IT is Monday morning. I am staring at Monica with pain. She is leaving me, going with Sam to Kampala. She is moving in with Sam and they are going to be man and wife.
My agony is actually not because Monica is leaving town. It is more because I was dumb enough not to tell her that I was actually in love with her. Today, I seem like the dumbest fool not to have used so many chances I had to confess my feelings.
Monica and I grew up together in Wakiso and were very close. Everyone thought we were dating though, sincerely, we were still too young to know much about love. But the emotional attachment was there and our families knew it and allowed us to visit each other occasionally.
Life was happy with Monica till she, suddenly, started hanging around other guys. I felt jealous and, to show her how it hurt, I too got other girls. But, unlike Monica, I never took it far. She would come to tell me stories about those guys as if she didnâ€™t know it was making me jealous. I thought my love for her was obvious but, it seems, Monica wanted me to say it first. What is wrong with girls?
I actually tried to tell her but every time I opened my mouth, I got so scared! Guys out there know how hard this is.
One day, I found her with a guy called Derrick. Okay, it was my first time to see him but I didnâ€™t like him. He flossed a lot about his rich dad and was a player. Somehow, we fought.
It was horrible! Derrick, the fool he was, told the whole town about our fight. Monica was mad and refused to take any of my excuses. She actually spent three days indoors.
When she finally showed up, it was my chance to say something, but all I could say was that I wanted her to be happy with the right man. I wished I had thrown there my name.
Time flew by and Monica got a part time job at her auntâ€™s shop in Kampala. But she would always return to Wakiso on weekends and we would talk and talk.
Then Sam came in!
Sam, an IT marketer, found her at her auntâ€™s shop and tried to be friendly. Every time I met Monica, she talked about Sam, his generosity, promises, goodness, etc and all this would boil inside me. One Sunday at church, Monica was so happy because, she said, Sam had met her aunt and that the aunt liked him. Stupid me: I had never met her aunt. She had never even suggested it.
Anyway, eight months after meeting Sam, she agreed to move in with him. She told me it would save her rent money. My consolation was that it was more about saving her rent money than love.
After a week of no apetite, she still had bad news for me. She said Sam was coming the next day to pick her remaining belongings from her home. It would be my chance to see him.
Chance, my foot. I almost fainted. The bold-enough man was coming for a victory parade over my dead soul. Still Monica did not see how this hurt and how I loved her more than 100 Sams would ever do at ago.
Early the next morning, she called me from home that Sam had arrived.
I guess it was too late to talk about my love.
I am in a trance. I am wishing everyone a nice time. Sam is thanking me for what I donâ€™t know. They are entering the car. They are waving victoriously at me. They are gone. I want to die. Why didnâ€™t I tell her how I felt about her? WHY!
Sam took my Monica and left me in tears