“I believe beauty is invested in the soul within, and not in the hues with which God may choose to paint your skin.”
These are some of the many beautiful words Jimi said to me in our many conversations. Conversations that would go on for hours and hours as we learned the intricate details of each other’s very existence.
I loved talking to him. Smart, witty, charming … he was everything I’ve never had in a man.
We started chatting two months ago, after I put up that post on my blog. He followed me on Twitter, said he liked the way my mind worked. Well, I followed back. The DM’s began, and very soon it transcended to phone calls. No, I do not use a Blackberry. I find the constant BBM thing annoyingly impersonal and frankly, I can’t afford the 5k per month & I’m not a fine girl so there’s no maga lined up waiting to pay for me.
Yes. I said it. I’m not good looking at all. I may have a good body, slim waist, round behind & nicely shaped breasts, but I found early in life, that it’s not enough to make any guy wanna look at me. And the ones that do, don’t want to be seen in public with me. Don’t worry, I know. And I’ve accepted it. I don’t bother with the “created in God’s image” crap that everyone spews. I don’t want to believe God has a face that never inspires any other sexual position besides “doggy”.
But Jimi was different. He said he loved my mind. He said he didn’t care how I look. I tried to warn him, but he kept saying he wouldn’t focus on outer beauty. He refused to let me send him my pictures. He said he’d “rather let your voice and your written words paint a portrait on the canvas of my imagination”
*sigh* such beautiful words…
We decided to meet, after like 3 weeks of talking everyday. We made plans to catch up at E-Center, and then go to a bar somewhere close. He said he looked forward to it… so did I. Finally, someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be with me.
The day came, I did the best I could to look really good (fat chance), and set out to meet him…
I got to E-Center, sent him a text.
Me: “sorry I’m late. Just got here, where are you?”
Him: “I’m on the cinema floor with a friend. Come up 🙂”
Me:“Okay, what’re you wearing?… so I know who I’m looking for.”
Him: “Red & blue T-shirt, black jeans.”
I saw him immediately I got up. Casually good looking, tall, nice body, amazing smile… I walked around so I could come up behind him. I heard him talking with his friend… that voice! The voice that had kept me awake for so many nights…
I tapped his shoulder. He turned around…
“Hi, Jimi. I’m Rolake.” I said with a smile.
The smile left his eyes. Replaced by… shock, dawning recognition…and, as he looked at his friend, embarrassment.
“Jimi? Rolake? We spoke on the phone? I just texted you?” I said …wondering what was going on.
And then he said it; “Sorry, I don’t think I know you…”
Nothing could have prepared me for this. “Jimi how can you not know me? Abi, isn’t your name Jimi?” I asked him with obvious confusion on my face. He looked at me, & I could see the shame on his face as he said “Yeah, I’m Jimi. But I really don’t know you. Maybe you havr the wrong Jimi. Sorry, we’re late for our movie. Tony let’s go.”
And he turned and left me standing there.
He sent me a text 5 minutes later, with only two words; “I’m sorry.”
I never heard from him again.
A lot of times, my friends and I have joked about meeting a girl for thw first time, and she wasn’t good looking, we’d form not knowing her. I thought about that recently, and the sheer superficiality of it worried me. So this, this is the possibility of how the shoe might feel on the other foot.
So what do you think about all this? Rolake, Jimi? Share your comments, and if you have any similar experiences you wanna share, please do.
Have a good weekend people.
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