A MEMOIR OF ALL THE MEN THAT HAVE BEEN (Chapter 3)

PASCAL

You could say Facebook has had one of the biggest impacts in my life and you wouldn’t be wrong. Pascal slid into my DM with the skill of a veteran and the wits of a seasoned writer. He was a frequent commenter on my posts; he’d in fact used one of my posts as a skateboard to slide into my inbox. He was a skillful conversationalist and I found myself warmly responding to him.

When I was done going over his profile for the first time since I came to know him as a Facebook friend, I became even more accommodating. Even though I remained guarded when he said suggestive things and sometimes acted clueless when he used innuendoes, he was not deterred.

And there is something about a man who is resilient.

After a couple of days, in his smooth way of using words, he asked for my WhatsApp digits. I gave it to him and we carried on with our chatversation there.

I think what struck me the most about Pascal was that even though he first came off as one who wanted just sex and I had let him know that it might not happen, he would still check up on me and never relented in impressing on me the idea that he was more than someone who just wanted us to fuck. He wanted to be my friend.

And the times we spoke on the phone, Pascal radiated a warmth I could feel wrap around me even though he was faraway in Edo and I was in Abuja. He made me laugh in a manner that was easy and comforting. He exuded a genuineness I found both enthralling and captivating. I might not have wanted anything romantic with him at the time but Lord knows I enjoyed him. Thoroughly.

Did I say I did not want anything romantic with Pascal? Well, that was my initial feeling. I would later realise it was me not wanting anything with anyone. But over time, as the months went by and our communication and friendship strengthened, so did my feelings for him. But I kept this to myself. I needed to be sure about I felt and I wanted to let him know this in person. We had both planned that for Christmas, I would stop over at his place for a few days before journeying on to Lagos. That would be the perfect time to tell him, I said to myself.

This was not to be because Pascal soon got into a relationship with some guy that he met on a work trip abroad. When he told me about it, I should have been happy for him, but I was not. Okay, maybe I was happy for him but I was not happy about it.

Instead, I felt a huge bite of jealousy as he told me about his newfound happiness.

It had to happen now?! I remember thinking, mentally kicking myself for all the time I wasted. I could not bring myself to say anything to him now, so I sucked it up.

And whenever he talked lovingly about this new man in his life, I absorbed the ache, fought through it and forced myself to embrace his happiness.

And I excelled at doing this, until it was not such a strain anymore for me. Pascal was my friend, had proven to be a good one at that, and that, to me, mattered more than any emotional battle I was having. That and the fact that I would never, as a person, go after someone in a relationship. For all of my reservations about getting into one, I respect the concept of it too much.

However, I thought I had successfully stowed my feelings for Pascal and that he would never find out, but I could not have been more wrong. In a moment of weakness, I opened up to him about everything I felt.

Here is how it happened:

He told me he would come to Abuja to make final preparations about a trip he intended to make, and so we planned to meet at a friend’s place. It was going to be the first time we would be meeting, and to me, it was a huge deal.

The plan was that he would come over to where I was at my friend’s after he was done at the Embassy, then go back to his hotel before traveling back to his base. His trip abroad was still a few weeks away.

While at my friend’s, her brother offered me a slice of brownie laced with weed (my friend tried to dissuade me from eating it, but my love for cakes won over her warning) and I took it. I thought I would be fine. I thought weed-in-cake would not be as effective as the one they smoke, so I chomped down that slice of brownie, smiling contentedly at my friend as I munched.

What’s the worst that could happen? I thought.

It did not take long for me to find out.

Fast forward to an hour later, I started to feel like I was being suspended in the air by an invisible force. I felt my walls crumble and my vulnerabilities becoming conspicuous. It was as though my spirit had left my body. I was scared. It was such an alien feeling and I did not like it. I love to be in control of myself all the time, but on this day, in that moment, something was controlling me. I started to talk too much, to reveal too much, and my friend, who is older and a lawyer, who understood what was happening, listened and soothed. There were times I would stop and ask her if I was making sense because I was afraid that I was running mad and she would laugh and assure me that I was.

It was in this state that Pascal met me. For a first meet, you can imagine the impression I made on him. It was devastating when the following day, my friend told me that I had placed my legs on his thighs and spilled my heart out to him. Then she added that to my credit, even though it was obvious I was beyond high, I had told him I would never come between him and his boyfriend. According to her, she had been proud of me and – at the risk of sounding cocky – I was proud of me too. It goes to show how authentic my resolve to never come between two persons in a relationship is.

Pascal never, till this day even, poked fun at me over what happened at my friend’s. All the more reason I love the man. My stay at his place in Edo much later was so much fun. He was so sweet, so warm, effortlessly nice, and I could not have been happier for his boyfriend. All that goodness wrapped in a 6’2 package and just the right about of muscle to snuggle into when you feel fear; it was hard to not be jealous of this boyfriend. But by then, I was done pining for Pascal. I even spoke to the boyfriend on the phone, and from our conversation, he seemed nice.

But then, they broke up. And when that happened, I knew I had to be there for my friend who was beyond torn. I hesitated a bit though, because even though he was the one that suggested I come over, I prayed for the strength to not take advantage of the situation. Yes, I had tucked away my feelings for him, but they were not dead.

But I honoured his invitation and went to his place, and during my visit, I made sure to help him out of his breakup funk. We have stayed friends ever since and although sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to be more involved with him, I feel we are better off as friends.

I wish I had felt this same way for the next person that came around.

Written by Delle