“…Today I am here to rant”. I could tell one was gulping his favourite whiskey at his favourite Kafunda if he or she started their post that way on their Facebook timeline.
But I am also here to rant. I am going to be honest as I can be. The rate at which people are marrying or getting married is worrying. The horrible dating scenes that lead to these occasions are sickening. I mean there is lots of sex on going with no serious or genuine relationship.
To say the least, people have more sex than the number of days they date. I am not even bothered by this because I would have a Master’s in ‘bridemaiding’—had there been such an award. My neighbour at work always asks whose wedding or traditional ceremony I am attending next, and he is never wrong. There is always one, in any part of the country.
While I have a can of friends who have dating mares too, I cannot shelve the fact that a number of them bring this misfortune, or is it a blessing, upon themselves.
I am starting to imagine we have been brought up to think we can live on sex and forego relationships, but I am afraid to say perhaps we do not even know what we want. Perhaps I am being paranoid at the same time.
Do you ever imagine that in the instance that a man approaches you and says he likes you but has a wife and daughter at home, it is only sex he needs? Chances are you are either going to be good enough for a ‘booty call’ or just coming in during a time of dire need.
At one point I wanted to run back to my ex, that man who used every opportunity he had to raise his muscled hand to slap me, the one who never missed any opportunity to smash my phone at a single beep from any male name.
After several people who “felt for me” intervened and made me call off that desperate move, I was almost in the process of dating anything in male form, anything that owned a muscled body, and wore pants and a collared shirt as long as I was head counted among those who were dating.
Not to forget my hopelessness in looking for my Prince Charming or going on a first date expecting a kiss and a proposal. I could rant forever about the endless dating mares. Of course, I got to know that love is not a leveled ground. It is quite rock-strewn, unmapped and bigoted.
I remember when the guy that I had crushed on for two years finally started a conversation. I was mesmerized. To top it all he asked me on a date, something that I somewhat felt privileged to engage in. After three dates, he asked if I could be his friend, and have a relationship with him till he married his fiancé or until I found someone to love. My dreams came crashing badly. And yes, I run for my life.
And while women would love to blame the man and say they don’t know when a “real woman is in their face”, the singles are to blame for not knowing what they want.
It is about having all of these options, and not knowing how to choose from among them, or whether we even want to.
My friend Bianca is in a total mess at the moment. All she wanted was instant love, marriage, money and what a guy has to offer, all at a click of a finger. Even with her handsomely paying job, she deemed it fit to have a car that another person could afford for her.
She never left the club because everybody else told her sober love and money are found in drunk places. And she expected Kenneth to stick by her; after all, they both met at a bar. All she wanted was to get rid of the single life and settle with anything that had money.
But why should I blame her? Lately, the good men fear to hook up for the same reasons that the good women fear to hook up with them. Little wonder we have foxes dating their mates. I have come to make peace with the fact that being single is cool, but if you do not delight in the single path that you chose then you are to blame.