.”
I called so she would hear the seriousness in my voice. I said, “Don’t you dare step in my house and I mean it.”
She didn’t come. We are friends on social media. She comments on things I’ve written but I ignore her. She never stops so I won’t stop disregarding. She has a mental problem. All can’t be right up there but she’s not ready for that conversation so I’ll let things remain the way they currently are.
Ken – silentbeads
