WOMEN, NOBILITY & ANGER MANAGEMENT

   I like to think of myself as a perfect gentleman, and to some extent, I’m a gentleman, but perfect? Maybe not. I've not had any reason to question my own sweetness for a while now, but recently, I’ve come to see that women are my Achilles’ heel. In fact, I think women sometimes bring out the worst in me. I do not in any way have anything against them. I have my mom, a sister, aunts, cousins and female friends, all women, whom I love dearly. Then there's that one, you know, the only one (in some cases), its 'that one' who's usually the cause of trouble. This piece is actually for guys like me who have been having issues with 'that one'.

   Ask most guys, they’ll probably tell you they have a quick temper. I’m not like that. I'm normally an amiable and affable person. Someone who is sometimes too respectful in his dealings with others. Meeting a new person in a travelling bus? No problem, exchanging banters with a fellow football fanatic in a viewing house? Very easy, throw me into a gathering or party and I'll find someone to discuss politics with. I'm that kind of guy who will help some fancy lady get a cab, and board the same cab, just to get acquainted, and of course get a phone number. Yeah, I’m all that and more. So it’s like outside, I’m a great guy. I'm smooth and ingenious, the perfect gentleman. But in the eye of 'that one', I’m nothing but an imposter, a wicked soul, a vicious hot-tempered spider who like to spin sadness and hurt. I’m none of these anyway, and I know that in my heart like I know the back of my palms, but I just can't seem to prove it to 'that one' that I have a good soul. If I've not got a good soul, she wouldn't have agreed to be with me in the first place.

   Truth be told, I’m not the problem, she is. She sets me wild with her actions and inaction, and truly, I end up saying things I’m not supposed to say. When I’m angry, I say really harsh words, some childish, some brutal. I like to have the last word, so I talk until I can only hear my own voice. I become the exact opposite of myself. Realising how much hurt I might have caused, I end up apologising, even if I wasn't wrong in the first place. I hate to be that, you know, the one who has to apologise always. If you’ve ever been in my shoes, you'll see that in a way, it diminishes you, brings you down, makes you feel like a loser, and most often, ‘that one’ is all too happy to see you make the same mistake, and have you come back to kneel before her, begging for forgiveness. In fact, she loves it when you’re broken, worn out and sober. You end up at her mercy, telling her sweet stuff like ‘Sugar, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me and I promise it won’t happen again'. She sure knows too well it will happen again. She will do what she knows how to do again; light you up, get you all flamed up, rile you, instigate you, provoke you and fire you up. You’ll say something bitter, something cruel and callous, and you’ll realize how vicious you yourself are, and come begging, again. It's a process and she knows all about it.

   Well, I finally found a quick fix I know all about too. When she begins the process of making me mad, I laugh and look at her softly. I say to her ‘when you’re mad at me, you look more beautiful, so beautiful I can’t be mad right now’. She’s quiet, she knows its done, she knows we are not having this fight, and she knows too well she’s lost this battle. Then I say ‘come closer, let’s kill this ire with some love’ as I smile in victory within me. But she’ll live to fight another day…And yet I won’t be fighting.

                       

Written by Adetoye Ayodeji

This article is copyrighted. Please do not reproduce in part or whole, in any form, without obtaining my written permission. Thank you.
Mail your articles and poems to blaze2dtop@gmail.com

Your voice will be heard

BBM: 33291212