#boandi

We broke it off on Friday.

I had wanted us to spend the weekend together and had planned each day with precision. I called at about 7pm. Bo was still at work.

”Very busy right now. Can I call you later?”

I didn’t get to say what I wanted before he hung up.

I had thought he could pick me up on his way home.

And so I settled by the television and watched two episodes of The Real Housewives of Atlanta.
Next I knew I was waking up and it was 10: 20pm.

I reached for my phone, it didn’t show anyone had called. “Gosh, Bo really is busy!”

My weekend bag was packed and sitting in the chair. Should I drive there myself?
That didn’t look like a good idea and so I waited. And waited.

An hour later, I decided to call. I was cold and disappointed. My plan had included a cuddle in the sofa as we watched a good movie I had picked.

No answer.

Ten minutes. I called again.

Bo's voice was sleep-ridden.

“Oh, Terry, I’m sorry. I meant to call you back, but I got so busy and forgot.”

“It’s okay (but it was not OK!). So, are you still at work?”

“Ummmmm… (now that was a long ummmmmm….) No, I’m at home.

“Home? I thought we could spend the weekend together and that’s why I called earlier. I wanted to ask you to pick me up.”

Silence.

“Honey, are you there?”

“Yes,” he grunted.

“I’m sorry Terry. Not this weekend. I’m tired, and really need to rest. You know next week is going to be really grueling with the trips upcountry.”

“Oh, I wish you had told me. But look, we could spend some time together, I promise I will let you rest, I’ll cook for you, I’ll carry my computer and can watch movies and then…”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to. I have food in the fridge left over from last night. I can warm that.”

I was disappointed. But a last-ditch attempt would not hurt.

“Honey, I miss you. It’s been some time, remember last week you had that wedding and the other weekend it was the family gathering, then when ... .”

“Terry, no, I can’t. Can we leave it at that? Please, I’m exhausted.”

I felt my heart thud. This was a scenario that had played out before and when I discovered what had  happened, I had called it quits.

There had been another woman. He admitted that it was a one-off, that’s what he called it, a ‘one-off’, who didn’t have anywhere to spend the night and so she had called on him and he had only one bed in the house and she had come on to him and because he had had a few drinks, they ended up sleeping in one bed but nothing had….

I hadn’t wanted to hear the rest. After fuming for two months, I had allowed him to wangle his way into my heart again. He wooed me back with a road-trip to Fort Portal, to a nice comfortable hotel with an old-fashioned bathtub. He wined and dined me into his arms, promising that nothing would come between us ever again.

But he had been cold and distant over the last two weeks and my guard was up. Could he be seeing her again? Should I have cause to worry? Maybe he really was tired. But again, he had been bad before and so…”

“Okay, I won’t bother you again.”

I looked at my weekend bag sitting forlornly on the chair.

It was saying to me there was no way I could give this up without a fight. “Fight for your man Terry, fight. I have been waiting in the wardrobe for three months, and now you want to tell me we can’t go? C’mon girl!”

“I’m sorry Terry, I’ll see if I can come over next weekend.”


Weekend! Seven more days!

“Look, you don’t have to pick me up, I can drive to your home in the morning. I really do want to spend time with you. I’ve missed you so much."

“Sorry Terry.”

My hackles rose. I was not going to take this rubbish any more. I was going to be selfish and have it my way.

“News flash Bo. I’m done with this. Really I am.”

“What do you mean?” Now he was awake.

“You heard me Bo. I’ve been holding on, being very patient with you. I know you’re avoiding me. You could say I am being selfish, I don’t care right now. What I know is, I am tired of feeling like this and, you know.... anyway, crap! So… so long Bo. Good luck!”

And I hang up, hot and flustered, feeling at a loss.
I was really angry. I got myself a glass of water and threw in five cubes of ice. Maybe it would help me to cool off.

I lay back in the chair and turned the volume on the TV.  

Kasta I had the Real Housewives to keep me company.

Ever since THAT incident, yes, THAT incident, I had been having my doubts anyway. Actually, THAT woman was keeping him company this weekend. I was certain.

Should I drive over and prove for myself?

Sounded good, but I would first have to explain to the askari who would have to call Bo and inform him that somebody was here to see him. Bad idea.

One and a half episodes and three more glasses of water and ice and a series of tortured thoughts later, I was feeling sorry for my actions.

I knew I had acted rashly.


I needed to say I was sorry.

Poor guy. I hadn’t even given him a chance to plead.

By the time I fell asleep, I was a mix of emotions, most of them guilty.

I don’t know how many times I had typed “I’m sorry” but had deleted the text.

I spent the night in the chair with the television on.