It was intentional - I went out of my way to depress myself. I would read sad books, watch depressing movies and search for miserable tumblr blogs. To my friends I'm fine and dandy, the self-loathing only comes at night.
In fact, all my entries prior to meeting Gabriel are a mess of chaotic unhappiness. I reject happiness and doubt every good thing in my life. My family and friends were untainted by the bubble of misery I put myself in. My sadness belonged to me and me alone. It was a private world I retreated into nightly.
In a way, it was a gift to be able to be that sad.
After all, it must mean whatever I'm sad about must have given me a colossal degree of happiness, for it to conversely turn into this much unbearable sadness when it leaves.
The sadness grew comfortable and I reveled in it towards the end. I had a grand total of one relationship after I fucked things up with a man who I didn't deserve, and to be honest I don't remember that relationship much.
What I remember is the punishing nights I spent wondering if I should have just waited. If I should try again. If I could touch the heavens and move the earth with my unshakable faith that in the end, I belong to him.
But then I met Gabriel.
He wasn't supposed to be special.
When we got together, he told me he went through great lengths to find me. He saw me on Tinder and saw me again on Paktor and resolved to talk to me no matter what. He attributes it to my attractive red hair. He swiped right and waited. And then I saw him pop up on my app.
I remember my exact train of thought when I first saw him on Paktor.
He had four photos. The first was him carrying his baby cousin. The second I forgot. The third was him eating from a plate. The forth was him on a bike. My reaction was as follows, "No. No. Hmm. Ugh."
But I decided why not and swiped right on him. He chatted me up on Paktor and I didn't think much of it. He asked to take our chat to whatsapp so I gave him my number. But I ignored all his messages there. I am pointless I know.
So I continued ignoring him for the entirety of December 2014, the month where he first secured my number. Every conversation he tried to initiate, I shot down. I would delete his messages and disappear. The only reason I saved his number was solely because of his name.
Constantine.
But I ignored him still.
Little did I know but he was already on my instagram and reading my blog by that point. He knew things about me while he remained a complete enigma to me. He kept trying to talk to me. Man was I cruel.
I am smiling reading through our whatsapp history. The number of times I blue-ticked him could have colored the sky. And he tried so hard awww I didn't know any better. All kinds of hints I blatantly ignored.
"Constantine would like to know nicole better. He likes it when nicole replies. It makes his day brighter a little:)"
I came so close to "brighten*"-ing him. So close.
On Christmas he spoke to me again after weeks of static silence. I replied out of courtesy and decided to chat a little. My first thought is always the same, "A Constantine. A Constantine. Just try replying." But I always disappeared.
But on 31st December 2014 at 3.45AM, I called him for the first time.
We had been chatting on whatsapp past 2am, which is roughly the time I start consciously making bad decisions. And since the man was up, I decided to be more chatty than usual. And it led to me eventually calling him.
And he handled it well. Most men I used to date got terrified at the first call. But not him, no, he was playing a game and didn't quit it even though I was on the line. He just multi-tasked. If anything, this was the game changer for me. It changed my idea of him entirely.
I was always convinced he's an idiot. He sounded like an idiot on whatsapp and I thought he had air for brains so I didn't enjoy talking to him. But on the phone he was a perfect charm.
He had the most delicious English drawl and the deepest, sexiest voice. His laughs were full and cheeky. His jokes were lame and punny. He was smart, he was witty and he was irresistible to a fault. I liked talking to him so much, I didn't hang up till two hours later, close to 6am.
I don't remember if we continued to chat more. In my memory, I know there was a period I'd call him every night. I'd rush home by 10pm just to wait for his roll call and be sad when it nears 1am because he'd have to hang up.
Now because life likes to throw me challenges, it gave me an abrasion of a nose in the week I was due to meet him for dinner. So on 2nd Jan when we were supposed to meet, I cancelled. I told him I had a nose thing.
"What's your address? If you really ain't feeling well then ill cancel the reservation and come take care of you instead."
My place is off limits to anyone but my friends. Most of the men I date don't meet my parents. Nobody meets my parents unless I'm dying or I'm serious about them. And so I said no. And we decided to meet the day after.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
I have never been happier, Gabriel.
I truly haven't.
You lifted the sad haze I've grown so accustomed to. You cut through my fog like a knife and you shone like a beacon in my darkest hours. I almost lost you. I almost chose another. But thank god you came. You came through.
Some days it feels like I wrote you straight out of my dreams.
Last week, I was sitting on your chair in your big shirt watching Breaking Bad up close because I can't see it from your bed due to my shitty vision. But I got cold and needy and so I waddled towards you for love.
Most of the time, you would continue watching and not be bothered by my presence. But that day, you looked at me walk towards you and your face lifted as you opened your arms and made space on the bed for me.
I climbed onto the inside of your bed and snuggled up to you. You turned and lovingly fussed over me, going, "Awww so cute you. Always want to cuddle," and I buried my face in your chest and refused to let go.
I do. I do love cuddling you.
I love holding your hand to sleep. I love your leg sprawled across mine. I love your noisy breaths on my forehead. I love hugging your belly to sleep. And I love the rare moments where you would shuffle in your sleep and reach to hug me, and settling down after I'm warm in your arms again.
The days to my Tokyo trip are counting down, and yes I'm suitably excited. But no more excited by the fact that it draws closer and closer to sleeping next to you again. From 11 days of not seeing you to just 8 days.
It is strange, isn't it? That my love for you has become so exponential that you are no longer just a boyfriend. You are my home when I go on vacation, and you are my vacation when I am back home. You are everything.
Dear God, let me keep him.
Let me keep him forever.
Take whatever else you want from me.
Just not him.
Let me have him forever.
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