I’m sitting here at this dinner table bored out of my skull. Scratch that i’m mad. Very mad. I’m mad at my friends for thinking it is their civic duty to set me up on these dates. Why is the fact that i’m the only single one among them so much of a big deal? I’m mad at guys. They just seem so scarce these days. All the good ones seem to be taken. Did i miss the bus? I am mostly mad at myself though. I keep agreeing to these stupid dates with these stupid men. Why do I go in thinking this one is going to be different?

There’s no need sugarcoating it. This Chidi guy is a glutton. Not only that, he’s a manner-less talkative. i’m pretty sure I’ve only said five sentences throughout this dinner date. Chidi on the other hand has given me his entire biography including the number of scars he has on his body and the number of girls he has slept with. He also eats with his mouth open. I can see the wonders going on inside his mouth as his teeth and tongue make contact with his steak. I’m pretty sure bits of food have been spat at me several times. He also doesn’t exhale. Not like I blame him. I fear that if he does, his food will leave with the carbon dioxide.

I’m going to send a strong text to the girls they cant keep doing this. Setting me up on dates with the friends of they boyfriends. How is Ebuka friends with this Chidi boy though? They are polar opposites. My friends keep telling me my standards are too high. That I’m expecting a man with the body structure of Chris Hemsworth and the manners of Benedict Cumberbatch. I just want a love like that of my parents.

You see my parents have been married for twenty five years and my dad still finds a way of making my mum blush. It’s in the little things. The way he looks at her when she walks into the room. Like she is the only one that matters. The way he took care of us when she had to be away because of her job and never uttered a word of complaint. The way he surprises her by fixing her dinner on Sundays when she is too tired from church and sleeps off. The way he laughs at her jokes no matter how dry they are to my sister and I.

I want a man like my father. Strong and ambitious. A man who is open to new ideas. Who is ready to try new things. Who has absolute faith in me like my father had in my mum when she decided to leave her medical career and pursue her first love, writing. I want a man who is wise like my father. Who knows how to handle situations with his mouth and not his fists. Who doesn’t let his emotion becloud his judgement. I want a man who is honest like my father. Who wants to share every single detail about himself with me as I will like to do with him. Who is ready to deal with my sharp tongue and annoying tendencies. Who is ready to push me till i reach my full potential like I will do for him. I want a man who is hardworking like my father. Ready to sweat and toil for his family to be comfortable. Who is ready to fight for me like my father did when she said she was tired of the marriage and wanted a divorce. I remember like it was yesterday. The way he smiled and told my mother she couldn’t leave because leaving will mean taking his soul along with her and he wouldn’t allow her to that.

I look forward to our skype call  later tonight. I look forward to my mother’s smile when he calls her “OO.” To my father throwing his head back and laughing heartily when she cracks one of her jokes. With them I see that being deeply loved by someone gives you strength while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

 

 

 

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