Losing Myself

Ebuka My Love

Tochi

He dragged his phone from my hands, his eyes cold “I told you not to touch my phone”, he said plainly. His sitting down on the coach he loves so much, the one he said makes him feel like a king. I can still remember the day he bought that chair like it was yesterday but a yesterday that feels so far away. He called me at exactly 10 that day, his voice sounding like an excited little boy.

“babe”, he shouted

His excitement was contiguous but that wasn’t anything rare, everything with Ebuka is contiguous. Duringmy first days of getting to know him I was fancinated by this, his ability to transfer his mood to mine even though I had my own mood to worry about.

“Yes”, I replied as excited as he was.

“It came. It came”, he shouted into the phone receiver.

I knew exactly what he meant, how could I not? He worked on it almost every minute of everyday. When he could not talk me to sleep anymore it was because he was working on it. When I wanted him to follow me to the store but he couldn’t, it was because he was working on it. I would spend hours in the kitchen making food for him while he worked in it. I hated the lack of attention I got from him because of it but I was patient, I wanted it for him. I wanted it for him so bad that I would forget to say any prayers for myself when I prayed. I would think of everything possible to make sure he was comfortable while working on it.

I jumped up and down in my room throwing pillows in the air. My mind was rasped in bliss, everything finally felt perfect.

“Babe, told you you were going to get it”.

“Get dressed, I’m taking you out”

I spent about 3 hours getting ready, I wanted to look perfect. Finally I settled on wearing an off shoulder crop top and high waist jeans. I thought certainly he was going to take me out, maybe see a movie or a nice restaurant we haven’t been before.

We were in the Uber when he pointed out a*****e mannequin display to me. It was a female mannequin wearing a long flare skirt with a blue shirt blouse with puffy sleeves. “That’s the kind of thing you should be wearing”, he said “this kind of outfits makes you look like a prostitute”. I didn’t reply that day, I simply smiled back at him. His comment was quite surprising, that was the first of its kind. Before that day my outfits were described as cute and adorable. There is a fence as tall and long as the wall of China between cutely adorable and prostitute looking. Ebuka crossed that fence in a day.

That should have been a shiny red flag, it wasn’t though. My Ebuka was just an overly opinionated young man who probably wanted his lady to look classy. And I was his lady, the Cookie Lyon to his Luscious.

The first place we went to that day was the furniture store, I felt blessed that he wanted me to help him pick out furniture; it made me feel like his wife. The chair was the first thing he saw when we got to the furniture store. It had deep brown wood that curled up at the arms, golden spirals were drawn all over the cushion part, it was magnificent. Looked like something straight out of a Nollywood epic drama in a King’s palace.

“I want that chair”, he exclaimed.

I laughed out loud. Although the chair was incredible, it looked like nothing that should belong in a self-contain room. It belonged to a movie set or at least a 4 bedroom house.

“You are not serious”, I replied “I don’t think that chair is for your room”

“You’re right but it won’t be my room for much longer” he said confidently.

There was no need arguing with him, he proceeded to bringing out his card and paid 250,000 nairafor a chair. I thought it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever done but in the months to come he proved to have the ability to surpass that ridiculousness.

I stared at him with tears running down my face. He didn’t look up at me, didn’t acknowledge me. His head was bent to his phone smiling as he did whatever he was doing. It wasn’t the first time it was happening but that day as I stared at him my heart squeezing against my chest I decided that there was no way he would make me feel that way again. Usually I would shout at him, asking him questions about the girl, trying to make him feel my pain even if it’s just a little. That day was different, there was something that broke or clicked in me that day as I stared at him. Instead of doing any of the usual, I walked past him to the other rooms looking for any of my stuffs I could lay my hands on. My chest ached pushing me to the bed where I sat for a while and cried. I took off the necklace he gave me dropping it on the bed; I didn’t take anything else with me but my phone. I didn’t want to be there any longer. I walked past him on my way out not surprised by the fact that he didn’t beg or asked me to stay. I was in that relationship by myself for a long time, I didn’t just know how to accept it.

The worst thing about the whole thing was not the fact that he cheated on me, or the fact that technically he had been cheating on me with several people during our whole relationship, it’s the fact that at some point in our 3 years relationship Ebuka was able to convince me that he is the only one that can love me. Ebuka the boy I fell in love with when he didn’t own a smart phone was able to convince me that he is the only one that can ever accept me as I am, without him I did be forever alone. There I was in my room alone at two in the morning feeling like I had to find a way to forgive a man that never apologized, who manipulated me to stay in a relationship for 3 years without gaining much of anything from him.

The human mind is a fragile little thing. I knew Ebuka is a pathetic piece of s**t not deserving of any love. I knew my beauty plus my innocence enough to be used by someone as idiotic as Ebuka. Still I craved him, to be back to the routine of loving him and expecting him to love me back. Love as they say is a drug.