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Dating: (True Life Story) How I Lost The Love Of My Life Playing Hard-To-Get

Dating: (True Life Story) How I Lost The Love Of My Life Playing Hard-To-Get

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Segun had been on my case for at least 2 years. I met him one hot Saturday as I was waiting for a
taxi on Grogner Street in Iwaya, Onike. He pulled over and asked where I was headed. I don’t ever
talk to people on the road but this day, the look of the mist on the window of his air conditioned
car made it difficult to ignore him given the extreme heat I was exposed to.
I stepped into his car, grateful for the ride, yet determined to let him know I was no cheap girl
that jumps into available cars. “Thank you so much, Sir, for the ride. I normally
wouldn’t do this but I have been standing outside in the sun for at least 30 minutes. The
cabs come in trickles and are either taken or too expensive. No one is interested in going my way”
“Where might that be?” He asked, totally ignoring every other thing I had said.
“I’m going to Ikota but I’ll drop off once we get to any major road where I can find a cab”.
“You’re in luck. I’m actually going to VGC but I need to get to Surulere first. So I can either
drop you off at a taxi park or you accompany me to Surulere and then I drop you off at your
doorstep.”


In as much as I was so eager not to overuse help being rendered, I opted for the latter option. I
was in no hurry whatsoever to go my empty home. Mom and dad were on their way to Ikene for a
week long engagement and my younger siblings were all in school. My best friend, Mololu had
kindly volunteered to spend the week with me but she would not be getting to mine until
Sunday night so that meant I’d be spending Saturday night by myself with only Larry, the
dog and Mustafa, the gate man, for company. I looked at my wristwatch, with its recently
cracked screen and declared,  “Well, it’s just 1.00 and I’m not in a hurry so I’ll
go with you”.




I got to meet him properly. His name is Segun, a businessman who was into the oil and gas sector.
He had been working for himself in Libya before moving to Nigeria earlier that year. The Nigerian
side of his business was only just growing and was already facing major challenges but a meeting
he had in Abuja two weeks from our meeting would determine if a major stumbling block
would be removed and his license would be granted. He saw an RCCG band on my wrist and
asked me to pray along with him. I promised to. As he dropped me off at about 4pm that
Saturday evening, I felt like I knew him already. Segun was very chatty, divulging a lot so quickly.
During those hours we spent together, I also found out that he has a 5 year old daughter by a
white French girl he dated all through his university years in France. The lady had gone on
to marry another Nigerian and they lived in Port Harcourt with his daughter, Amélie. His dad was
long gone and his mom had raised him and his siblings by herself. I did what I do not ever do. I
gave him my phone numbers and my pin and from there, we became friends.
The problem with Segun was with his way of showing concern and love. My primary love
language is Quality Time and I’m not really the type to get all mushy too early. So it came as a
bit of a rude shock to me when I received my first “love you baby”, 2 weeks from the day we
met. I really didn’t know what to make of the message and it abruptly ended our chat as I did
not respond. To be fair to him, I assumed he was simply overjoyed as he was granted all necessary
permits we prayed for, that he spoke out of turn. About four hours after, at 1 am, I got another
message from him telling me how much he’s so into me and how he feels like he has finally
found what he had been looking for and if I would be okay being a second mom to his
daughter and how he wants me to meet his mom.


 

