|Type of paper:||Case study|
The description of the development of the relationship with specific interactions that exemplified the stages:
I was hanging out with a couple of friends when I spotted Sheila. She was with a bunch of female friends, the loudest of them all and so full of raw energy. She wore a short dress that exposed the curves of her legs that captured that captivated me. The girl gang was having drinks just across our table, and we could occasionally eavesdrop into their silly conversations, often laughing at how weird their topics were. At some point, all my friends had fixed to pry eyes onto the table, intentions written on their faces. I knew the look because we all had it. I had it too. Having enough of the sight, we went for the Jugular.
We went to their table, casually introduced ourselves and offered to buy a drink. I sat strategically close to the girl who had caught my eye. She was very talkative, had an amazing set of teeth, very long and glowing hair, and smooth beautiful skin. Oh my! I wasn't the most social being by then, but Sheila, she could get me talking. The other fellas fitted in pretty well. There were four ladies on the table, we were four gentlemen, and everybody had made a choice on which they were to engage with for the night. Like a natural law, the most handsome had paired up with the most beautiful one and well the less gifted as well. We introduced ourselves, but the ladies didn't.
Initially, Sheila did all the talking. She coordinated group talks like she was some choirmaster. More drinks were brought. That's when I noticed Sheila didn't drink. I was done with my second bottle of beer, and my confidence was already skyrocketing. I had seen a loophole I intended to exploit. "Why don't you drink?" I asked her blatantly. She stared into my eyes for a moment, and I felt terrified, took my half-filled bottle and gobbled it all down. My door to holding a personal conversation with her was slammed shut to my face. After wiping the foam from her lips, she said, "I have had enough already, thank you." At this point, my mind went blank for a moment. Well, faint heart never wins fair lady. "I didn't catch your name, err..." I stammered. "My name is Sheila." We hit it off right at that moment.
She was in business school. She came from a family of five. She mentioned an older brother who was in the construction business. She loved dogs and food. The irony of ladies liking food is that they are so skinny. We talked a lot about her love for dogs that night. I have a pet dog named Rex. He is a Japanese Spitz, very agile and destructive. I knew pretty much about different dog breeds, Rottweiler, German Shepherds, and Chihuahuas et cetera. That night would have been just like any other ordinary night out hadn't I mentioned my love for music. I am a semi-professional guitarist having specialized in flamenco tunes; the types that would make ladies drool over you. She had always loved to play the guitar, of all the instruments. I had a few videos on my phone, performing at local gigs at some pubs and sure as hell she liked them.
We exchanged numbers, and I left early that day, pretending that I was late for a performance.
We met with Sheila a few days after. I called her, and we talked at length about how our day had been. We met at a hotel close to the school gate. I had to bring with me my guitar. We talked about her most. She told me details about her family that was so deep. She talked about her upbringing as a princess, daddy's only girl. She loved to talk. I loved to be the boss. Always gesturing, nodding the head, asking and probing occasionally.
Later in the evening, I played her one of my favorite love songs. She leaned her head on my shoulder as I worked the strings up and down. I had practiced this song over a hundred times before our date that day. I could play it with my eyes closed, standing on my head, sleeping...perfectionism at its best. She told me she was single, that her boyfriend had cheated on her with another friend. Well, I had to be single too. There were no options available. My bridges were all burned down.
We talked more frequently over the phone and met at several places. Well, not that we talked; it was more like she talked. In fact, it the only time I expressed myself more was when we texted. I liked it that way though.
We were becoming very comfortable around each other. I met several of her friends, and she met some of mine. She had gorgeous friends though. We were just a few weeks after we had our very first meeting. We started visiting each other now. She came over to my place more frequently and sometimes unannounced. She could call and inform me she was at the door. I found this cute though. Despite the fact that the initial agreement was we would only meet for guitar training sessions and nothing more, I found myself playing most of the time as she watched. She was a slow learner on the guitar, and it was a little frustrating teaching her.
She would quit the training early, and we would watch a few movies. When she came to my place, I could always cook. When I went to her place, she was the chef. Her cooking was amazing. Never in my life have I ever seen a lady cook that well. Well, except my mother, no. Our moments of intimacies were knocking on the door, and for a long time, we pretended no to hear anything. At least we tried.
