heartEvery now and then a guy comes along and rips your fragile heart apart, with no sense of decency what so ever. I thought I found my diamond crusted guy candy but as it turns out he was merely a blood diamond. Blood diamond you ask, yes, he was nursing his broken heart due to his previous girlfriend’s  philandering ways. To my ignorant self all I could picture was Oscar Wilde sternly reminding me that”a heart was made to be broken.”  So here I was new in town being introduced to this blood diamond by a friend.

Blood diamonds are cute, fragile, still mourning their exes, a tad bit emotional however they ooze strength and are Über romantic. As I wag a finger, darlings blood diamonds have alarm bells written all over their sexy ass however all we see are hearts gliding on a halo with our inner voice digging the grave. They are couth, cultured, gallantry but honey however tempting grab your red soles and shut the door or you in for hell of a ride. Blood diamonds are usually on a rebound but they are in denial, dropping phrases like they cool, they over that hood rat or they will be on some I’m ready to mingle the world is my oyster.

Yeah right! Sounds tempting but all they are is an emotional mess and the only thing you will be good for, is handing him a shoulder to cry on, when the chips are down. The next thing you know he’s back on 5th avenue with his ex-girl with a baby on the way, for real, ask Iggy Azalea about her ex bae Nick Young. That’s what’s up, As soon as he gets back on his feet he’s gone and all you were good for is getting him prim and proper for his new lady. Well for Nick he’s sitting there massaging his ex-girl’s four months pregnant belly while Iggy nurses a heartache. Now that’s a blood diamond for you he wrings you emotionally dry while he scouts the woods for his match, even that rock on Iggy’s finger will mean nothing when he’s through with his shenanigans. He may appear to have the perfect cut and trimmings of a carat but no good comes from pocketing him, ask anyone trying to sell a blood diamond. I had my fair share of a blood diamond but thank goodness it didn’t include a yearlong engagement.

My blood diamond wasn’t your typical tall dark and handsome, we dream them out to be, oh mara he was debonair, an erudite, in my eyes he was the pyramids of Giza and Picasso’s painting wouldn’t do him justice. A son of the soil deeply rooted in African consciousness with a smile that would grow flowers, he was my Bugatti Veyron. In him I saw angels dancing, we were the X in the alphabet, number II in roman numerals. Our hearts spoke in one voice, my heart beat was his heart beat and each kiss nourished my soul. He was my king and I, his queen.

Our hearts collided, like two rivers merging we became one, drowning in pain, our love was written among the stars, with the moon our guide, we were merely distant shadows in the desert, heart ripped to shreds, like pieces of glass piercing the ground; from loves nest to hell’s window.

All I can say is that this man had my heart; I was captivated and moved by his aura. Ok, certainly I worshiped the ground he walked on, though I wouldn’t say he completed me mara complimenting he did. He had me wrapped around his finger, phela ne ke le maratong you can’t blame the heart for having a mind of its own. Assuredly I had the list and he had more ticks than I had anticipated, he was my gift and I, his angel. Was he the one who got away hardly, he was never mine, and in his own words “ke ya goe rata but I’m not ready for a relationship” simply put thank you but your services are no longer needed. Mind you I was fascinated by his world hence I cooked, shared his bed, played scrabble and listened to his constant ramblings from Ngugi Wa Thiong’o to Thabo Mbeki; I was in love and enjoying every minute of it.

I did what every woman confined in a relationship would do; now where did I fail him? I didn’t you see, I presume he was getting hooked to this Venda Chiquita and hence he thought it best to erase me from the equation or I would assume I was just a number to him, a distraction maybe or better yet guess he truthfully wasn’t ready for a relationship due to his past experiences, I’m clueless. All I knew for certain was that I was being dumped, flushed down the toilet like yesterday’s garbage. I was caught off guard and it felt like my breath was being sucked out of my lungs by a vacuum. I held it together though my tears were gazing through my pupils and fighting it out like Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield, I refused the urge to shed a tear. I couldn’t let him see how wounded my heart was.

Then he dropped the famous line “let’s be friends”, now that got me irate, you see, to be frank It isn’t easy being friends with the one you love; phela when I see him my cookie crumbles my body begins to sing in a language that’s incomprehensible, oh yes, more or less like that feeling one gets when listening to Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s get it on’.

Why you calling it off? Well my dear I did mention I wasn’t interested in a relationship. Well darling you could have reminded me about that part when we were having mind blowing sex, or when we were lip locked and you were declaring your love and affection, or how about when you whispered those three damn words ‘I LOVE YOU ‘while you held my cheeks affectionately with your eyes lost in mine. Maybe then I would have remembered about the ‘no relationship clause’. Alas as you wish your command has been duly noted, in essence I did let my heart get consumed and sucked in the love bubble, I let my defences crumble down and all it took were those three damn words ‘I love you’ after which I was putty in his hand. I caught the love bug and ooh my smooth operator played the cards flawlessly, I was the apprentice he the master, he kept me sane and centred and now he has a new protégé; from loves nest to hells window.

The basic universal principle uncontested of any relationship has to be communication. It’s an element that keeps the fire burning amongst couples, it’s that GPS that gets you back on track when we of course. However in Iggy’s case ‘Trust’, once that’s broken that car is going nowhere but rather finding its place in a scrap yard. I loved my blood diamond, but his definition of a relationship and love as juxtaposed to mine I presume differed. Should they have been outlined surfing this wave will have been much smoother. I agree they were outlined but then again in retrospect the use of the word ‘Love’ created a misperception that consequently drove me, from a love’s nest to a hell’s window.

My blood diamond packed up his bags and left town, hence I have no idea how his life panned out. We were just two different people who tried it out and whatever it was didn’t work out as expected. I’m still clueless as to the term ‘relationship’ as per his reasoning and in his thoughts guess we were just friends with benefits. I’ve had my share of a blood diamond hence I’ve learned to keep my distance, however a diamond is a diamond whichever way they may be packaged.


2 thoughts on “Love nest, hell’s window

  1. I’ve experienced this and so I know, any man who is 50,50 about being exclusive with you from the very beginning is a fake. If he’s still mourning his ex, let him be. If he pretends to take forever to be in love, let him be.
    A man who wants to be a woman, heart and soul is willing to be committed to her from day one. That is the hard lesson i learned and it was painful.


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