JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 7)

July 4

‘I could be staring at somebody new

Stuck in my head is a picture of you

You were the thunder, I was the rain

I wanna know if I’ll see you again

I said I love you

You said goodbye

Everything changes in the blink of an eye

It’s been a while, I still carry the flame

I wanna know if I’ll see you again…’

I remember the first time I heard those lyrics. It was a pure moment. That moment when a song connects entirely with what you’re feeling. It was when I broke up with John. I remember going to his room practically begging that he not say it’s over and that we try again, but he just told me that he was tired of trying. It hurt like crazy. It hurt like hell. It hurt so much I cried because my love for him was that strong and irrational. I don’t feel embarrassed that I cried… It helped because even as the tears fell with the realisation that what I had and cherished was over, it also made me realise that I had the chance to do something new. I tried to not spend too long being heartbroken. I had exams coming up and I refused to let something like heartbreak cause issues for my education. I threw myself into my books and the only time I’d feel pangs of longing and sadness was when I’d lay down to sleep and hug my pillow.

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 6)

June 22

There’s this guy I recently started chatting with. Ola. My, my, my… he’s got a smoking body. His face is not all that, but I can always put a paper bag over his face or close my eyes and picture someone else. Lol. Okay, it’s not that bad, but still.

I’d love to get into his pants, but I’m resisting and hesitating because he’s bi. I don’t have anything against bisexual people. It’s just that, there are some that spell trouble for you if you get involved with them, and my instincts were telling me to stay away. He’s one of those guys who will thrash as long as it’s a hole, and he has little respect for those he’s thrashed, and I don’t want to be one of his trophies. He also seems like someone who would lash out drastically, if his sexuality or masculinity is questioned. I have a friend who was outed by some bisexual guy, who carried tales about how my friend purportedly seduced him.

And to make matters worse, I found out this Ola fellow doesn’t even kiss and all that… Blergh!

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 5)

June 20

I’ve got a crack on the screen of my Note 3…one long, slightly-curved crack scarring my precious phone. The funniest part is that I dreamt about something like that happening the night before it happened. I should have gone to meet a babalawo to provide protection for the phone.

I tried searching for phone insurance in Nigeria. We don’t have that…

School has resumed for a while now…

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 4)

May 5

What to write. Lol.

Well, Duke and I seem to have improved. We talk more often now. I also got Ed Sheeran’s album and I’m loving it. I know people would have got it ages ago but I like to take my time to get albums.

I want to write a story. A nice story. About a guy who is in love with his best friend. That would just be the starting. It won’t be centered on their relationship. That won’t be realistic.

I’m beginning to question if love lasts forever. I was talking to someone and he said he’s really liking some dude but they won’t date because there is no future in it. We Nigerian gays have it bad. It’s just sex, you know. And even when we do get into a relationship, we don’t take it serious. We cheat anyhow and that’s because we feel there’s no future in being with one person.

In my opinion, future or not, when you love someone, you give it your best shot. Might not be enough but you can actually say you did and it didn’t work and have no regrets. No need to wonder what would have happened if you tried a little bit harder.

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 3)

Foreword (from the writer): Following the harsh criticisms of the previous entries on the James’ Journal, I would like to remind the readers that these entries are neither fiction nor the narration of particular salacious real life experiences. Instead, they are the musings of a twenty-something year-old male. Remember that, and try to be kinder the next time you want to drop your comments.

April 15

My mum found out I was attracted to men about three years ago. You know how women can do better jobs than FBI agents when they set their minds to do a bit of investigating. She happened to snoop around my phone and saw some texts and she called the number and a dude picked up. It’s more complicated than that but that’s another story.

She didn’t say anything about it for a while. Then one Sunday, at night, she called me into her room, asked me to shut the door and started to fire questions at me. Foolish me hadn’t deleted any of those texts and she asked me to call the number and put the call on loudspeaker. I felt so cornered and I was terrible at lying to her then. In the end, naive me admitted that I liked dudes… hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it might be.

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 2)

April 12

Duke’s travel is an almost done deal. He has dropped off his passport with the person helping him out. I feel sad about it. Not because he is going, but because of what might have been if he wasn’t going. Thankfully, I prepared my mind for this so it would not hurt too much. After I see him next week, I will tell him I am not interested in holding on to him. I’ll delete him off my BBM too. I don’t want to see pictures that will make me feel nostalgic.

Tay reckons I’m just scared of being alone. I have been with different people for the past five years of my life, and he thinks I don’t want to know what it’s like to be alone. He is a little right. But I am not one to shy away from my fears too much. If being alone is what I will be soon, then so be it. But as long as there are people I want who want me back, why should I be alone?

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 1)

Here’s another series from yet another Kito-Diaries-sian, James. It’s not fiction. It’s a Dear Diary sort of write-up, one that will afford us glimpses into the life of a brother. Here’s the debut episode. Read and enjoy.

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April 9

Love. . .

That word gives me different reactions. Sometimes it’s a “blergh!” Other times, it’s a “sigh”.

I have been in love. It hurt. But it also felt good. I couldn’t differentiate the two feelings. I felt them both intensely. And I didn’t bother to separate them either, because human love is an imperfect thing. You just enjoy and suffer whatever it gives you.

Maybe saying I was in love is a bit wrong. I still love, but it’s buried now. It had to be. For my good, for my sanity. I try not to think about then, when I felt everything would be alright as long as I had my love. Him. John. Sure, I got hurt so many times but I always got over it. I would rant and cry and be depressed but I would still look up ahead because I felt I could pull through anything as long as the other person was with me. Too bad they didn’t think the same.