Why Settle for Sparks When You Can Have Fireworks?

32There was a cold demeanor about him. You could feel it in the quiet and stuffy sitting room we were in. He sat a safe distance from me, as did I from him, an invisible wall between us. The conversation came out flat and was awkward. They were long pauses and moments just short of me whistling.

We had been chatting for quite a while and had built up a frenzy towards us meeting. And here we were on our first meet and it felt like a funeral. I thought he was good looking, I found him sexually attractive, but I could tell the feeling wasn’t mutual.

There wasn’t the usual smile I received from guys when they gazed me at first sight. There wasn’t a shred of interest in his eyes at all, or the familiar glint of lust. It was just a blank stare, an indifference worse than hate.

“So do you want to go into the room?” he asked, as though out of obligation, like it seemed the proper thing to do. There wasn’t any keenness there or excitement over the prospects of what lay when we were alone in the bedroom.

I feigned excitement and uttered a high-pitched, “Yay.”

He found that amusing. Was the ice breaking?

The sex was bland; it really felt like one was having sex with a dead body at rigor mortis. He was stiff, and there was such disinterest in his eyes. They never met mine, and my kiss met clamped lips and was never reciprocated. The rimming was spectacular though, even though it seemed more based on routine than an actual act itself.

He came too early, and quickly dressed. We were back to the hot, stuffy parlour. An awkward silence descended.

“I have to go now,” I said.

He seemed unfazed. He offered to give me transportation fare, but I declined, something I always do.

I stopped over at the mall on my way home and watched The Hobbit movie. He was far away from my mind, and I thought nothing of him.

I was slightly surprised to see he had messaged me when I got home. He’d asked to know if I was home safely and I replied in the affirmative.

Then I dropped ever-so casually the fact that the sex we had was very frigid and lackluster. He replied with a curt sorry.

I felt patronized, which is the worst feeling one can experience. I saw him as a wonder and a mystery. He clearly didn’t find me attractive, and I wondered why. Most men do and quite a few women. I was just fresh from having the most passionate and amazing sex with someone a few days back, and had barely survived a date rape the previous week from a man, who was so keen on bedding me, he actually threatened me. And just that afternoon, I’d gotten a few dead-on looks while sauntering through the mall. So clearly, it wasn’t my aesthetic.

What was it then? I had to know.

I told him that it was so obvious that the type of sex we had was one you have with someone you don’t fancy.

“Kinda,” he wrote back.

“So you clearly didn’t like me but chose to have sex with me regardless? I’d rather you didn’t, you do not have to patronize me, especially in such an obvious way,” I wrote stoically.

“The problem isn’t you…” he replied.

“Then what was it?” I asked

“Sparks didn’t fly.”

I stared at his reply, trying to decipher what they implied.

“It’s not like you are ugly or anything,” he went on. “Actually you are really cute. But I just didn’t feel anything. Sparks didn’t fly…” he concluded.

I took a deep breath. There was a genuineness in that one sentence, an honesty that felt like a breath of fresh air, like a splash of ice cold water on a hot and humid day.

“Thanks for being really honest, I really appreciate it,” I wrote back. I deleted him from my BBM after he had read that. It seemed fitting and appropriate.

It was the last day of the year and I was faced with my most profound epiphany yet. Sometimes sparks don’t just fly, I guess.

It was the proverbial ‘One man’s meet is another man’s poison’ come to life. I rationalized that we would always be one man’s poison, regardless of how palatable a feast others see us.

I wasn’t hurt or shamed. I was a bit amused. It felt like nearing the end of an intriguing novel, only to discover there was a part you’d missed. It felt oddly refreshing seeing things from a whole new perspective.

I have other dates to attend to and guys to meet in the coming days. I’ve decided to follow my arrow where ever it lands, whether sparks fly or not.

The bae is just a penis away, I like to think.

***

I woke up the next morning to find Obinna’s message on my phone.

“HAPPY NU YEAR!” [sic] it read.

I rolled my eyes and sent a quick and brief ‘Same to you’.

I wasn’t too keen on getting to know Obinna, certainly not after seeing his pictures. There was such an Igbotic quality about them. He looked very bottom, pouted in his pics and was light-skinned. Light-skinned guys never did it for me, especially not ones that looked bleached, as is Obinna’s case.

“What are you doing today?” he asked.

It dawned on me then that I wasn’t doing anything that day, nor had I any plans. It was New Year’s Day, and I was faced with the prospect of spending it indoors, watching old episodes of The Walking Dead.

“Nothing,” I wrote.

“We could hang out, at the mall…maybe catch a movie.”

I read Obinna’s message and figured anything was better than staying indoors all day.

