Diary of an African child in Africa!

The Perpetually Hurt Bae

The first time she noticed him was forgettable. The second time is enduring in her memory. She performs melodramatic acts now because she feels as though it'd hurt less if she made her disappointments funny, masked her emotions and acted like nothing was bothering her.

People  tell her to just give it time and all of it won't matter anymore like the last time. But time goes on in the annoying way time always does.

She wishes she could've escaped with her pride intact instead of what she did this time and the times before. She blames romantic comedies for convincing her that she must never give up hope. She blames romantic comedies because they always taught her that there's always a chance to salvage a damaged relationship. But even when the movie ends and consciousness creeps in unbidden even though she tries to shut it down, it doesn't stop her from obsessing over that person or deluding herself into thinking that circumstances will change.

But then even after she gets through the hurt and it really does start to not bother her anymore, that's only the completion of phase one. The second phase is when he creeps back so nonchalantly and utters the most devastating seven-word sentence in the English language. 

Excuse the slight exaggeration. There are worse: "I'm sorry I ate the last slice" or "Sorry I can't pay you this week" but she's more used to:

"I think we should be just friends"

That's when the feelings come back. The feeling of having  a heavy object pressed on your lungs or your insides being passed through a blender. As well as the questions that are never answered to her satisfaction. Was she the problem? Was she not enough? Was he the problem? Was he the problem because maybe in his head he thought that if he gave her his 100% then he wouldn't attain his goals in life?

Friends? She thinks, over and over.

How is that possible without her feeling like all she'll ever be to him is his "maybe someday". How would it be possible for her to plan out in a systematic form the female psyche and help him find his 'the one' because the only thing worse than directing him to such a person is her never being that person.

That's what a friend does right? Clearing the way to making you find happiness that you can't or don't want to find with her. She couldn't manage to do that. Given the position she'd distract him with detours and put several speed bumps in his way, whatever would hamper him from being happy with somebody else.

What she doesn't get is that there's always that one person in everybody's lives that we've penned so much of our hopes on and want to make a relationship with them work but it just never works. So she starts to feel more lonely than safe in the fact that she's not the only hurt bae and definitely won't be the last.

She starts to feel more confused than loved.

Maybe she doesn't get it because she's had a couple of these people or been through it more than once with the same person.

The first time she noticed him was forgettable. The second time is enduring in her memory. She performs melodramatic acts like this because she feels as though it'd hurt less if she wrote about her misfortunes in the third person then it would all seem less real.