The Exes

Okay, now that you’ve gotten a little background, lets get to the nitty gritty. As you remember, there was this whole stigma in Nigeria having sickle cell, needless to say, there wasn’t any romantics to write home about except for this one stalker boy in freshman year but as I said…not that important. In fact, I remember several times in Nigeria having a girlhood crush on a couple of guys, but as soon as they got home and met my buxom and gorgeous sister Diva, I was so yesterday’s news.

College was the first place that I was free to write my own history. The years of being an introvert had taken their toll however, and so it wasn’t until senior year that I actually started getting more social.

That’s the background…now here are the guys who after my years of being highly selective and ever picky made it to the title of my boyfriend. For anonymous purposes, I won’t use their real identities, but will be known henceforth as:

The Fuckwit: He was Nigerian, we met freshman year, first semester in college in Nigeria. We both moved to the US approximately a few months apart and re-connected, writing letters and talking on the phone remembering our classmates in Nigeria. I think if anything, we must have clicked because we were both foreigners in a strange new land but came from a similar background. He introduced romance into our friendship in the 2nd year, and here was when his fuckery began. The Fuckwit had a girlfriend in Nigeria, and for the next couple of years, it was this long litany of, “I want to be with you but I don’t want to break up with my girlfriend“. He was really wishy-washy about me, turning it on hot and heavy when things were bad with his girl back home; and then backtracking once I thought he was seriously into me. This is actually where I learned my first dating rule…Thou shalt not be into someone who isn’t as into you. The demise of the relationship was when he got married to the girlfriend after promising that he was going to go to Nigeria to break up with her. See ya later Fuckwit.

The Asshole: Reeling from that disappointment, I headed into a deep serial dating phase. A few months later, I met the Asshole, a fellow nurse that was really nice initially but once you got to know him turned into a huge asshole. Diva called it from the start, but I was too naive to realize the violent tendencies he exhibited signaled deeper troubles. He was really good when I was sick (after all he is a nurse), he even managed to start an IV in my hand when the ICU nurses couldn’t. However, once he got out of the hospital, he was like Hyde. Till tomorrow, I will regret that he was the guy that dis-virgined me. I won’t even go into the levels of his assholed-ness. Man—that was a tragedy of epic proportions. The Goddess was watching out for me because he was history by our 6th month. Second dating rule…Thou shalt not date bad boys—they are bad for a reason.

The Nitwit: Okay, this kinda tacky because he was actually one of the smarter guys I’ve dated up to that point. He was intelligent in alot of things, but in relationships?? Homeboy got a big fat F. He knew how to play the ‘perfect boyfriend’ part that I didn’t even realize that it was an act until about the 3rd month. The Nitwit was still in love with his ex of 18 months ago. Yowza. I only fell sick once during the 7 months we were together, and that was all it took for the Nitwit to have a realization that he wasn’t man enough to deal with my illness for the rest of his life. He broke up with me a month after that with no good reason given, just that he didn’t feel I was the ‘right woman for him.’ A year later he admitted that it was because he was scared of dealing with the sickle cell, it freaked him out and he knew that he would start resenting me eventually because of it. Once again, big ups to the Goddess upstairs for watching out for me. I dodged a bullet with that one. Dating rule…Thou shalt not date someone in love with someone else.

The Mind Fucker: Under normal circumstances, I would never have looked at the Mind Fucker let alone dated him. But I just moved to a new state, away from all my family and friends and guess what happens? I fell deathly ill. He came through during the 2 weeks of my hospitalization, and for the fact that I had just met him and he showed up that rose him in my estimate. Unfortunately, it turned out that his niceness was just an overcompensation for the confidence and integrity that he lacked. Because of his low self esteem, he found ways to belittle my feelings to the point that we were just playing a crazy game of emotional chess. As you can see, not a recipe for something built to last and in less than 3 months it self destructed.

Finito.


Okay…it’s not over there…I’ve got to tell you about Mr. Wonderful. But he deserves a post all by himself.

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1 Comment

  1. Curious Georgina on December 19, 2015 at 7:35 am

    I loved your post, definitions of Mr. Wrong and the lessons learned from the encounter with each wrong guy for you. I am working on a book, similar context. I did not see the Mr. Wonderful post. Looking forward to reading it.



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