It was cold, it had rained a little, and it was late. There was nothing much we could do to salvage the situation. That was how the environment was during our first moment of intimacy. It was a magical moment shared, and we were all happy. After this period, we began holding hands in public. We were always seen together during our free time. She drew me away from the company of my boys that I had now been very used to. We went out at more expensive places, on my bill of course. We had an exponential surge in the frequency of intimate moments.
Two months down the line, we decided to make it official. We splashed our romantic moments over the social media all the time. She tagged me on every Facebook post she had. Every picture in her WhatsApp was about me, me, and me! I was more prudent with the whole relationship thing. But yes, once in a while, after maybe three days, I would serenade her with a picture up my WhatsApp profile. Her friends knew I was the one. My friends knew she wasn't the only one though. The thing about being a guitarist is that, depending on your skills set, the fan base sometimes can be very big.
We were inseparable. I grew very comfortable around Sheila to the point that I felt hollow, lonely and depressed if I failed to see her for a single day.
It all began when Sheila invited me over for a presentation she was having in her class. She had rehearsed day in day out. I admired her resolve to get everything pinpoint and leaving no room for mistakes. We were three months into the relationship thing. She knew I was free on the day of the presentation. Therefore, I had no excuse to give. So we left for her presentation early that morning. However, midway through her lecture hall, I got a call from my brother that he was sick. My brother never calls on such things, so my intuition told me that this might have been serious. I explained to her the situation, excused myself and went to the hospital where he was admitted.
He was feeling lethargic and couldn't hold back his stool. The guy was like a tap, we had joked about it later. He was diagnosed with a bacterial infection in his lower colon. I stayed over until his treatment was done. I left him in the evening feeling better and headed to the campus precincts. I found beautiful Sheila with a group of friends. The presentations had been a success from what I had later, but poor Sheila was in no moods to talk. There was no reason why she should have been angry at me. It made no sense at all. I tried talking her out of her state and was about to finish up my first sentence when she barked at me, so loud that all her friends who were pretending not to be noticing anything giggles. "You are never there for me! Leave me alone."
We never sat down and talked about the event s of that day ever, and like cancer, it slowly ate into our relationship. We talked less about both our families. We could not dare cross that line, and slowly by slowly we trapped in our world that we created.
Sheila kept calling me a snob every time she had the chance, and I kept insisting she was quite selfish. The number of gigs I turned down to be with her began flashing on my mind. I began being conscious of how many times we went out and how much I spent. I consulted a few friends that I had left on the issue. Well, the majority of my friends had already distanced themselves away from me, now that I spent more time with Sheila and not them. Even the discussions I had revolved around her. What do I do for her this time around? How do you please a lady? At what time do you introduce her to your family, and so on and so forth? I thought they were envious of my relationship, but the truth is I had become quite annoying. These friends reminded me of the life I used to live before Sheila came into my life and for the reason that she is the problem.
Our friends came back to our lives. She hangs out more with my friends, and I hung out more with my gang. The implications were dire. I sought after ladies secretly again. I knew the relationship was already headed towards a downward spiral. I occasionally would chat with some girls even in her presence. She would often intuitively sense my infidelities and confront me on them. But I preferred steering out of the conversation with my wit and humor
About five months into the relationship, Sheila discovered a girl I had a flirt with. The lady had called while I was hitting the shower and she might have taken her number. She was a good researcher and detective. She did her digging very well. I was more than impressed at the finer details she presented to me; where we were, who we were with when we met. By the time she confronted me, even the details of the girl's friends, relatives, ancestors and her genealogy to the time of Adam and Eve was at her tips! There was no denying the fact that I was played. I came up with an apology song and sung my heart out that night while she cried. I was deeply sorry.
She stopped coming to my place as frequently as she used to. I did not have the guts to visit her too. Our intimate moments came to a standstill. I tried occasional surprises but to no avail. I took her out to more luxurious places, showered her with gifts of all manners, but I wasn't getting back the feedback I expected. We were interacting more casually, like an older brother and a sister. I was devastated.
She had made her resolve. I was just but hanging on the remains of a thread that once was a big rope. Sheila called me one evening and told me we needed to talk. The irony is, for the past like one month that was all I needed to get from her. I was so positive we were going to resolve all our issues once and for all. I felt excited. We had agreed to meet at the local hotel where we first had our date six months ago. I took so long to freshen up I almost felt I was girlish.
She was wearing a black beautiful short dress, up to the high level. She wore the same design the first time we met back in the days. She looked more beautiful than she had been since we met. I pulled a chair close to her and reached out for her hand across the table. She pulled back. All my danger alar...
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