I read it and responded with a “BRB”. Later in
the day, we met up for a meal and then I
explained how, though I appreciate his feelings,
it was all too soon for me and I would appreciate
if I am given a bit more time to be on that kind
of level with him. In the meanwhile, I suggested
that we remain friends. He looked a bit
disappointed but accepted and declared that he was in no hurry and would wait for me however
long it took me to realise my feelings for him or develop them.
Segun was extremely generous to me, almost worryingly so. Once he travelled and brought me
an orange Hermès’ Birkin 40cm bag which retails for about $2000. I was shocked and despite
loving nice stuff, I didn’t want to take it from him initially but I eventually did mentioning it
to him that he really didn’t need to spend that much on me and he should focus more on growing
his business.
Mololu usually saw one Harrods or Neiman Marcus shopping bag or the other and was always
encouraging me to “stop fronting and say yes to Segun before a sharp girl does”. I guess because
of the manner in which he approached me, it made me a bit overly cautious since this his
asking out was more like a proposal and he seemed so sure of his feelings for me. I slowed
things down a lot and outrightly refused to meet his mom for the first three months. I didn’t
want to get carried away at all and kept praying and taking things slow. Despite our living so close
to each other, I hardly went to his and since I come from a relatively strict home, his visits were
sparing as well (of my doing).
About six months after we met, work commitments took him away from Nigeria for a
long while. During that period, he would come to Nigeria at least once a month, bombarding me
with all manners of gifts. Even when he was not around, he’d randomly have flowers delivered to
my office.
He would send handwritten letters by DHL and whenever anyone was travelling to Nigeria, he
would have them deliver something to me, however small. There was a time he sent me a
bottle of Lucozade because I had lamented that the Nigerian one tasted different. When it came
to giving, Segun was without fault. But in my opinion, there was more to consider than how
generous a man is.
Sometime, five months ago, Mololu was sent to England for a training to last 3 weeks and she
used the opportunity to shop and ended up having 2 extra boxes. She complained over the
phone to me telling me the airline was overcharging her and then, partly because I felt
it right to help and partly because I had ordered somethings which she was bringing for me, I
decided to ask Segun if he could help out since I know he always travelled light and never uses the
extra allowance granted to him. He accepted to help bring the extra boxes and I gave her his
hotel address to drop them off a day before her flight. He was due in Nigeria a week and half
after.
My suspicion was first roused when, upon his arrival, he took the bags to Mololu’s in Ogudu,
instead of as I expected, bringing it to me and having us sort ourselves out. I asked for the
favour. I mentioned to him that my stuff was included in the box so it came as a surprise to me
when he drove all the way to hers the next day to drop the boxes off. When I asked him why he
did that, he said the boxes were quite heavy and that he was going that way and decided to drop
them off. I had more questions but felt since I was not his girlfriend, there is a limit to the
questions I can pose without looking funny. My pride got in the way and I decided not to
mention it anymore.
The calls reduced. The texts were shorter. The usual “love you” closing went missing. ‘Mololu too
reduced her communication with me. Then one day, she drove to mine and after lunch asked
the most random question, ‘Are you and Segun in a relationship?”. She looked like she had
struggled to ask that question but at the same time, as though that was her aim for coming to
mine.
“Why do you ask?” “Nothing at all o. Just wondering ’cause you have
known him for a while and you said you were praying a while back for direction and was
wondering if maybe God said no since you are not dating him”, she mumbled.
“Omololu, did I say we are not dating?” “Oh sorry. But I kinda know you are not”
At this stage, I know she and Segun must have spoken about our relationship status and so I
decided to cut to the chase.
“Did Segun mention it to you himself?” She looked down and playing with her perfectly
manicured nails, said yes. I had noticed she brought a brand new car to mine with a new
plate number. She had the black of my Hermes bag too. Wow! I didn’t want to believe what I
know just had to be the truth. It was written all over her face. I don’t know where I got the
strength but I said not a word after that.
Awkwardly, she picked up her bag and car keys. I noticed then it was a Hyundai. It must be the
Sonata she always wanted ever since it was released last year. She would always point at
every 2011 Sonata she saw on the road and say she’d one day, get it
To cut the very long tale short, my best friend Omololu and my 2 year old toaster are now
together. Segun drove to mine 2 weeks after Omololu did and said somethings to me. He first
of all apologised. He said he was not sorry for moving on but sorry that it had to be someone I
knew simply because of the sake of his consideration of my feelings and not because it
was wrong. He said, as I never for once, declared any form of feelings for him during our almost 2
year friendship, he does not feel he had wronged me in any way. He said he would always
be grateful for meeting me as, through me, a door of everlasting joy had been opened to him
and he would like my blessing as he walks into it. I was weak.
To be honest, I’m not hundred percent certain which hurts more, the fact that I’m losing a
really nice and eligible suitor, that I lost him to a
‘friend’, the sneaky way it happened or the fact
that I almost executed the deed for them by
