About love

Dravil Duke

This thing called love really fascinates me a lot. What is even more shocking is how a love story turns from a happy, exciting adventure to a sad, tragic, and painful experience.

I bet we have all seen a girl in love. Her eyes sparkle like spring water fresh from a valley, deep in the mountains. Her skin is edible. A smile from her can literally light up the whole world. Her joy is often as sexy as fuck. And man, do they have a sense of hope? sense of hope! And how, in the end, this hope is dashed.

And have you met a man in love? A man who thinks he has met the woman of his dreams?

 

"Dravil, huyo manzi n mnoma maze.He gets along with my boys; she is so cool; she cooks well; ni momma hana drama; amechill "

I have my boys who think they have won a jackpot, the expectation of a wife (which is rare, of course). They chest thump, giving this woman credit, and I love them inwardly because I know very soon the narrative will change.

 

The guy will rarely hang out with his clique. They are the type of guys who will leave us single guys at the party and go home with their bae to judge, the the single dudes.

More often than not, you will spot the dude accompanying his missus for shopping, or you will spot them chatting in a lecture hall, sharing memes. They laugh. They do everything together.

 

And man, the photoshoots. By the way, never take pictures together. Because you will eventually break up. The photos will be in your digital galleries, and we can all agree that the internet never forgets, and the chances of the internet mocking you in the future are extremely high. Imagine staring at a snap of a person who is the source of your pain and heartbreak. It is never a nice experience, especially on a Monday morning when you are still nursing your weekend hangover and you are in a foul mood.

 

Anyway, man, love is a stupid thing.

 

At the onset of a relationship, you are both hopeful. You build castles in the air. After particularly an amazing night of love making, she lies on your chest and you gossip about Maina’s relationship and talk a good game as well. Into the night. In the morning, she makes pancakes, and I mean good pancakes. She brews tea well. and soaks beans for dinner with chapatis. The beans will be cooked with ingredients  imported from heaven. She cooks dinner herself, listening to her  classic R&B playlist as you stream a boring Manchester United match on your laptop.

 

What makes my ribs hurt is how this shit moves from this state of happiness, triple organisms, and all that fun to a point of hatred that sometimes leads to murder.

 

This blog is particularly inspired by a party picture in my Google Drive that I stumbled upon. Man. On that party day, the love and passion in the girl’s eyes were deeper than the deepest part of the ocean. She was so happy. Nobody who attended that party (which they call an anniversary) did not go home envious.

 

Presently, it is an open secret that she is cheating. And the guy is either arrogant or he knows and is not moved by it. But soon the way will be known. And from there, it will go down just like any relationship here in Moi nowadays.

 

One of my boys had this beautiful woman, an elegant one that my naked eyes had never seen, with the best name. I like how the girl had that hourglass figure, and I can confidently say that she was 10. So earlier this month, I ran into the lady and asked how they were fairing, and was heartbroken to learn she walked out of the relationship (that nearly translated into a marriage) after enduring a lot of emotional abuse from the dude, who simply can’t zip it up.

 

I kept wondering why someone would abuse or cheat on such a woman. But I wondered, "Why not?" Like, life offers no effin’ guarantee.

 

Nice men get cheated on and are the most abused emotionally here. Man, never be nice. Man. Never simp.

Nice women are either single or still get abused and cheated on with flagrant impunity.

 

In the end, we are all unhappy with those we love the most until we rediscover love, if we ever do.

Often, we reach a certain point where we become cynical that love does not exist. The older we grow, the more it hits us that it was an illusion. A mirage. A horizon that you will never touch.

 

I read more about Arthur Schopenhauer, a philosopher behind romantic love. I read more about him and he demoralizes me. Simply, there is no hope for humanity in that font. Passionate love today is passionate hate tomorrow.

 

And it is disgusting when love is replaced with disdain and contempt. You have not lived until you become shit in the eyes of your lover. And man. Some people know how to radiate hate and contempt when love has vanished.

 

But the question is, Can relationships survive in today’s world? Can people, at the very least, guarantee each other up to 70% love and respect?