AFFAIRS:
THE ARTIST
It had been a month since Kojo left. One long, slow,
dry and painful month.
Do I miss him? Every day. Does it hurt still hurt?
Yes, but not as much it used to. It is pain. It never goes away; it just gets
easier to bear. The memory of that evening haunts me and I cry, sometimes. The
very scent of my room still dredges up repressed emotions and thoughts. I can’t
blame it; he did break up with me within those walls.
I had to get up, get out and put my broken heart and
life back together. I could no longer stay in this deplorable state that the
split had put me in. I can’t keep missing and wishing he’ll come back when he
doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me. (I checked his Facebook page…and Twitter…and
his Yahoo status updates…and his Skype status)
I had to get over Kojo, feel sexy and flirt again.
What better way to do
this than to pick up a new activity. No, not getting under someone. All that
ever does is cause more complications, emotionally and psychologically. I
picked up something I had always wanted to do but couldn’t because work was too
much and all my free time was mostly spent with him. Now that he is gone, they
are filled with emptiness, tears, fatty foods and sad, romance movies. I picked
up Art. Drawing, Painting and other related activities. I enrolled in an Art
School which was just a fifteen minutes’ drive from my apartment.
And how has it helped?
This Saturday morning, I went to the salon for a Manicure
and Pedicure which I hadn't done since he left and it had left my hand and feet looking like that of a peasant. Plus, I put on lipstick today to
Art Class at noon. All of this had to be paying off because my Art teacher kept
stealing glances from behind his canvas.
His name was Louis. He was about six feet tall or
more as far as my sense of height could tell. His facial features were rugged;
stubble on his chin and a mustache, his eyes looked sunken, sad and tired. His
lips were small and thin like that of a white man. It was obvious from the
texture of his hair that he was mixture of different races. He had a slowly,
maturing beer belly and was a bit too plump for my liking, compared to Kojo’s
tall and skinny but fit frame. He was pretty much everything I found
undesirable in a man but yet his constant gazes at me made me giggle inside
like a school girl.
I was fresh from a breakup (1 month is still fresh,
right?) and emotionally vulnerable so any form of attention felt like a little
slice of heaven. It told me that even if Kojo didn’t want me, I was still a
very attractive woman to others. That I wouldn’t die alone or amongst cats or
farm animals like some of my grandmother’s friends.
The flirting continued for a few more weeks before somebody decided to take the first move. A move which I was soon
to regret.
Class was over early that Saturday afternoon but I
stayed back to finish on some practice exercises I couldn’t get to because of
work. I sat there slowly and carefully working out the shades of my
silhouette when I heard his footsteps walking in my direction, gentle yet
sturdy.
He stopped behind me, and I knew he was watching
what I was doing with the charcoal stick.
‘If you tilt your wrist in this direction, you would
get a better shade of what it is you desire’
He reached out and placed my wrist in the position
he had spoken of, and within minutes, we were at a nearby bar having a drink
and some pizza.
We talked and laughed. He told me of his family. His
father had passed away a few years back, and mum lived alone in the country
side. He spoke of how he got into painting and his love for it. So passionately,
he spoke of it as his one true and only love. Obviously, being the kind of man
he was and the kind of work he did, he had been with women; not so many but he
had had his fair share of beautiful women in his life.
If I say I found myself warming up to him, that
would sound so cliché but the way he looked into my eyes, his smile, his laugh
and those times when his hand touched mine whenever he got so emotional about
something and wanted me to feel it (At least that what I think all the hand
grabbing was for), I have to say I was a bit smitten. We left the bar after an hour or two. It was
getting late so we strolled towards my apartment.
He would see me off with a light kiss on the cheek
and leave. I have no time or desire for any form of intimacy.
Maybe he could step in for some wine, besides what am I going to do inside than
wallow in my sorrows. Just a drink, chat and that would be all. He
would be gone and I would be asleep.
‘Lovely place you have here’, he said when he
stepped into my living room.
‘Thanks!’ I replied. ‘Would you like a glass of
wine?’
‘Sure but nothing alcoholic. It is late and I still
have to go home. Don’t I?’
He grinned. I smiled and went in search of something
non-alcoholic. That is if I had any. Since the break-up, it had been alcohol,
alcohol, fruit juice with alcohol, tea with alcohol and some more alcohol.
‘Thank God’, I muttered.
There was still some fruit juice left over from last
night and a large amount too. I cleaned out two glasses and took a tray of
cookies as well.
‘There you go’ I placed the tray on the table and
sat next to him on the sofa.
‘So you live here alone?’
‘Yes. Just li’l old me by myself’
‘No boyfriend?’
‘No. We just broke up a few weeks back’
‘What happened?’
And so the story of Kojo and I began to unfold. I
hadn’t really talked so much about it since we split. Even Zara tried to get me
to spill how I really felt but I preferred to hold it in and cry whenever I was
alone.
The pain still felt very fresh. How I miss Kojo!
I began to cry as I narrated and had to
stop when I couldn’t go any further. He moved closer to me and hugged me tight.
I needed that. I completely broke down. Crying like a baby. He got out his
handkerchief and wiped my tears and the little snot that was slowly dripping
down my nose.
‘Oh dear. I am so embarrassed’ I got up.
‘I am so
sorry. I didn’t mean to break down like this’ I laughed and went it to put
myself back together.
As I stood in the kitchen, washing my hands,I heard thunder strike outside and looked out the
window. It was pouring heavily outside. There was lighting and more thunder.
‘Shit!’ He might have to stay a bit longer than I had wanted.
I went to the living room.
He had gotten up from where he had been seated.
‘I have to take my leave now before it starts
raining cats and dogs outside’
‘I guess I have to be the bearer of bad news then.
It is already raining cats and dogs outside so I think you might have to stay a
while till it goes down.’
‘I don’t know if that is such a good idea…’
I walked up to him.
‘No. it’s okay. I don’t mind. I promise not to cry
again if that is what you are worried about’
We both laughed.
‘No. I just didn’t want to cause you any inconvenience’
‘I’m fine.’
We smiled and got back to talking. Two hours had
gone by, and the rain didn’t seem to showing any signs of stopping soon. And I
was getting tired and very sleepy.
He had no choice but to stay here for the night so
we discussed and after my persistent pleas, he agreed to stay and sleep on the
couch. What other option did he have? To stay awake till the rain stops? That clearly wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
I gave him a spare blanket and pillow and
we bade each other goodnight.
(To be continued...)
