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Tuesday, 28 January 2014

BURNT OUT VIII






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The first sight that greeted Esther as she logged in to her Facebook home page were the pictures of George and Pokua in which George was tagged……………………

Even Miriam had questions about the mysterious female in the picture on Facebook.
“Who is that girl with George in those pictures on Facebook?” she didn’t need to qualify ‘girl’ with beautiful; it was an unspoken truth.
“Her name is Pokua.” Esther answered without further explanations. She hoped Miriam would stop fishing and she did. After a few more futile tries from her to get more from Esther, she let the matter be. Esther’s thoughts wouldn’t let the issue rest though. She thought of all the possible reasons why it was harmless for there to be an alliance between George and Pokua and she found none. After finding no reasonable excuse for what she saw in the pictures, it was easy for her mind to create fillings for the hollow pie she’d been given and she filled the empty spaces up with her imagination. Her encounter with the man of God weeks back no longer seemed like a joke. Since she was supposedly not talking to George, she willed herself not to call him and ask for explanations.

It became a recurring nightmare she had anytime she slept; the lady behind George in the prophecy finally unveiled and she didn’t seem like one Esther could beat easily in any ongoing battle. Esther woke up each time scared that her worst fear was playing itself out right before her eyes and she didn’t have the power to stop it. Whether it was the prophecy coming true or just an unfortunate succession of events accidentally finding her address, she wasn’t sure. After two weeks of answering: “What gives you that idea?” to Miriam’s: “Did you guys have a fight or something?” she finally called George. She called his cell three times and he didn’t pick up on all counts, neither did he call back that afternoon, or evening or the next day. On the evening of the next day, she got a second shock, not unlike the one she got with the pictures on Facebook. Right there on her Linked-In notifications panel was the suggestion that she ‘congratulate George Oppong on his new job.’ She stared in awe at the news.

She saw how she could forgive, understand and explain away a picture of her boyfriend and another girl but how could she get past the hurt of having to find out such a relevant piece of his life from a social network? She, his girlfriend for years, and there she was thinking they had something special. Finding out this way, it didn’t really matter if in fact she was the last to find out or not. It hurt her either way. How did they get to where he wouldn’t share such an important event in his life with her? Could she blame everything on the infamous male ego this time too? She wouldn’t even get herself started on that small bit about him not returning her calls. All the fantasies she had for when one or either of them would get a job and how they might have celebrated the news. It seemed like such a long time ago.

For three more successive days, she continued calling George’s phone without anyone picking up and no one bothering to call back either. That hurt her pride and she started entertaining thoughts of getting back at him in the same manner he’d dealt to her. She soon discarded that idea and decided to pay him a visit instead. She couldn’t find him at home when she got there. After an hour’s wait, she got back home. She walked back home, imagining all she would say to him when she laid eyes on him.
It was a month later before she believed herself up to the task of going to his house again. This time, he was at home and as soon as he let her in, he put on a fresh shirt, sending her the message that he was getting ready to go out.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked, eyeing him.
“Yeah.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out?”
“Did you have plans of going out or did my presence here just precipitate that desire?”
“What do you want, Esther?”
“How about an explanation as to why you have refused to answer any of my calls?”
Her presence there was irritating him. He knew how to get rid of her and he’d probably need to use that knowledge but he wanted her to get angry enough and leave. Let the burden of their breakup be on her and not him.
“I was busy.” He answered. He looked at her. She was wearing flats as usual. She suddenly seemed so uninteresting compared to Pokua.
“Doing what?” she interrupted his musings. He knew how much she hated one worded answers and it seems today, for some reason he wanted her to get angry. She suspected what his reason was and she had no intention of making things easier for him.
“Working.”  He answered. She pretended not to know this. She started to congratulate him, just to keep up with the pretense but as soon as she opened her mouth to talk he interrupted her.
“Esther, we need to talk.” Well, isn’t that just original. ‘We need to talk’ like hell!!!
“This isn’t working.”
“What isn’t working, George?” oh God! This isn’t happening to her. She is not ‘that girl’ a guy says that to. Outwardly, the anger she was trying to hold in check was getting to be a bit too much than she expected. This wasn’t how she had thought things would work out but it seemed it was already too late to do much except go through the next few minutes without losing any more of her self esteem than she’d already lost.
George had been in a number of similar situations and somehow, the girls always ask who the other woman is. Right now, he felt very protective of Pokua and he hoped for Esther’s own sake that she doesn’t direct her anger at her. She might just find out how deep his feelings for Pokua really go if she asks the magic question: “who is she?”
“Our relationship isn’t working.” He answered.
“Our relationship isn’t working? Really? That is the best breakup line you could come up with?” she asked. And that made him angry. That condescending attitude of hers.
“Yes, Esther. It’s the best I could do. I’m seeing someone else.” His ego just overruled his need to protect Pokua and he threw that piece of info at her.

After he said that, tears quickly pooled in her eyes, threatening to fall but she would be damned if she let him see her cry, when he was the one in the wrong. She gathered anger around her like a cloak and shielded her face with an indifferent smile. She seemed to be saying: ‘this is as far as I let you come close’. He could see she had shut him out. He didn’t really care, he just wanted to be free of her.
“Aren’t you forgetting something though? Shouldn’t you add the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech to it? To make this scene a classic?” she was goading him and he knew it but still.
“Esther, do you mind? I’m going out now.” He said. Without another word, Esther turned, picked up her purse from where she had left it and walked out……………….  


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