MY EX

OK, story time!

My ex was a very beautiful lady.

An amazing Niger Delta princess.

One funny brother in church jokingly said that if my ex and I got married, we may have given birth to a beautiful mammy water because he considered us very beautiful and very handsome respectively.

Matter of fact, she was a face model and did some modeling jobs with a number of organizations.

I remember one juicy job she landed with a major telecommunications company that paid her what was a lot of money at that time.

Infact, it was five times my monthly salary then.

Her pretty face was on large billboards in different cities in the country and also at an international airport.

She felt elated. I felt really proud of ‘my babe’.

Beyond all that, she was a lively and jovial girl.

I fell in love with her sparkly and sweet personality.

I can say more about the soft feminine touch she gave me the opportunity to experience but let’s leave it as I’m no longer into her; and I will explain.

Certainly, there were some less than ideal areas of the budding relationship but as is typical of me, I would prefer to focus on the good aspects.

It was my first and only real dating experience.

I remember the exact date we met: 20th of August.

It was on a Sunday, and it was in a church.

I vividly recall the momentary circumstance that led to my ‘accidentally’ and innocently (at least for me) meeting her on that beautiful Sunday. 

A kind little gesture that I could have extended to just about anyone and which I didn’t really take to heart but which she interpreted deeply because it struck a chord with her, as she would later tell me.

Thereafter, we shared happy public and private moments together, for which we were grateful.

I was already working in an oil company by then.

She was in her final year at the university.

Fast forward, about a year later, I took her to one special buffet-styled candlelight dinner I had intentionally planned ahead of time for her, in an exclusive hotel restaurant on a Valentine’s Day.

Of course, with the kind of nice gifts she loved.

Private dinner. Soft music in the background. 

I had made up my mind to settle down with her.

It was there and then I proposed marriage to her.

She smiled widely but warmly, looked surprised and deeply touched by the surprise romantic proposal. 

It seemed she wasn’t really expecting a proposal.

Perhaps, she felt it would be another thrilling and exciting Valentine outing, without strings attached. 

Was I rushing things? 

After a year and a few months of dating? 

And it was not a platonic relationship.

Although we had a little break at a time.

Anyways…

She embraced me very dearly, and said: wait.

I was mildly shocked, even somewhat confused and disappointed. But I maintained composure.

She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no. 

Just wait.

Maybe she was not yet sure or not yet ready.

I accepted her request. Respectfully. 

I drove her back to her mother’s house. 

Her dad was late. 

I went home deep in my thoughts.

Shortly after, she left the city and went off to do her national youth service in another major city, having already graduated from the university.

We didn’t see for a larger part of that period.

I waited. I think I did. But only for a while.

Then I stopped communicating much with her. 

I just let her be. No disturbances. No hassles. 

That’s how our communication ended.

My thoughts: this girl is not ready for marriage. 

Was she just playing with me all this time? 

Just catching cruise and enjoying herself?

My mind flashed back to a time when she told me some things about herself, how she didn’t feel she deserved me because of her lifestyle when she was on campus, and she didn’t think I would accept her if I found out some things about her. 

As at the time, I was new to dating culture, having had no prior romantic experience (and to make matters worse, I had gone through university as a virgin, preoccupied with and dedicated to serious spiritual matters and leadership activities in my campus fellowship).

So I was somewhat naive to her, although she was younger but more experienced in dating.

But then, I had assured her of my commitment. 

Was she still feeling insecure?

Also and more importantly, I was fresh into the labor market, basically just starting out in life.

Well, after a while, I got over it. And that was it.

I think she stayed back in that city—after her national service year—to work at the company that she had served in, as they had retained her.

She was balling and living her life, so I gathered.

As for me, I also moved on. Just like that.

When I say I moved on, believe me, I really did.

I mourned my loss and dealt with my emotions.

Then I picked up myself and shifted my mind.

Later as she came back to the city I was in, she called me up and asked that we meet. 

I met with her at an eatery, and we talked a bit.

I guess she was trying to see if she still had a chance with me. 

But I can’t lie, I had gotten over her. 

I had worked on my mind, erasing all feelings.

As I looked at her, I felt nothing romantic or exciting at all but just a cordial feeling for her as a nice person I once knew and felt a spark for.

She actually looked strangely different to me. 

Who knows what the other city had done to her.

And really, I had made up my mind to move on. 

Even though I wasn’t in any relationship then, I didn’t want to get back with her. 

Was it infatuation back then? 

Were we really suited for each other?

I had done some deeper reflection and decided.

Over the years, I still had her phone number but never ever called, because that’s just how I roll. 

I like to be intentional and I don’t play games with people’s minds or emotions. 

If I’m dating, then I’m not playing games. 

I will be committed and heading somewhere.

Defined relationships. No loose ends or guessing.

We bumped into each other a few times in church and exchanged pleasantries. 

She was still the nice bubbly girl with a charismatic and charming personality.

But you know by now, I had mentally moved on.

There were other issues to be considered.

Shortly after, she got into another relationship and even introduced me to her new-found man.

I was happy for her. Now, she can forget me.

When she was getting married to him, she even called and invited me. I truly was glad for her.

I think we were both mature and understanding about it all, although I don’t know if she had felt any resentment towards me at any time.

Well, I didn’t invite her to my own wedding. It just didn’t cross my mind. Zero communication.

Surely, it wasn’t necessary at all.

All this happened several years ago.

Recently, about a couple of years ago, I ran into her at a mall and she was looking really good.

But if you know me at all even a little bit, you will know that I will have absolutely nothing intimate to do with married women. A no-go area!

By then, I had deleted her number since she was a married woman and now solidly an irreversible ex, although I never even used the number before then and it was dormant in my Contacts.

I had kept it previously just in case she needed my help in any way I could come through.

At the mall, we exchanged pleasantries very cordially, and she told me her husband was out of the country and I also told her my wife (ex wife, actually) was also not in the country—she doesn’t even live in the country anymore.

She screamed excitedly and we exchanged numbers, for whatever reason I don’t know.

But again, you know me, I never called. She never called. Even if she did, I am not game for married women. In my mind, it is forbidden. 

Offer me 100 million dollars if you like, and you are on your own. Not an option.

Hey, don’t try it!

“Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.” 

I later deleted her phone number. Intentionally.

If I didn’t call her when she was not married, then is it now she is married? No, absolutely no!

I respect boundaries. My ex respects boundaries too. So I respect her even more for that.

I deleted her number but I didn’t block it. She didn’t call me after she knew it was over. I respect that.

When I say it’s over, then it’s over. 

The end.