10:38pm, December 25, 2024.
She DM’ed in response to a message I’d sent to a group we were both in. I’ll spare you the details but that conversation ended by 12:07am with us knowing more about each other than some two-week-long talking stages. A proper Lagos babe with a daunting conversational finesse, I’d only known her from afar, although we’d never interacted or met physically. Within the next two days, we bonded over confluent interests, podcasts, music, books, plans for the holiday, work, anything you can think of. The energy match was diabolical — even more so for the high-energy kind of babe that she is. Messi’s fan girl, football-loving, skilled-in-sticker-use, deeply humorous, incredibly unique. By January 1, she told me she was grateful to have me in her life and was looking forward to us being even closer friends. I’ve hardly made that kind of progress with someone in a short time before. We had exchanged playlists and talked non-stop for days with calls in-between. Those were heavenly days that would extend well after January 6, when I would return to Ogba’s woes. Then things would take an even more interesting turn…
Oh wait, pardon my manners. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Klaus (I have some history), and this is supposed to be my public confession about my romantic(-ish?) encounters last year. It should have come in the last week of 2025, but it’s probably better fitted to this season, with Valentine’s in our faces. Whether they were talking stages, situation-ships, or relationships, I’ll leave you to decide. And while you’re at it, judge me if you will — just don’t break the gavel in the process. Pardon me if this reads more like a diary entry than whatever you think it’s supposed to be. And also, for barraging you with details of my personal life that you didn’t ask for. Let’s just say I met some interesting people last year and learnt some interesting lessons along the way. So, where was I?
When Liking isn’t Enough
Ah, yes, Catherine. I was in ARR when we had our first video call. It was a “virtual workspace”— or so I called it. She had stuff to work on; I had my life to fight for by memorising Anatomy stuff, 90% of which I can barely remember now. She was the first person I had Spotify jams with; it was something I always looked forward to. Weeks went by, and she didn’t get tired of standing by me, offering support, and cheering me on as she repeatedly called me ‘my doctor’— ngl, my head always swelled. We spoke every single day, jammed, joked, teased, and jested. For some reason, she always loved to call me by my full government name — all three — and I always found it cute.
Did I mention she’s an Igbo babe? The first time she sent me her pictures, I screamed, “Allahu Akbar,” because God really did demonstrate His greatness in creating her. As the proper Yoruba man that I am, I promised to take her to Amala Skye whenever she came visiting. Let me spare you the long story, but by June, it became clear that we had to have the hard conversations. The truth is I liked her — a lot. And even though she was older than me, I could sense she was on to something significant with me.
But somewhere along the line, things got difficult. I resumed an intense posting in June, her phone got damaged for more than a week, and someway somehow, communication waned. Maybe I wasn’t intentional enough, or maybe I saw that I wasn’t mentally ready for the commitment that a relationship at that time in my life would require. She too had just entered University in Benin a few months earlier, and exam pressure was on her neck in no small measure. The truth is school was taking a toll on my mental health and it was affecting a lot of things, including my interactions online (one L for LDRs). I would go on to fail one of my EoPTs — the news of which, as I would later find out, further dipped our relationship. In her words later last year, she thought she was being a distraction.
Maybe I began to realise that although we had some chemistry, it wasn’t enough to make things work out. I knew that at some point she was ready for and open to a relationship, and I think a part of me was. But maybe there were certain differences between us that I just couldn’t overlook. I understood that being committed to a relationship with her meant being willing to fight against all odds. I remember her heartily saying, ‘I don’t want all the money in the world, I just want to spend the rest of my life with my person.’ Maybe I was scared of letting her down if I tried to be her person. Maybe I just wasn’t her person. Maybe I couldn’t be her person — not because we didn’t like each other or because we were too different, but because sometimes, liking and a few common interests aren’t enough. Or maybe… I found ‘escape’ and chose the easier route.
When Attraction isn’t Enough
Enter my second encounter. Tiwalade and I had been ‘hey-hi’ friends for about a year plus. We went to the same fellowship. Before we began relating deeply, she was the kind of person I never thought I could speak to. For context, she once got recognition for being the prettiest in her faculty. But someway somehow, we started interacting from a distance, and on May 21, a similar thing happened. From a random conversation, we started talking about marriage, preferences, and goals (again, it was random, I promise). She was only a semester away from graduating from Psychology.
