Love, Life, Line

Expectations & Suprises

January 15th, 1991, marked the arrival of my existence during the driest season of the year. Life's journey has been a roller coaster—a whirlwind of laughter, tears, and the occasional quiet moments. Reflecting on this path, I take a moment of silence to honor those I've lost along the way, individuals who wove stories that I naively embraced. Here's to them, a toast to the narratives that shaped my life.

My birthdays have never been a cause for celebration, not due to financial constraints, but rather due to the uncertainty of how to mark the occasion. Surprises have eluded me, and even a pair of socks would have sufficed. With four days left until my birthday, my only wish was to spend time with my partner, though I kept my desires to myself. In the eyes of everyone inquiring about my plans, I appeared as busy as a bee, entangled in a web of clients that left no room for rescheduling.

Two days down, and the countdown continued. Secretly, I hoped for a surprise from Andrew. He had managed to meet every expectation so far; surely, dazzling the love of his life couldn't have been that challenging? Three days later, our conversations continued as if nothing was amiss. He acknowledged my impending birthday, even wished me well in advance. But where was the confirmation of his return to Kenya? Andrew had been in South Africa for weeks, and a return journey was a reasonable expectation. Shouldn't intuition nudge him that he was my birthday wish, the embodiment of all I desired? Paranoia crept in. Was this the turning point I had dreaded? Were the long-hidden red flags finally emerging?

"Siz, chill out. You're giving me a headache. Focus on remembering your age—that's your primary concern right now." Miriam, my best friend, oddly tried to soothe my mounting anxiety on the fourth day. The D-day was hours away, Mr. Man was out of the country, and signs pointed toward inevitable disappointment.

"Happy birthday, babe. Regrettably, I can't be there for your special day, but you can indulge in anything you desire, on me." I read his message aloud, frustration simmering within me. Yet, my aching heart demanded more urgent attention. I yearned for his embrace, his scent, the intoxicating gaze that locked onto mine, the fulfillment found in his deep voice—yet he callously denied me all that. How could he? Weren't we in love? I vented my heartache to my nonchalant best friend.

"You know, this might be the perfect time to plan a trip to Dubai. Remember when we wished for wealthy men to pamper us? Well, it seems God answered you first, and we're meant to share this blessing. Pass on that blessing and ask Him to grant my dream as well."

Dumbfounded, I listened to my so-called best friend's words. My disbelief swelled as I heard her speak. Was she, like the previous men in my life, a mistake too? In my moments of hurt and longing for solace, did she simply possess a selfish agenda? I craved comfort, not frivolous requests, yet, as a testament to a decade-long friendship, I found myself asking for that Dubai trip. Astonishingly, my wish became his command, and his pictures became my cherished companions throughout the journey.