Chapter Twenty-Three – Relationships Take Work

“I like you very much” Sly said, “but I’m not sure how you feel about me. That’s why I called you friend, I didn’t want to assume something we’ve not discussed.”

“Well, I like you too” I said, “I thought that was obvious” I added with a nervous laugh.

“I can’t assume such a thing, Araba. You have to tell me and I don’t think you like to do that. I tell you I like you and you smile or laugh or find a way to change the topic.”

I laughed nervously again.

“Do you have a problem talking about how you feel?” he asked.

“No” I replied defensively.

Sly looked a little too intently at me. I felt the immediate desire to run out of the room.

“Why are you so afraid of love?” he asked finally.

*

Mara must have stared at her phone for 30 minutes trying to come up with an excuse to get out of whatever this was. She would draft a message and delete.

Many thoughts run through her head. Should she block him? If she did, she would surely meet him in class. What if she reported him? No one would believe an F student over a lecturer who had been teaching for some 15 years.

“Oh, sorry sir. I’m currently not well. I have cramps” she replied finally. Mr. Mintah accepted the excuse but called her anyway so they could talk. Mara endured the most painful conversation where he asked more about her father and her goals in life.

“You said your father works in finance eh? That’s nice. I don’t think I know him. I will go and look for him and thank him for giving life to such a beautiful girl.”

“Do you look like your mother? Oh wow! You do? Then your father is a lucky man. You are very beautiful.”

“So, what do you want to be? An economist? That’s very good. I like intelligent women. Are you intelligent? I really wish you could come tonight. I’m lonely here. Don’t forget you owe me a favor because I have not forgotten.”

“If you follow me, I will make you successful. You won’t worry about money or grades ever. Open your mind, okay? Let me take care of you” he said.

Ew! Again, ew! There’s something so gross about a 50-year-old man telling an 18-year-old that he’ll take care of her. How inappropriate.

Mara had only giggled in response but in her heart, she was screaming and banging the wall. She was in real trouble.

Speaking of trouble, Boateng came over to talk to me about what was going on with his parents.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That can’t be easy at all” I said.

“Yeah. Like, every time I think things can’t get any worse, something happens to show me how wrong I am” he said.

I texted Sly to cancel our plans to hang out so Boateng and I could talk some more. I had been vehemently demanding that Boateng communicate his feelings and so if he was doing it, it was important that I listen.

Sly had replied with a thinking emoji and a moon emoji. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

The next day he came to see me and we decided to go for a walk.

We held hands and chatted a little.

“How’s Boateng now?” Sly asked.

“He’s okay, I guess. It can’t be easy dealing with all that he is”

“I thought you said he had a girlfriend. So, why did he come to you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s my best friend and we help each other. I don’t interfere in his relationships so I don’t know what he tells Marilyn or not.”

“Mmm. But isn’t what you were doing the girlfriend’s job?”

I left his hand and turned to face him.

“Is there a problem?”.

He shook his head.

“No there isn’t. I just think it’s very convenient that you blow me off to do your best friend’s girlfriend’s job when you and I were still talking about your issues with opening up?”

I kid you not, I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I’m ashamed to say this, but I immediately wanted to visit the bathroom. There's always something about confrontation that unsettles me and my bowels.

“Oh my gosh, Sly. What is this? I’m not afraid of you. Okay? If I didn’t want to see you, I would have said so. In any case, I wasn’t trying to run away from our conversation. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He looked annoying.

“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to start acting like you actually give a shit about this relationship.”

“And who said I don’t? I’m literally in your room 24/7. I spend most of my time with you. I left the library the other day to spend time with you. Please, I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Araba, stop talking like that. What do you want me to say? What do you want from me? It kind of proves my point. I appreciate the time we spend together. But if you run away from conversations and not tell me how you feel, it defeats the purpose of everything.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “I don’t know how to do that. Okay?”

He calmed down now. “Okay. So maybe, now that you know, you can do something about it.”

Is this how relationships are? If so, I don’t want it. What’s all this 'work on yourself' BS. Excuse my French, but c’est ne pas possible! Non!

Enough! Talking about my own problems is far too upsetting. Let’s talk about anything else. Okay, let’s talk about Boateng. Sly had been right when he said what I was doing was Marilyn’s job.

There was a knock at my door as I was nursing a terrible headache after replaying my fight with Sly a million times. I was surprised to see Marilyn at the door with a broad smile on her face. If she was one thing, it was determined; determined to ruin her relationship in an attempt to fix it.

I opened the door wider for her and she came in and took a seat. We successfully passed through the phase of awkward and uncomfortable silence.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Boateng. I feel I may have offended him. I asked to go through his phone and since then he’s been a bit off…”

“Sorry to cut you off, Marilyn but I think this is none of my business. I remember you specifically asking me not to meddle in your relationship. So…”

“I know. But in this case, you’re not really meddling. I just want to know what to do to make it up to him and you know Boateng better than I do.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think it’s you. He’s just dealing with a lot concerning his parent’s divorce and court case. He usually goes into a shell when he’s disturbed about something and…”

“Wait, did you say divorce and court case? When was this?”

Messop!

“I had no idea you didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” I wasn’t sure what exactly I was apologizing for, whether it was for saying it or for Boateng not being the one to do so.

Marilyn left my room worse off.

Straight to her boyfriend’s room with hurt in her heart she went. That was oddly Shakespearean of me, but I think it shows just how melodramatic it all was. Picture it; girl walking through the hallway in slow motion with a sad face and sad romantic music playing in the background.

“Ei, Boateng! Is that how you are? How could you be going through all this and not tell me? Am I not your girlfriend? If you’re in love with your bestie, please tell me now and let me see my how far because I cannot do this anymore.”

Boateng was flustered.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your parents divorce and court case. Why am I hearing it from your friend and not you? What’s the point of a relationship if you don’t come to me with your problems?”

“I’m really sorry. I just wasn’t ready to talk about it with you because I felt that you would see me differently and I didn’t want it to come between us. I always want you to think of me as having my life together. I’m sorry.”

Even a two-year-old child would know you don't have your life together, Boateng. Sorry.

This response triggered this disturbing innate desire in women to take care of the wounded. The wounded could be stabbing you in the eye and cry out in pain and that desire would awaken. You would be the one consoling, completely forgetting your own eye. Narcissists feed off this behavior.

A guy wanted to get with a girl once. He wasn’t handsome, neither was he rich and he couldn’t talk his way to save his life. Seeing that he was shorthanded, he pulled at the string of motherly instinct by confessing that he wanted to kill himself.

Had he said hi, sent a joke or even a funny video, he may have been ignored but after sharing his supposed mental challenge, the girl responded to his messages within the minute and they even dated for a time.

Marilyn went over and held Boateng like he was a wounded baby. Gross!

“I promise you; nothing will make me change how I see you. you have to tell me these things or there’s no way we can work.”

Boateng nodded. It was a sweet moment of them standing there and hugging.

The tree in Marilyn’s mind had not been tendered to but the nature of life had set its course and eventually, it would bear fruit.