My name is Chris, a high-value man — according to my girlfriend. I genuinely love women from the bottom of my heart, and I spend most of my waking days trying to make the world a better place for them.
The one thing I hate the most is the manosphere; all these losers misleading men and brainwashing them to love their women less. I am glad that I’m not that gullible. The second thing I hate is the gym, I don’t have enough reasons for hating it but I just do.
Last month, I bagged a baddie — after taking her on thirteen dates over a span of four months. Linda is her name. She had just broken up with her boyfriend of one month, don’t do the math it’s none of your business. I am a thoughtful man, women dig that by the way; so I bedded her immediately.
I abysmally love this woman and I want her to be mine forever. Well, we all have our negatives, no human is without flaws. For my Linda, she’s perfectly imperfect. My friend of five years, Tony, told me the other Saturday that he saw Linda at a club on Friday with two guys. When I asked Linda, she told me she spent the night at a friend’s, so I was in the easiest dilemma of my whole life: to believe Linda or Tony? Of course, I believed my girlfriend.
Tony and our other friends ‘talked’ to me over drinks,
“Chris, are you blind or something?” This was Jonte.
“Yeah, in love!” A bunch of single boys can’t tell me nothing.
“She’s clearly not that into you!” Tony on a rampage.
“And how, pray tell, did you come into that information, Tony?” I said with a sarcastic laugh. If there’s one thing I’m good at it is brushing off jealous and envious people.
“I told you that she was twerking at the club.”
“Which club?”
“Quiver Kilimani.” He said, pouring us another round of shots.
“That is a lie right there! Linda hata hajui Kilimani ni wapi mzee. By the way, Tony, why are you this jealous of my relationship, man?” It was time to pull another card. This should do it.
“Come on, Chris, I’m just looking out bana. Ama nikiona anything fishy ninyamaze?” Gotcha!
“You know ball.” I said, stretching my hand to him, we made a fist bump, and that was it.
I work so hard for my relationships, and nobody, absolutely nobody has the right to poke their noses into them. My girlfriend comes first, then me, then Arsenal, in that order. If I am to die for her, I’ll do so in a heartbeat. As long as I do my chores, Linda will be mine forever; that is what she said, straight from the horse’s mouth.
I contemplated and chewed on our conversation with my friends, and I have to admit, Tony made some valid points, even if he might be jealous. That Friday that he was referring to, Linda and I had plans but she cancelled them last minute. She didn’t pick my calls thereafter, and she only came back on Saturday around 8am. Tony told me at around 4pm that day that he had seen her the previous night. Two guys? Linda doesn’t even like sex that much, why would she cheat on me with two guys?
Am I pathetic? Why didn’t she flinch when I asked her? She has never liked Tony, that’s for sure, but she loves me, right? I was in deep thought, replaying multiple scenarios over in my head, and anger overcame me. Am I being an overthinking boyfriend? Is it too hard to just trust my girlfriend? Oh God!
I was catapulted back to the land of the living by Linda’s warm embrace. It was 10pm, and she was carrying food. Fish and chips, that was my girl. She dropped the food at the table and removed her jacket, and jumped on me. She loves hugging me. God! That scent! She smelled like Hellen of Troy herself, whatever she smelled like. It was moments like these that I bless the universe and glorify my existence because damn, this is the life.
“Babe? I need to ask you something.” I started.
“Hmm?” Linda said, devouring my tongue like an over-starved bulldog.
She nibbled on my ears while caressing my chest and I realized that tomorrow is just as good as any other day to deal with that madness.
“Hmm?” She repeated.
“Not…hing, love. Go on.”
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