creating an enabling environment.
I really wanted to know how it all happened and
so I demanded the tale, not from Mololu, but
from Segun himself. He told me that the week
before he travelled, when he saw her at mine,
they had got talking whilst I was in the bathroom
and she had mentioned she would be off on
training and that she would be doing crazy
shopping for her new apartment. They had a few
‘moments’ that day but they did not exchange
numbers. It was the day she brought the bags to
his hotel that the sparks went flying. She had
gotten to his hotel at about 12 noon and they
went to out together and he dropped her off at
her hotel at about 9pm. Early the next morning,
at about 5 am, he drove down to her hotel to
take her to the airport himself and from their
journey, they got even closer. According to him,
he knew that morning that he was ‘home’. That
conversation sounded painfully familiar and I
couldn’t help my grimace. At that juncture, I
held up my hands and told him I was satisfied
with the information he furnished and that they
both have my blessing. He hugged me and left.
That evening, Omololu updated her status with
these words “Those that wait on the Lord will
rejoice. I rejoice. Behold, my Boaz!”. His picture
was her DP. I remember that picture. I took it
with his iPhone whilst trying out an app. Each
day, a new picture of him would be put on
display. There was even one of herself, Segun
and his daughter. She had firmly ingrained
herself in his life.
Due to how serious I know Segun is, it came as no
shock to me when she told me they were getting
married and she really wanted me to be her
chief bridesmaid though if I felt I could not do
it, she would understand. According to her, she
was doing that for the friendship we once shared
which she hoped we could revive. I refused. But
not before letting her know that I could be
counted on if she needed any assistance.
At about 12 midnight, I got this email from her,
“Sweetheart, I love you. God knows I do. I
apologise for how I might have hurt you but
despite all, I would be a liar to say I would or
could elect to do things differently if given a
second chance.
Oluwasegun has brought me the type of joy I
thought was only for the fairy tales. But through
him, I have my very own fairy tale. I love him
with all my being. I know I might come across as
insensitive and selfish. I am sorry. But please,
try and find a place in your kind heart to let go
of any hurt you might be experiencing and enter
into a place of happiness for me, Omololu, your
sister and best friend since our Corona days. It
should not be heard that we are fighting over a
man and remember, my darling, you never were
in a relationship with Segun.
You never took the plunge, you shielded your
heart from hurt and refused to commit to
anything. I know you babes. When you truly love
a man, you have no time for such long due
diligence exercises. If you want to be sincere with
yourself, you would admit that Segun never did
anything to your heart. Your heart did not skip
beats with the sound of his voice. Your body never
quivered with the touch of his hands. I
understand you two never even kissed. You
clearly never felt love for him.
However, I cannot discount the friendship you
shared. Till date, he still goes on and on about
how you are the only friend whose loss moved him
to his core. I can testify too of your level of
regard of your friendship and respect for him.
But my dear, friendship and respect are not
solid foundation enough upon which to construct
a marriage. You knew this and this is why you
stalled. What did not grow in 2 years would most
likely never grow.
I hope you understand that the aim of this email
is not to throw in your face the fact that
Oluwasegun and yourself never had anything
concrete but to let you take a proper, honest
and dispassionate look at goings on. If you do,
forgiving me would come, naturally.
I can’t stop loving you dear. I am sad that the
vow we made to each other 16 years ago to be
each others’ maids of honour even if one got
married first would not be fulfilled. Please, re-
examine your heart and find a place in it to
forgive me.
Yours now and always,
‘Mololu.”
The tears came pouring down. I couldn’t say
exactly why and they were not asking. I felt
sorry for myself. I felt sad because I really
wasn’t crazy about Segun but we could have
made it work, I guess. Omololu now was
benefitting from all the prayers I invested in
Segun, all the fasting. That, more than anything
hurt me. I would have married Segun. I just
needed him to pass one more test and voila, I’d
have said yes to him. I never thought he’d stop
loving me. I never though I’d lose him and
certainly not to my friend, my supposed best
friend.
***
I eventually decided to be her Chief Bridesmaid
and muster strength to be happy for her. There
was no faking the look of intense joy on her face
when I told her I changed my mind. She jumped
on me in her usual boisterous fashion, laughing
and crying at the same time.
God has been helping me. It has been hard.
Especially when I see the look on Segun’s face as
he looks at her. He never looked at me that way,
I must confess.


His business has been doing greatly and he is
sparing nothing for his wedding. His daughter,
upon Omololu’s request, will be both the little
bride and the flower girl. Omololu’s nephew will
be the ringbearer. Her Eli Saab dress is absolutely
beautiful. Segun flew us both to England to get
it. She asked for a size bigger and I suspect she is
pregnant.


With each day, the feeling of hurt and betrayal
gets slowly taken over by happiness for her and
hope for my own future. I still haven’t met
anyone worth reporting on and despite this, I
have joy. Not happiness, but joy; joy that all will
turn out well. But for now, I still can’t help from
asking myself each time I look at Omololu, “How
could she?!”


Who would you blame?

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