THE WICKED LOVE BUG: DIARY OF A SPINSTER

I’ve been single for a larger portion of my life. Five months earlier I broke up with my supposed better half, well not exactly, maybe I didn’t break up with him; he had simply eloped with
another woman, a much older, much wealthier one. 

Ben was my first fiancé – well, at least officially. Alighting from a taxi, there he stood at the bus stop this towering 6 foot tall Yoruba god. He had already swept me off of my feet without realizing it; I had fallen in love with his stout build, piercing hazel eyes, perfectly carved lips and bulging package – one I was willing to die for. Strutting in my high heels, fortunately, I missed a step and fell hard on my buttocks. A damsel in distress I became and he, superman at the ready.

After a rather awkward introduction, I dived headlong asking him where he lived, his name and went as far as touching and leaning on him. I have to admit I get really lightheaded when I get a love bite, I just can’t help it. I succeeded with my quest, after some few weeks we started dating. Half of the time I was at Ben’s one room apartment, it didn’t bother me, I was truly in love and when love happens to me, I constantly splurge –  an investment to earn that ‘ring.’

I thought all was well, I had the engagement ring – at least that’s a good sign – knew each member of his family, in fact I felt married to him already. That was the picture I imagine until I got an anonymous tip informing me that 'my Ben' was at the altar,  I was baffled realizing this, I was sunk in my bed and not at the altar with him. Well to cut the long story short, I stormed the venue, created a scene and they ended up getting married. At the time I didn’t feel betrayed by him, I felt betrayed by his family; every single one of them was present. 

Going through the various stages of grief; I denied the feelings I had for him, loathed him and then finally accepted my fate – it was time to move on.  I strived to look pretty, to act kind and went out often to weekend occasions in a bid to network and find me a man. It went well most of the time, only for me to realize that I was dealing with married men who wanted some fun time with me; how would I have known, I was desperate.

Time was no longer on my side, I had to make use of every opportunity I had, especially after wasting five years as a ceremonial girlfriend to every Tom, Dick and Harry I randomly bumped into.

Next line of action was to hit the boutique, get more fancy clothes, a snazzy fully functional smartphone and I would in no time get my ticket to walk the aisle – for real this time. It was simple, and even more perfect with useful app to give filter effects to my photos. 

Prior to my mission to prowl on an unsuspecting gentleman, I only had 89 friends on Facebook, considered Instagram a sheer waste of data and loathed Twitter for its 140 character limit; well not anymore, I need a man and right now too. 

At first the experience was daunting; there was more to it. I had to take the perfect shots at perfect angles, decide whether to upload pictures or short videos, the right quotes to update and more importantly, whose request I had to accept. I am aware of my desperation but also I want no ‘chewing gum boys.’ 

Soon, all seemed to have worked out just fine. I had accumulated a total of 4000 friends on Facebook (mostly men) gained an astounding follower-ship on Instagram and Twitter. This development fueled my passion to be more adventurous with my post. I went on and bought more clothes and made sure I visited my well-to-do friends so as to utilize every portion of their abode to uniquely create variety for my posts.

“Hello, this is Blaine, I like your pictures and I will like to connect with you personally”

Those were the lines I woke up to on Saturday in my inbox on Facebook. The line was cliché but something kept poking me to check this Blaine guy. I did and I was blown away.

Blaine was the ‘dream man.’ Tall, fair with lower pink lips, well-trimmed beard and an infectiously cute smile stamped on his face. I wasn’t thinking at the time – as usual – I had no time for such. He was the prize game and I must hunt him down. I typed no further, went straight and gave out my functional mobile number, I would have called him that instant, but he had his number hidden on his profile.

Days went past, I transitioned from happy, to tense, to being inconsolably disappointed. I went back to his profile and in boxed him an epistle of information about myself and prayed for a reply with bated breath. Weeks rolled by, nothing happened and I gave up. 

“Hello, who is this?” I enquired

“Hi this is Blaine” he replied with a brilliant English accent.

Instantly, I froze, lost for words, and prayed deep within for the caller to be the right Blaine.

“Yes, this is Annabel, how may I help you?”

“Hello, this is Blaine, your friend on facebook, you dropped your digits.”

In my head, I started a worship and praise session, all my efforts are about to pay off.

“Oh! Yes, this is Annabel, how are you Blaine?”

“I am fine and well.” He replied

“Annabel I was wondering if I can take you out on a ……”

Yes! I replied emphatically without waiting to hear where he planned taking me to and for what purpose.

“I would love to take you out on a date,” he said finally.

All things were set, at least for me. I was not taking chances. It has to be the perfect shoes, clothes and a makeover at a spa for this one in a lifetime date. 

The planned date came and I made it to the eatery as planned. It was 5; 30pm, so I decided to wear my little black dress that helped exude all my black girl magic. Arriving at the venue, I called his mobile number, he answered, asked of my particular spot and pleaded that I waited for him while he walked up to me. 5 minutes later, a dark scraggy looking man walked up to me. 

“Annabel right?” He asked

“Yes I am” I replied with a broad smile

He was an absolute opposite of Blaine, so I assumed him to be his driver whom he asked to come pick me up.

“Hi, I am Blaine, we have been talking on the phone, you know on Facebook?”

That instant I scanned him repeatedly with a glare, picked up my clutch bag and walked away. What ran through my mind repeatedly was Ben. If he hadn’t disappointed me, I wouldn’t have been in this sham of Facebook love. Well I still believe that there is a man out there for me, but how soon will I locate him, I’m already 38.