“Okay,” I replied. And we agreed to meet in an hour’s time.

I took my time while getting dressed; there wasn’t the usual excitement or nervousness that one would expect while going on a blind date, mostly because I wasn’t expecting much, especially if he looked anything like his pictures. I dressed in all black, I woke up that morning feeling really fat and opted for a loose black Tee and black jeans, because black after all is slimming.

I got to the mall and he called, as if on cue, to say he was at the Shoprite district of the mall and briefly described what he was wearing.

“I’m the guy with the gray T-shirt and the face cap,” he said.

The mall was a crowded mess, it felt like I was in Balogun market. Excited children zoomed all around, trampling on me in the process. I was mentally going on about how I probably should have just stayed home, when I saw him…

The guy with the gray T-shirt and the face cap.

He stood out from the crowd. In the midst of the chaos, I was drawn to him. He exuded such gravitas, and I couldn’t believe this was him. Where was the bleached Top-wannabe I was expecting?  He had a tall and imposing figure, wide shoulders and caramel complexion that shone. Whatever cream he was using was good. Safe to say he was also handsome.

He spotted me, waved and walked over. I suddenly felt sheepish and self conscious. Maybe I should have done a double check at the mirror before I left home?

I looked up to him and we both smiled. His lips were dry and chapped from the Harmattan; I thought they added to his imposing yet handsome disposition. His smile put me at ease. He seemed happy to see me.

We connected almost instantaneously. He found everything I said funny, and always had a question to ask. Even with the calamity that was the mall, in my mind, it was just the two of us, no one else existed. Each time our eyes met, I longed to kiss him. I wanted to lay my hand on his chest.

Over ice cream, he asked if I had a boyfriend. There was a genuine interest in how it was asked, like a curiosity that could not be contained. It was also a question I was dying to ask him but didn’t want to come across as too forward.

“No,” I said.

“Why?”

I couldn’t tell if that was surprise or caution in his voice. “I just don’t,” I said, ending the words with a laugh.

He said he was single too. I asked if it was by choice or by circumstance, and he said the former.

We had walked around the mall for what seemed like a million times and I told him I had to be leaving.  He looked genuinely surprised. He told me to stay a bit as I didn’t have anything else doing, and he was here keeping me company.

And then just like that, he held my hand.

In public.

My heart raced. It was a unique feeling, something completely alien to me. Walking hand in hand with another man in public. I was terrified. I felt like a vampire exposed to the rays of the sun. I wanted to let go, but I couldn’t. We passed a large mirror as we strolled hand in hand, and I caught an image of us. It was a beautiful sight; it almost brought tears to my eyes. I knew moments like these were few and far between. It was an image I never envisioned in my life time, certainly not in Nigeria.

I didn’t want that moment to end. It felt like a scene from a cheesy romance movie. Charlie XCX’s Boom Clap resonated in my mind, and everything else was in slow motion except the two of us.

In that moment, sparks didn’t just fly. We made fireworks. I never wanted to let go

***

I got home later that afternoon, excited and twirling about the place like a Disney princess. He’d called twice while I was jumping buses on my way home; my phone was on silent and I had missed his calls.

I put on my data and his Whatsapp massaged popped up.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” it read.

“Me tooooooo!!!!”  I wrote and attached a lame WhatsApp emoji of me blushing.

And just like that 2015 was off to a fantastic start!

Written by Chizzie

72 thoughts on “Why Settle for Sparks When You Can Have Fireworks?

  1. Sometimes pictures lie. That’s why i don’t judge anyone based on his pics, i hv to see u in real before i can conclude anything with u. Nice post Chizzie, i love that.

  2. Lol. Chizzie! First, your description of igbotic guys was just spot on. The way they chat and spell words with the very annoying questions they ask. And don’t get me started with their pictures and PMs!

    Second, don’t judge by pictures (sometimes).

    Third, tell me about a Nigerian gay guy that answers “yes” to the question of having a boyfriend and i will tell you about how i shit diamonds.

  3. Nice one Chizzie. I had a good start to 2015 in the department of meeting someone but it’s not close to being perfect. Time will tell I believe.

    And, igbotic? I have problems with hearing that.

    Dunno, why do I have this feeling that I know you?

  4. Look befr u leap*ook* bro.SINGLE?!!! Dts not a biggy,which guy wanna tell u he is hooked when he hasn’t felt what rimming u tastes like????*sighs…rolls eyes from imo to bahamas*Dennis,king and gad pls lecture this boy on SINGLE 101

  5. Chizzie, the sheer discriptive analysis displayed on this piece is next to none! This is a good read. But bia nne m, you somehow forgot to mention where you see all these men you seem to have a roster for? Please that aspect to me is the foundation upon which this tale ought have been consolidated now, or you wan dey waka enjoy them alone abi? Continnu!

