Real life?! Meh.

A lot of my friends say that I suffer from a severe lack of seriousness. This is mostly true however, I will try and disprove them in this post (i.e. I will try be serious for a few paragraphs).

So, break-ups are really hard. They are especially so if the reason for the break-up is not because you’ve wound up in ‘dislike’, but rather because KPLC told you that the light at the end of the tunnel would be suspended forthwith.

[Sidebar: KPLC are the main electricity providers in Kenya, and have a reputation of reliably supplying darkness, stolen transformers, and malfunctioning appliances].

I have been attempting this only-like-one-person thing for a few months now, and it was going brilliantly. The gentleman in question had a whole dictionary (and then some) of two word retorts that made it possible to deal with all the varieties of crazy I could conjure. As a result, I started to behave in a somewhat sane manner. A happy medium that is, until two months ago when I found out information that upset the fine balance achieved. Everyone has a past, and the point at which you delve into these stories tends to be a defining moment for a fledgling relationship. It is when you decide that this relationship isn’t the thing for me, or in fact, our collective skeletons have a beautiful poetry that will add to the story of our lives together, and blah blah. IN or OUT.

Obviously, determining the significance of any skeleton requires good knowledge of what one is capable of dealing with. Here I was, faced with information of a past life that, to be honest, I could not rival. I had no story in my little repertoire that would top this one, and I could feel the playing field become decidedly uneven. My immediate reaction was ‘that’s ok, because at least he cares and...’, and things continued as normal. This was followed by an extended period of self-reflection where I walked around talking to myself, playing Eric Roberson over and over again, and reading poetry and James Bond books, and discovered that the relationship was over. 

Now I’m faced with an even bigger problem. See, my initial reaction to the revealed skeleton was >> INSERT EXTRAORDINARILY LONG BLANK STARE HERE<<. I have missed the window by so many months that anything on my part is disingenuous. And anyway, what response is acceptable? Is it fair to begrudge someone a life that they lived before they met you?! If that was the case, I’d probably lose out every single time. How do you tell someone that ‘I found out about this, and while I’m OK with it (for you), we can’t work...?’ That entire argument seems flawed, and yet, that is exactly how I feel.

So of course I’ve reverted to the norm and done the crazy thing. I’ve ended a relationship with someone in my head, and I’m trying to find a way to have the conversation out loud. We're both aware that something has died and been buried (> like a twitter joke), but it really is quite strange not saying it out loud. I suppose we (read me) are waiting for the right time...as if such a thing exists. I’m just grateful that kind mister knows I’m crazy enough to allow me the luxury. Meh. Real life sucks. Back to unseriousness 

(I've just poured tap water out my window to scare away a pigeon, and got the tourist sitting on the front step. Now hiding...)