We talked from about 10pm till 2am, and I realised we had even more in common than Catherine and I did. Now, at this point, you may be thinking that this was responsible for the decline with Catherine, but the truth is, that would be overly simplistic. It certainly wasn’t that straightforward. At least most obvious is the fact that the decline had begun well before this. Anyway, back to the point. I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about Tiwalade, but definitely, I knew I was attracted to her. And it seemed like at this time she was returning the energy. For exactly two weeks, we talked consistently, shared playlists, shared books, shared pictures and got to know more about each other. Tiwa was stunning, smart, savvy, witty, unbelievably soft and kind, and so amiable. I remember how, for many weeks, all I listened to was songs from a playlist she had specially created for me — a mix of her all-time favourites and recent finds. She checked in every day. I felt really special.
If there was anything I knew during those two weeks, it was that she was significantly interested. While I can’t say whether she ‘liked’ me, I know for sure that there were prospects, and the prospects were fantastic. She had a persona quite different from Catherine’s, and perhaps that added to the thrill of a new encounter. Although I’m not much of a religious person, I began looking forward to going to church to see and talk to her after service. It went well — very well, in fact — and we bonded, until… well, until she stopped. She started taking much longer to reply to my messages. The last call we had ended with me wondering who sent me — she was cold, sounded distracted, and appeared distant. I wondered what happened, and how things could take a turn so quickly.
I have often thought it was a thing of nemesis, but the truth is that narrative doesn’t add up. Also, many months after, we still ‘talk’ (more like hey-hi) from time to time, even though it’s clearly superficial. Neither of us seems to want to acknowledge that we once had a thing going, and we both act like nothing ever happened. These days when I see her picture, I sigh, partly because she’s really pretty, and partly because…. She celebrated her birthday some weeks back and I didn’t know how to feel. I still feel attracted to her, I won’t lie, and a part of me feels like she took a step back to see if I was only going with the ‘wave’. Actually, this is what a friend told me might have happened. Perhaps she wanted to see some [more] effort on my end, some clarity, some ‘I want us to get somewhere with this’ from me. Perhaps she wanted me to man up and say what I wanted.
Why I think this theory is valid is that a similar thing later happened in December, though certainly nowhere as intense. Her name was Fiyin. Fiyin and I followed the script: we were in the same group/unit and so we happened to start talking more frequently. We didn’t get close, but I sensed she was responsive. On two or three occasions, we happened to talk about romantic relationships, societal expectations, and whatnot. We both knew we were single, and perhaps something in our subconscious hinted that something could happen. But I knew that even though I somewhat admired her, I didn’t like her that way and I wasn’t willing to pursue the something. And so, I didn’t make any ‘moves’ — we just vibed from time to time. Until she stopped too. Later on, I got to learn that, in her own words (relayed through a friend), just talking and creating rapport for weeks with no clear intentions or proper dates is unnecessary. Oh well, you don’t say!
Four Lessons
I have one more story to tell about Chigozie, and this one is quite different, but I’ll save it for later for two reasons. One, it’s currently still unfolding, though it started last year. And two, I’ve said a lot in this piece already; I might as well wrap things up. I’ve learnt at least four things, and you may pick one or two. First, liking is often not enough. As I’m learning with Chigozie, my current ‘crush’ whom I’m coming to learn is nowhere near a suitable partner for me, it’s not enough to like someone. While liking and fondness are non-negotiable, a functioning relationship will require more. How compatible are we? Second, mutual liking is also not enough. There are potential relationships you will walk away from ahead of time — even though you are both fond of each other — because you know it won’t work. Someone asks, how do you know when you haven’t even tried? Well, flip around and find out.
Third, ‘babe wey like you no go stress you.’ I really don’t know how or where this fits in any of the stories above. I just know it was one of the things I learnt last year. Lastly, women — everybody actually, but them especially — deserve clarity (what are we and where are we going?), intentionality (how are we getting there?), and responsibility (following through the initiative to get there) — as well as the right to reject your advances (i.e., to say ‘I am not going with you’). They say the streets are rough, and it’s true. Being honest about your intentions from the get-go may not always go the way you expect. But nonetheless, chivalry shouldn’t be dead. I think playing games is uncivil — on both sides. But I hope I meet a sane person. I hope I prove to be a sane person. Life shouldn’t be complicated. So, as you contemplate love this season, remember that at the end of the day, butterflies no really send your daddy.
Disclaimer: The characters and events in this writeup may be fictional.
Klaus