    • Eziokwu. You saw too ehn? Funny how we still like to roll about in the hay after our moments of epiphany. Dick business is serious business o.

  6. Chizzie.

    I find it instructive that Pinky relates this story to the discussion on Private Demons, from Saturday.

    Which is why I’m wondering why you were shocked the first guy didn’t find you attractive. I’d always assumed that, as far as looks go, a person is either liked or not liked – and in-between the world does not end. Perhaps I’m mistaken.

    So…what’s the real issue here? Where do you have self-esteem invested? In physical looks – yours and others’?

    Just asking.

    • My thoughts exactly.
      If a “MAN” only likes you for your looks, you’re doomed (I choose to believe that)
      Agreed, you’re cute (your words not mine) but face it… That might be the only defence mechanism you have for esteem issues. And a facade for what isn’t truly there.

      What do you have inside?
      What makes sparks fly?

      There’s someone on this blog (who I met outside this blog) that doesn’t give me fireworks or sparks…
      He gives me exactly what I need.

      A Nuclear Bomb!

    • lol maybe if u paid enough attention to detail you’ll see that both narratives all happened in the full glare of day, eh, not night

  7. Igbotic

    My least favorite word/phrase in the whole world, right after “emasculate” and ” straight acting”.

    Yes I am igbo but do we condemn britons for being too ” british”?

    • @Dennis – muah!! A big kiss to you dear! I dislike that phrase ‘igbotic’ – yes we all like to act all polished/posh but i have no reason to be ashamed of my ethnicity. No one looks down on a french or italian man for their accents while speaking English or for being too ‘french’ or ‘italian’
      Nice read anyway … keep it up Chizzie

      • I don’t care about the accent at all. Infact, with some guys it might be a turn on. What i consider “igbotic” is the rail their train of thought rides on. How they think, things they say, their perspective on different issues.

      • @Ace,pray what perspective on issues is now considered “igbotic”?.
        What marks certain perspective to issues as being “igbotic” and others not?

    • Eeeeeeee. Stop it there o. Just stop abeg. O ta ba yin e ranti nisiyi. ‘Yoruba market woman’ make sense to you?
      Wo, Chizzie, you have done a WONDERFUL job with this one. Who says u are not fair? Please make the next reference as explicit as possible. More like this we shall see in this new year. I mean the stories of course

    • Isi mgbaka?
      Lol

      But seriously I don’t get it. If some is educated and speaks good english only that when he talks you know it’s igbo, what is wrong with that?

      Meanwhile some people get on youtube and practice foreign accents. So that one is cool? Naaaa

    • Please don’t wash me Kryss… But I can imagine your igbotic voice through our chats on twitter… *stifles laughter* *runs away*

    • That’s the lot of the African man. Yoruba against Igbo and vice versa all in our foolish display of internalized inferiority complex.

  8. Chizzie, If its leisure mall, Then I saw U dat day ….I was out with my bf on a date at the mall, when we walked past the elevator, we caught a glimpse of two guys holding hands …. All we cud do was “Awwwwww”

  9. Hahahahahahaha… Can I just say something , you a hoe dear.. 😂😂😂..
    Totally relatable experiences though..
    It was a fun read…

  10. Oh wow! Would have never guessed it was Chizzie! You Never struck me as the two-bus hopping, data conserving type especially with that high flying job at the reformed bank that keeps you very busy…
    Let’s hope the relationship can be sustained, it’ll be nice to have a googly-eyed, dreamy you for a change…

  11. Chizzie this ur piece sweet die! I could relate to most of it – one man’s meat will always be another man’s poison- it’s just that human nature and human pride always make us focus on the ones that don’t find us appealing, while forgetting the hundreds of others that would crawl on their hands and knees from here to Ouagadougou and back, if we asked them to.
    I’m glad u eventually met d “igbotic guy”(was he using someone else’s pix as his dp,or was he just not photogenic). I won’t even lie,if I don’t like someone from their pics and most especially,their chats,I wouldn’t even bother to meet them.But ur experience might make me a bit more flexible- I just might be pleasantly surprised.
    Hope it works out with this new guy (it started off on a great note, so…fingers crossed!)
    And true,true, where u dey meet all these guys wey dey ur roster,biko? Some of us haven’t even seen a “worthy” person since late last year… #AskingForAFriend

  12. Awwwwwwwwwwww! This is so sweet! Never knew Chizzie could ever have an emotional side! Thought he was the Icequeen(I c u Nuel! Lol) singing “let it go” while stepping on toes. Love is such a beautiful thing with the right person! Nd never ever judge a book by its cover cos if u do, u would never read James Hardley Chases Novels nd u would miss out big time!

