Hey, Stars!✨ Welcome back to another Sunday dose of Picture Story. Today’s a complete flip of what happened last week…*mischievous grin*
I was roaming about the streets of twitter one evening when I saw a funny thread about spaghetti. You already know I had to engage!
So I slid into this tweep’s DM and only then did I realize that he’s been trying to get my attention for about 4 months. I promise, it wasn’t intentional, it just so happened.
Anyway, things picked up quickly from there. 5 weeks, 73 hours 19 seconds of video calls, 108 voicenotes, 82 pictures and 114 memes exchange later, we fixed a date to meet in person.
It was on a Sunday like this. All I thought about while my pastor preached was how I couldn’t wait to be in my lover’s arms. Tongue out to you, Mable, look how I found love in the time of soso midiya.
I dressed up and waited for him at the junction we had agreed he would pick me up from. Boy, how excited I was to finally be meeting my Twitter love in person that I didn’t hesitate when the stranger I asked to take pictures of me charged $2 to do so.
I would have willingly paid any amount of money to capture the moment. A moment I was totally comvinced would be looked back upon as one of my favourite memories.
2 hours later…
At this point, my faith was beginning to waver but I held on to the hope that surely, the man of my dreams wasn’t going to stand me up.
The stranger turned photographer turned annoying companion, who clearly had no other productive thing to do with his time, charged me an additional $5 for waiting. Begrudgingly, I handed him the money with the consolation that my lover man will be there any minute now.
“I’m sure he’s stuck in traffic and his phone must have died”, I said out loud more to convince myself than my employee who was noisily chewing om boiled groundnuts as he reminded me of how many hours and minutes had passed.
4 hours, 26 minutes and $12 later…
“Aunty, even as e dey sweet me to just siddon here dey collect your money, time done reach make I go meet my Omalicha’m, my asampoto, my atutupoyoyo… ehn, no vex abeg”, he gave a throaty laugh, surely enjoying my misery.
Too frustrated, angry, embarrassed and ashamed to utter a word, I reached to collect my camera back from him.
“Ehn fine aunty, wait make I give you one last shot before I go use the money wey you give me spoil my babe”.
He took the last picture and left, but not before he dropped his unsolicited advice.
“But aunty, you fine well well now, and you come nice join again, abeg no dey let any yeye man dey use you catch cruise like this again. Sorry you hear?”
I swallowed back my tears. Never to be caught unfresh. I collected my things and hailed a cab home.
Seated at the back of the cab with a black nose mask soaking up my river of tears as they flowed freely, I heard the voices in my head whisper in unison. It was the only time they’d ever been in agreement. And as much as it hurt to admit it, I had to agree with them…
I’ve just been ghosted, again.
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