A toxic love.
Yoruba Demoness. I will crush your heart. I will make it bleed. I will make you cry. I will hurt you. - The twitter bio.
How he opened me...
‘Hola como estas gorgeous?’ he opened.
He thought it was cute. I mean, he must’ve been sure of himself to think that pouring a Spanish salutation would woo me. I could tell he was American and he was quick to state it to. So I coined him an ‘IJGB’ and he was proud of it.
He then called me out on my infamous twitter bio, the above quote. I was a self-professed Yoruba Demoness, that wasn’t banter, but I’d been heart broken recently and it was reflecting. The bio was a warning, he was warned.
‘Warner brothers’ he retorted... I laughed, dry jokes made me happy. But he did take this on board, In fact he NEVER stopped referring to it. In the future, it was part of his reason.
‘Seems you have a great feminine energy that I’d love to explore, your tweets are entertaining.’ Then he asked for a ‘vocal hi’. This was him expressing his interest to speak over the phone. This was him asking for my number. We spoke for hour that day, and the next and everyday till less than a week later when he decided to visit. Over those days, I’d called him out on his character. I was quick to inform him of behaviours that I didn’t approve of, for instance his hastily decisions to engage in online arguments... tweet fights. I also told him how I appreciated his honesty and how he was comfortable to speak to. So six days later when he said he was coming to visit, I was excited. He was only meant to hang out, but that turned into something more. That night we were intimate. He slept over and when he left that morning our connection had spiralled beyond ‘cool vibes’.
We were clear that none of us were seeking a relationship, however, we both craved each others company. Our night discussions continued and sometimes I’d go to work with basically no sleep. We were each other's night time ritual, and honestly there was nothing better practice. One day, at work, I got a call from him. I though something was up, so I was panicked. It must’ve been in relation to the conversation we had that night. But he just wanted to talk. He had developed daytime cravings. I felt wanted. I knew it was trouble, but I hopped on for the ride and we moved fast. Within 3 weeks, I was really into this guy, and he was into me. We’d hung out many times and each time we were just as excited as the next. But by the end of four weeks... We could not stand each other.
The first came when I went to visit him. I was returning the visit and I just wanted to hang out with him. So while we talked and hung out, I was really content. That day, I didn’t want to be intimate. So I turned him down. I thought he’d understand that I simply just did not want to. But he kept questioning ‘why?’ He kept pleading. He really wanted to and I didn’t.
‘Come on, that’s not fair.’ he said.
Then he took it to social media. Never once did he bring it up that it was me he referred to, but he went on a rant... calling me names online as I lay by his side. I laughed thinking, it was all banter till he switched his mood. He stopped talking, stopped smiling. I got it, but at the same time, I didn’t. We switched locations and the new place had me aroused. There was something about his anger and our environment that made me want to have sex. So I decided I would. Truthfully, it was guilt, but I never say that aloud.
‘If I catch feelings, I’m cutting you off’
And he did.
One morning at 6am, we were discussing and I probed deep into why he had certain thoughts about me. He realised at that moment, he had caught feelings. So he ran. With no regard for how I felt. He blocked me. I knew how to contact him, because I knew how he thought, but our main communication channel was blocked. I should’ve let him go. I should’ve walked away. He was a coward. But I too had caught feelings, so I chased him. I told him... and it was actually cute.
How I gave myself to him...
After we became clear on each others emotional standing, it was all bliss from there. I was trying to spend any opportunity with him. In fact one late night, while sleeping over at someones, I invited him to come over. He was there within the hour. I teased him in the shortest of shorts and bare minimum bikini and got into the pool. He was afraid of water. We’d shared this in our early discussions, but I still beckoned him in.
‘I got into the pool because of you.’ (he would throw this in my face as if I put him in a life threatening situation. The pool was 5′8 deep, he was 6′1.)