What Kelly Rowland Said

I’m falling in love with my ex and there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t really think there’s anything I really want to do about it. And that’s even assuming I ever stopped loving her in the first place. Which, if truth be told, I don’t think I ever did. What I did do however, is put my feelings on a top shelf somewhere. Somewhere high up, where I needed some kind of industrial ladder just to get to them.
Behind pretty distractions and a consuming job and friends who weren’t really friends but only people I could get drunk with. And for sometime it worked. I was oblivious to her existence. She hardly crossed my mind.
And then we started talking again. Started having those long conversations again. Started sending messages back and forth again.
And in the beginning, I was understandably cautious. I couldn’t help but wonder just what it was she was up to.
That old familiarity was beginning to creep back in and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
But I played along all the same. Just to see where it would go. But not only that. But because I missed her just as much as I suspected she missed me.
And then I saw her again and it was great. And in that moment, it all came crashing down.



In love with my ex- Kelly Rowland

Someone Get Him Something to Drink, He’s Thinking Again!

We haven’t exactly talked about it. About what it means…us sleeping together. I’m kind of reluctant to broach the subject because I don’t want her to think I expect anything because of it. And the truth is, I don’t. It was sex. With my ex girlfriend. Not “just” sex because it has never been “just sex” with her. It has always been special. By virtue of the fact that it took a pretty long time to happen. A pretty long time by today’s standards anyway. And by the time it did happen I was so emotionally invested that I couldn’t help it from being special.
And so where does that leave me? Leave us, really. I have no illusions. I know there’s no getting back together. Not yet. The timing’s not right. Won’t be for sometime yet and the fact is, right now, I don’t want to get back together. Let’s keep it casual. Like how we were before we started dating. That was the original agreement, wasn’t it?
Sure it was. But who’s to say that agreement even still stands?
Well, you know Lloyd, you could always just ask her.
Yeah, I could, but why risk breaking the tentative balance we have managed to achieve? I like the way things are right now. The frills without the head or the heartache. Plus, I feel like I’ve found my best friend again.
Sure you have, but you have to ask yourself sailor, how far can you paddle out to sea without rocking the boat?
Hmmm, that’s a pretty good question…




We had one of our long conversations today. You know, the ones where you talk about everything under the sun and nothing worth mentioning all at the same time.
The reception’s pretty bad where I am so I had to move around quite a bit to find a clear signal. I must have hung up and called back four or five times. But still, it was well worth it. I thought so anyway.
We talked and teased. Her telling me about her Friday night. Me telling her about mine. Hers obviously more eventful of the two. Another clear exhibition of alcohol induced behavior.
“Maybe you need to stop drinking.” I suggested after she had completed her tale.
“It might do you some good.”
“I know.” She had replied,
“I’m on my last days, trust me. I’m going to quit soon.”
“I hope so.”
Before hanging up for the last time I reminded her that as of the day before, we had known each other for one year. Or as I phrased it, “yesterday was exactly one year since we first met.”
She laughed.
“You’re such a stalker, you know that? How do you even remember that?”
I told her. We had been going through the pictures of that night together a few days earlier and I couldn’t help but notice the date on them.
"You know me and my attention to details.” I told her.
“Even if…that’s still freaky…ish.”
“Whatever.” I said dismissively.
“Anyway, I think its time for me to go. Got an early morning tomorrow.”
“Okay then, good night.”
“Good night.”

Call summary: 3:54

Wait, (double take) did she just say love?

“Did u even feel de slightest love 4 me Lloyd? I hv bin wonderin wat exactly it is dat u feel 4 me coz u hv bn distant eva since we left GULU. Nway nice tym n pliz take care.”

-Robinah (via text message)

4:47 pm

***

I got it on the bus. On my way back to Gulu. I had to smile. Love? Was she serious? I mean come on. It was just sex. Better for her than it was for me, I’m guessing. She was talking like a sixteen year old girl. And you have to understand, she wasn’t a sixteen year old girl. Not even close. This is a grown ass woman we’re talking about. A government job chick even. And yeah, I know government job chicks have feelings too. I wont argue with you on that but after one week? No wait, that’s not even close to the truth. Try two days on for size. Two days and she was already getting all girlfriendy on me and stuff.

