Dream Girl
When I told Gabriella that I wanted to do an interview, she didn’t believe me. She said it would be long. I knew it would be long but I wanted to tell a love story. A different kind of love story and that is why she suggested Kiki. I waited for Kiki to reach out but she did not. Like the sane person ayam, I did not let my urge to tell a love story end with Kiki. Maybe the love story I got did not meet the cut of being different. It is nice though, isn’t that what I promised you guys? Nice stories? Here is one nice story as told by Richard. It is surprising that we share the same English name with this guy. It was not intentional. I know however you like creating stories out of stories and you will say that the Richard in this story is me. I had the choice of changing the name but Richard would not let me. What would be the use of telling a nice love story and not having your name attached to it?
“Start from the beginning” I start my first ever interview
like a pro after introductions. He is having coffee while I have a glass of
water. I don’t want getting intoxicated when conducting this thing. I want to
get the whole story. Richard is the kind of person who knows how to get his
suits cut; he is wearing a broken suit. He knows his way around words and his
mastery of the queen’s language is also something. He fits the description of a
player; the kind that breaks girls hearts for a hobby. He has a beard; I don’t
trust guys with beards. His though is only at his chin which makes him a little
trustable, just a little.
Their story is what happens when dreams meet reality. He met
her through a friend, the kind of friends who know your taste. The kind of
friends you tell shit and they laugh and then one day you tell them about your
dream girl and boom they have a girl in mind. He tells me about the qualities
he wants in a girl and all the things he wants and dreams that a girl should
have. She had them all.
They have been dating for one and a half years as we speak.
They have had their fair share of fights along the way, maybe way too many. All
this in an effort to find a common ground and understand each other better. I
ask him if he understands her better now or if the fights help. “Girls are
complicated and mine is no different. Just when I think I have figured out
everything, something else comes up.” He
talks about her with passion and I think he loves her so much. So I ask him if
he does, he tells me he does, I press and he starts to stammer. “Words won’t
explain”, he says and tells me that he will till the end.
He tells me there are days he wants to just walk and never
turn back but those are few.
“What makes you
stay?” I ask. “Love wins in the end, it’s all worth it. The good times are
something to look forward to. You see, when you love, you don’t see life
without her. You would rather have the bad times with her than good times with
someone else.” He tells me.
I sip my glass of water and he sips his coffee, black as it
could get. He says he likes his coffee hot, dark and bitter. “Is that how you like your women too?” I
joke. He says he likes them hot and bitter not necessarily dark, he however
likes black because there is not darker color that exist. He is also into cars,
not just cars but huge cars, Range Rover to be specific. She on the other hand
loves bikes; she’s fascinated by huge bikes. The kind that are made by BMW and
could travel the whole world. What kind of combination is that? Bikes and cars?
Do you sometimes wish you liked the same things?
She is fire and I am water, I am glad we are different. It helps us look at life from a common
ground. I wouldn’t want someone who is exactly like me. I am an asshole and I
wouldn’t use another asshole in my life. I need a voice of reason and she is.
What’s your take on marriage?
He fears marriage, the thought of having
No amount of preparation or water or even coffee prepared me
how to write an interview in prose and I feel I wrote a terrible interview of a
nice story but isn’t that what life is about? Getting it wrong until you get it
right? I hear the guy who invented the light bulb failed a thousand times and
not once did he doubt his idea or maybe he did but the guy did not give up. It
is for that reason and the fact that I have now migrated this new look MAINA
MUNENE that I intend to keep writing because no matter how hard it is to put
together a story or how terrible I am at grammar it feels good. I feel right
when I am behind this screen typing with one finger because I also type
terribly. It is my way into your hearts and minds, it is my way of making you
smile or frown or cry if you can, it is my way of telling you stories.
It is the imperfection that makes it perfect, it is the
knowledge that sometimes we don’t need a perfectly written story we just need a
story. And every FRIDAY, I will blow the
horns and send out the smoke signal and call you all here for yet another
session of my experiences or that of others. I will assume the role of your
grandmother because she is either dead or you are too busy to call her or she
does not have a phone. I will ignite a little fire and tell stories not of
ogres and giants but of normal people who go through things in life that you or
someone you know goes through.
***
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