  13. Help me tell them Dennis! That was how I washed one humanbeing that thought he had an opinion over my life nd even had d effontary to voice it to me last week over a whatsapp chat! He was like “u have everything. U r tall, u r fine, u r smart, use words well but you r too igbotic nd I can’t go out wit you! It murdered ur accent”. Isi mgbaka caught me with the last 2 phrases! I sparked! By time I was done tearing him to shreds, o matara ife tinka kuru pan!
    He was the main reason for my new year resolution of turning to d cleaners anyone that crosses my path in a derogatory manner!.
    How hypocritical that we gush over the French accent, copy the British nd American yet ours is lame nd bush!

  14. I am confused, I thought only unemployed people like myself and chestnut wrote articles?

    I thought some people were “too busy actually living life” to write anything?

    #AskingForThatSameFriend

    • Dennis Amudike Amuike Amunike Chinedum Macauley! Jejely carry urself one side nd stop all this sun shades u r sharing this fine morning! It is a new year biko! Repent or ask him out!

      • @Law…… I see that happening when Queen Elizabeth II is caught on camera either twerking 2 Nicki’s Anaconda or dancing Shoki!
        But come to think of it, Dennis nd Chizzie would make a fine couple! The kind dat fights everyday but u dont dare intervene cos they luuuuuuuuvvvvvvvvvv themselves!

      • Thank God i was not the only one that noticed. I feel like his “hmmms” would some day become more than all of Dennis’ posts

  15. Ok PSA : I do not have a boyfriend..and there’s a slightly macabre and gut wrenching sequel to this, I’ll try to make time out of my very busy schedule *coughs* ofcus to write it down and send it to PP

    and the whole igbotic thing, u guys need to give it a rest, I’m igbo too, and fancy myself an equal opportunity tribalist and happen to think Igbo guys r really good looking. Haven’t you heard of such a thing as being too American? or too British ..or too oriental? its not derogatory in anyway…its just a relative description of a person or thing.

    when the chips are down some ppl really are igbotic( Think: Nkiru Slyvenus) …or yoruba-ish ( Baba Suwe?) ..or too hausa-ish…or too British…bla bla bla

  16. Chizzie, this was beautifully written. I loved it! well done! I hope you get to date him, walk hand in hand into the sunset and live happily ever after. But i want to be plain with you, dear. In the initial phase of a relationship, everything feels surreal and the bae is apparently a perfect man; a flawless gem if there was ever one. This perception is what fuels the fireworks. But guess what, fire works never last for ever. Soon, the relationship enters into the stable phase. Fireworks disappear and the real person suddenly shows up. Fireworks are get replaced by a stable, level of affection (if transition is successful) or everything could just fizzle out.Physical and personality flaws become apparent, and little things that were either invisible or totally unseen become important and sometimes irritating. Many never make it into this second phase. But if one gets there, it is how one handles this phase that will determine expiry date of the relationship. In the first phase, people hide their personality flaws. Its not done deliberately, its just a product of mating behavior that is evolutionary in origin. But no one can pretend forever. In phase two, your partner gets to know the real person. Darling, feel free to be the ice queen here on this blog. But with your man, especially in phase two, keep out all ice. Love and love making is sweetest beside the hearth of the home, where there is perpetual warmth, tolerance and acceptance. Now i dont know you in person so it is very possible that you have never been an “ice queen” with your past partners. i’m only just saying..so you can watch it (in case i am right). Cos i want you to be happy…

      • Sometimes don’t u just work out a relationship from bland to extremely good? Not all relationships has sparks fly from the get go, sometimes it might just be a tiny flicker before it turns into an encompassing over the top firework! #JustSaying

    • @DM: biko chere. lol
      @Dee: Yea, you are right. But i am talking about the general pattern. And believe me, the fire works phase doesnt last long, no matter when it comes up.

  17. Great Piece….well written…as for the igbotic …I kinda find it erotic…..I once shagged a guy who ended up moaning in Igbo language…..damn it felt pleasing to the ears….

  18. Ok so Chizzie just became my fav icequeen cum bitch cum bitch. I cannot believe i am going to write this but my love for Chizzie launched itself into space after i read this. I guess he is not one of those badbelle people who talk other people down because they can’t even dream of doing what they do. I loved this article and hope to find my own Disney hand holding romance this year.
    ION
    This is the first time visiting KD with a computer. It is a lot nicer than the mobile version. #istillhaven’tgottenmydreamphone.

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