And that really wouldn’t have been a problem, I might have even been able to go along with it but for the fact that I just didn’t have the capacity to fall for someone like her. Someone like her meaning someone other than my ex girlfriend. Given any amount of time. I’m fighting to get her back you see. Even if subtly. No matter what my friends may say or think about it, she’s the one I want to be with.

And so you see Robinah, honey, you didn’t have a chance. Never bank on a man who fucks you on the very first night. Because the fact is, he wont respect you in the morning.

So consider this a lesson learned sweet heart. And for what its worth, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that man. I really am. You’re just not her.

Now, for those of you out there who are wondering how I can be in love with one person and fucking someone else, let’s just say that its…complicated. Meaning that I really don’t think its worth the energy and in this case the ink to explain it to you. I can say this though, no one excites me the way that she does. No one can make my blood boil or my heart pump the way that she can. No one intrigues me, makes me laugh, messes with my head or makes me want to be a better man better than she does.

And maybe, just maybe, possibly, if I looked hard enough I could find someone who tops her in all of that. But the fact is, I don’t see any sense in searching for another, quite possibly lesser version of her when she’s standing there right in front of me. It doesn’t make any sense.

And so in conclusion, Samantha, (and yes, I know, you don’t have to say it but you’re just going to bear with me on this), baby its you.

***

“I appreciate yo honesty, hv a nice life”

-Robinah (via text message)

8:40pm

Playlist much?



1. Lesson Learned- Alicia Keys ft. John Mayor

2. I think that she knows- Justin Timberlake

3. Regrets-Jay-z

4. S.E.X. Nickelback

5. Leave out all the rest- Linkin Park

6. Youre a jerk- The new boys

7. Best I ever had- Drake

8. Number 1- R Kelly & Keri Hilson

9. Senorita- Justin Timberlake

10. Thinking of you- Katy perry

11. Intruder Alert- Lupe Fiasco

12. Hero/ Heroine- Boys like girls

13. Better than me- Hinder

The Ex-Perience

As I lay there, one eye on the television, one eye on her, I was quickly reminded of all her little nuances. In her voice, in her face and in the most miniscule of her gestures.


We were both stretched out on her old zebra print blanket, talking as if nothing had ever happened. Like it was3, 4, 5 months ago. Like there had been no move, no tears, no break up. It was like I had miraculously stepped through a wrinkle in time. A wrinkle to a better time. It made me wonder. Put a wary smile on my face. A few butterflies in my stomach as well.

Was this really happening?

I had expected it to be awkward. Even if just a little bit. And I wasn’t wrong in thinking so. The last time we had see each other it had been awkward galore.

But for some reason, this time, it hadn’t been. And for several minutes there, that had made me rather wary. A bit on the cautious side. But as my inebriation levels continued to climb (courtesy of our good friend Uganda Waragi) I became a whole lot less wary and a whole lot more receptive to the “positive vibes” (whatever the hell that means) that were coming my way…








The sex was hot. Unexpected…and so unprotected.

No glove, no love? Never even heard of it.

I fucked her with my socks on and my boxers around my ankles. What? Don’t look at me like that. I was in a bit of a hurry okay? And plus, you must have some sort of idea of how difficult it is to maneuver out of your clothes while maintaining as much lip-lip contact as possible.

I must have managed to slip them off at some point though, because I remember afterwards (estimated time being the average length of an episode of America’s Best Dance Crew…and no, that’s not as long as you may think), the knock on the door that sent us both scrambling around looking for our clothes. Socks, boxers and panties included.

And don’t worry sweetheart, I did the sensible thing and pulled out with a couple of seconds to spare. So rest easy, I’m not going to make a baby mamma out of you just yet!

Thankfully, it was a false alarm. The knock at the door that is.

By the time we were what is generally considered as “decent”, whoever it was was gone.

She assumed it was the lady who walks around the hostel selling clothes (she had already bought a cute little sweater while I was there) and so leaving the door slightly open so that some air could “circulate” (she didn’t want to announce to everyone that walked in that we had just had sex) she climbed back onto the bed.

Lying back down next to me, she picked up the remote. She had that cheeky smile of hers.

“So…what episode were we on?”