Exactly eight years ago, I went to Mombasa. This time alone. I was reluctant to go. I felt that something bad or at least important would happen during my trip. However, my trip seemed better for all people concerned. I suppose that I accepted my fate of what was going to happen.
When entering the Arrivals hall, nobody was waiting for me. I made three rounds, while looking at the people. Nobody approached me, despite being the only white male. A small young woman was looking back at me. She didn’t resemble the tall, skinny woman, whom I expected to see.
After my third round, I became upset, took my phone, and started calling her number. Then I was interrupted by the small young woman, asking me: “Are you Leon?”
While calming down, we went looking for the cab that was supposed to bring us to the apartment. The midnight cab ride was about 50 kilometers and took us some 2 hours on busy on scarcely lit roads. It felt dangerous, exciting, long and exhaustive.
During the ride, my annoyance disappeared and my curiosity took over. Half way, I finally dared touching her legs. Then magic happened as I was struck by Cupid’s arrow. At the age of 52, I had never ever felt that sensation before in my life.
The apartment had a big surprise in store because the second bedroom had been turned into a walk-in closet for the owners. I complained to management that the pictures had shown two bedrooms. I was offered to relocate twice during my three week stay.
My companion said she didn’t mind having one bedroom. I guess I became more focused on the upside of the new situation than its downside. For about 10 days, we shared wonderful moments. Then the secretive phone calls started, during which she disappeared.
Back at home, I noticed that she had not closed the social media site, at which we had met a year ago. I was devastated by what I read in her conversations. It broke my heart. A three week vacation turned into a love hangover of many, many months. Meeting her cost me my relationship.
At the age of 52, she unlocked my heart. There is no person in my life, whom I have forgiven more than her. It’s impossible forgetting about her. With the knowledge of hindsight, she was not the only one I have loved. When your heart is closed, you really don’t know much about love.
She (1999) by Elvis Costello
artist, lyrics, video, Wiki-1, Wiki-2
She may be the face I can’t forget
A trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
Note: all markings (bold, italic, underlining) by LO unless stated otherwise.
Interesting, I should also write a story.
Sometimes you have to cry, forgive, learn, move on but in some instances you wish you never met some people.
Thanks Jamy. Your remark may also be about a recent episode in your own life? Writing may look easy but it’s not. Without inspiration, nothing much will happen.