I suppose that to most people, it is odd that I am making such a big deal about this whole sanguine trip. After all, according to my intimates, I have been Little Miss Bubbly all along. [and thanks for saying that savvy, you’re so sweet :)] It’s just that, as one said, nawekanga sura ya kazi, but that image fades the moment I open my mouth. 🙂
I’ve always been proud of my puppikit. It’s just the guys I’ve been with, well, they didn’t really like this ‘little girl’, so I kept her hidden. She’d sneak out sometimes, and the current OMAF would be so riled up that I’d just tuck her away again. Twitter is the first place I’ve encountered people who actually, genuinely enjoy that side of me. It feels great. Wonderful. Fabulous even.
So bit by bit, step by step, I’m hiding her less. I know that people have seen her out there, when I forget myself and just end up being myself. And she’s in full swing when I write. But now, for the first time, I am consciously letting her out. And it feels just faaaaabulous. Yay!!
In other news, of all the **cough**cough**four**cough**cough** guys that I have been with, there is one that I still think about. He crosses my mind quite often, and I’ve even written poems about him. Lots of poems. And posts too. I gave him a poem I wrote once, and he laughed. I’d send him texts, and he’d laugh. I’d even write him letters, and he would – that’s right – laugh. I asked him once if he thinks I’m some kind of clown, coz all I ever do is make him laugh. He’s a sharp guy – he didn’t answer; he just laughed.
I had it bad for this boy, and I didn’t even know it till he was gone. I walked past a car once. They guy had a navy blue t-shirt uncannily like his, and wore the same cologne. I was frozen on the spot for like ten seconds before I realised why I had stopped. It was another 15 minutes before I associated the scent with my Wolfie. **blush**
We had a good thing; it was light, and fun. But I opted out coz he had so much going on his life, I didn’t feel like he had time for me. The day I was walking away, it was me doing the crying and him doing the comforting; I still think it hurt me more than it hurt him. Or maybe he just hid it better, who really knows. Either way, I always hoped that one day, when he was less, you know, busy, he’d give me a call.
I called that boy last night. I have no idea why. I guess I just wanted to see what would happen. As I dialled the number, I kept saying “I can’t believe I’m doing this I can’t believe I’m doing this I can’t believe am do – haaaaaiiii!”
I can’t really tell if he was glad I called, but it was sure nice hearing his voice. I don’t know if you are reading this dear, but if you are, thank you for taking my call. 🙂