JET- (Jesus, Ernie & Turi)- A True Love story


JET- (Jesus, Ernie & Turi)- A True Love story

Real men risk rejection. What do you do when you have thrown all the signs possible to show the girl of your dreams that you like her? You wait, that is what you do. You man up and wait till you’re bored to tears waiting for her to say yes. You could throw more signs her way and risk them boomerang and hit you out cold in the head when you see her walk into the sunset with another man; even your best friend. Or you could simply wait. Whether you like it or not, you just have to give a lady her space and her time. You are asking for her heart. She certainly won’t give it to sloppy Mr. Butter-Fingers.

But does everybody wait? The answer in my situation demands me to say both yes and no. I asked Waturi to be my girlfriend on the 5th of May 2009. The very question drained half of my emotional energy. The pause she gave knocked out the remaining half and I was running on reserve power! All men must risk rejection in this point in life, in this point in history. She is the constant and you man are the variable.

Hard to believe that Turi and I had a big fight on the 4th of May. The day before I asked her out. She liked me to bits and was confusing me half the time with contrary body language. The feeling was mutual but I feared rejection like the plague. So on the 4th of May after we had spent a nice afternoon in the city, I handed her a poem I had written. It was the determining factor to my asking her out. The ball would be in her court. Her reaction to the poem would tell me if she really liked me. If she glowed, I would shift to gear two and ask her out. If she freaked out, I would equally freak out and run into the horizon denying authorship of the blasted romantic words. This poem took days to craft. If this were post-medieval Romance, Shakespeare would shut up shop and lose business.

Turi read the poem. And she confirmed my fears. I was in a lovelorn. She frowned upon finishing the piece I had written and I too frowned in horror.

Oh no, she does not feel the same way!

Turi asked me why I wrote it.

Why I wrote it!

I was bamboozled! Hoodwinked! Beguiled even!

I had given my heart, time and energy for her to feel nothing or even say a thank-you to requite for the days spent in writing it. I mumbled words that surely made me look worse than my baby cousin Tito drooling the alphabet.

I couldn’t give up yet. So I tried to test her feelings again. You now see the full picture of fear of rejection. I told her that a friend of mine had asked me if I liked her and I had said no.

The calm before the storm.

Turi stared at me for a full three count before I saw a sparkle of tears lube her pretty eyes. It was then that I realized that my selfish fear of rejection was actually prime evil. I had just broken her heart. She turned away so that I wouldn’t see her tears. She stifled a cry as she dried her eyes with her sweater.

What had I done?

She began to walk home not wanting to see my beguiling face, ever! It then struck me hard in the brain cells! Was I crazy?

Of course she likes you! Now look at what you’ve done!

I pursued the damsel in distress. I was both villain and hero. Plundering and rescuing. Double-mindedness is a cancer I tell you. Turi would have no more say from me. I insisted and it erupted into a mild disagreement. She wanted answers and I was still speaking gibberish. She went home resolved never to like jerks like Ernest Wamboye. I went home, vowing never to break a heart like Waturi Wakairu’s.

On the night of the 4th, Turi cried herself to tears as the jerk soaked in guilt. Jerk decided to make it up. He could never undo the hurt but he could make it up. So, he decided to text her first. Meanwhile, Turi wrote all the questions that bothered her about the undecided man she loved with all her heart. And as she wrote the final question and prayed to God, text messages began to pour into her phone answering every question she had written down. It was like a scripted play. Was this really happening? She dried her tears as she read each text on her Nokia. She smiled.
It was going to be okay.

Turi wrote back her goodnight text message. She even put a smiley face. She seemed to be excited for some odd reason. I had simply been frank with her concerning all she wanted to know but I never asked her out. Not yet.
The rejection was a part of life. And for a beautiful woman such as Turi, it was a worthy rejection. I kicked out my pride, squashed my ego and ironed my best pair of jeans and fitting shirt. May the 5th 2009 here we come.

Lesson one; real men risk rejection.

For Part 2 click here