I've coped with the breakup by working really hard on an interesting client brief which has meant paths crossing with brilliant people I previously worked with including bff Sheila. Motherhood definitely suits her, and my officially soon-to-be godson baby Matt is coming along a treat. We work till 10 pm most days, by the time I get home George is already tucked away in his room. I can tell he's waiting for me to come home because his bedroom lights only go out when I climb the last step on the stairs and open the door to what used to be our room. Thursday night I tapped on his door and whispered goodnight. Gee was quiet for like two minutes though I heard our favorite Ce'cile cd playing softly...love you when you're gone. Then he said slowly sweet dreams, honey! My heart skipped some beats to hear his sexy drawl, I think there's more than a spark there, perhaps still some smoldering embers. For now I just curl up naked in bed where George used to sleep, tossing and turning tortured that he's only sleeping next door. I cover my face with one of his t-shirts sniffing his scent and soaking away my streams of hot regret tears. With my old tattered Raymonds Polar Bear blanket from my childhood wrapped round the pillow I manage to fall asleep just before 3 am. It's not ideal and I'm beginning to notice that I'm not firing on all cylinders by mid-afternoon. If it carries on like this I'll get myself off to Dr Njenga's for a prescription to help me sleep easier. The project I'm working on has a lot riding on it leaving no room for stupid errors. I know some of you who believe in love and the fallibility of mere mortals (I'm not talking of you kasaperekarembo) continue to pray for me, so I hope it won't come to a psychiatrist's couch.
What of elephant-in-the-room, Lavish daughter of Maingi? Well, she sent me a package by G4S Courier the other day; yeah I was also surprised when it arrived given that company's recent local incompetence. Imelda signed for a set of 4 sumptuous boxer shorts in large made from 95% cotton and 5% Lycra. They are a snug, velvet glove-like fit, very much like how I remember her little manicured hands. I'm not veerry endowed in that department (I'm average, Imelda made a good guess, lol) therefore smooth little hands wrapped around my toolbox are always more than welcome but that's another story, hahaha. Also with the package was a carefully crafted personal message. L2mm dear, hope you don't mind me sharing parts of that letter, which I later shredded, with my readers. In it she surmises that I'm not really gay or even bi, she accuses me of exhibiting classic psycho sexual-predator symptoms by blowing hot and cold thereby creating dependence all for my gratification. It's not the first time I've being called that, btw. I on the other hand feel like I'm getting manipulated from different angles. Or to put it in sheng, naona kuna ujanja unago. Oddly enough I'm enjoying both the attention and deprivation equally - I can't work out what about these two very diverse creatures lights up sensual areas of my brain like fireworks.
Oh, Lavish pto'd her missive with the bombshell:I love you and I want to have your baby! It's all too much for me to handle. Tonight I'll just let my hair down, I'm heading off to The Simba Saloon with Sheila for some alcoholic beverages (dawa, anyone?) and nostalgic eighties soul music. You can find us canoodling - seated away from the crowd - in the 'Jo'burg' part of the club. I asked George if he wanted to join us he said he'll think about it but he hasn't given me a decision. We've just devoured a rather juicy water melon from the fridge together which is a good sign, I