No Finish Line

You are mad about someone or someplace or something because that someone or place or something reminds you of someone you’d rather forget. Someone you fell in love with, head and tail, only to wake up to a realization that you had actually fallen into a dark pit and not love as you had imagined. So you walk around with anger clenching on the hem of your cloth. You want to be left alone, but your friend keeps saying, “I promise you, your man is still out there.”

“Please, Joan, we have talked about this.”

“I know, but I am not giving up on you yet and I don’t want you to give up on love. Come on, come with me to this party. Your real man might be in attendance.”

“I am not coming.”


“Joan, you know me. Once my mind is made up there’s no changing it.”

“You need to change it this time. Look, come with me. If you don’t meet someone, I will marry you myself.”


“So, are you coming?”


True to Joan’s prophesy you’ll meet a man. The kind that wears a trenchcoat and shirt buttoned up to the neck. He will be drinking beer from a can when you spot him. He won’t smile at you when your eyes meet, which will be odd, because you are used to men smiling back. As the night progresses and Joan keeps getting pulled aside by men you are seeing for the first time, you’ll find yourself standing next to this man in a trenchcoat. He smells good, you’ll note, and his beard looks moisturized.

“I think birthday parties are lame,” he will say to your surprise because you weren’t even sure he had registered your presence. You’ll instead straighten your black dress, which needs no straightening, and mumble, “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

He’ll shrug. “No reason.”

“Did someone hold a gun to your head and force you to come?”

“Well, considering the birthday-girl is my close friend, there really was a gun on my head. Look, do you wanna get out of here?”

You’ll tilt your head to the side. “You don’t even know my name and you want me to follow you to where exactly?”

“I saw you looking at me.”


“Look, I can tell you are attracted to me. And I think I am attracted to you too.”

“You think?”

“I think. It could be alcohol, so I can’t say for sure that I know. Maybe tomorrow morning I will be sure.”

“Men really don’t know how to woe women anymore, do they?”

“I can’t speak for other men. I can, however, speak for myself. And right now, all I want to do is take you somewhere for a drink or two. Thereafter, if you are up for it, book a hotel room and make love to you. Can’t promise anything crazy, because I am not one to blow my own trumpet. In the morning we can have breakfast and because we will both be sober, decide whether we want to know each other’s name or let bygones be bygones.”

“Wow! You have it all figured out, no? Because I strike you like a cheap whore who has no qualms about sleeping with a stranger, right?”

“You don’t strike me like a whore. And if you did, that would make me a whore too because you are also a stranger to me. A gorgeous stranger, with beautiful eyes and a lovely smile, but a stranger nonetheless.”

You’ll shake your head and look away. It will then strike you that you could have shut him up kitambo or simply walked away, but you hadn’t because you kind of liked him, and you kind of wanted to bang him. If anything, your body was already reacting to the situation if the tingly feeling between your thighs was anything to go by.

“Can we skip the drink part and go straight to the hotel?” You’ll say. But he won’t answer you. His head will be buried in his phone.

“Hey, stranger?.”

“I am sorry,” he’ll smile. “I was requesting an Uber, which will be here in 3 minutes. So, shall we?”

He will hold your hand and you two will sneak out of the party. Inside the uber, you’ll WhatsApp Joan to tell her you were on your way to get your groove back and she will send a dozen love emojis, clapping emojis, and all the other emojis that showed excitement. In some fancy hotel room, he will get you naked, delicately caress your body and by the time his penis will be sliding into you, your whole body will be trembling.

You’ll wake up at 5 in the morning while he’s still be sleeping, dress up, and when you are just about to sneak out, he’ll say, “This wasn’t part of the deal.”


“The sneaking out. We were supposed to have breakfast together, no?”

“We were.”

“So?” He will climb out of bed and walk to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. Your body will be too weak to resist and so you’ll kick off your shoes and start kissing him back. The morning glory will be amazing and later on, while seated opposite from him on the breakfast table, you would wish you could have sex with him the whole day. An idea which you didn’t wish to voice but you did.

“Does that mean we get to introduce ourselves?” he’ll ask.

“Yes. My name is Njeri.”

“I know.”


“Your friend Joan told me.”

“She did what?”

“I am sorry. But I am the reason she dragged you to that party because I begged her to. You probably don’t remember but we have met before. I bumped onto Joan in town and she was with you. Ever since I have been attracted to you and no matter how much I tried, Joan couldn’t give me your number. Something to do with you nursing a broken heart and wanting nothing to do with men.”

It’s something you hadn’t expected, but you weren’t surprised. Joan was very much capable of doing such a thing. And now you wondered if her being pulled aside by strange men was no ploy to leave you isolated.

“Well, now you’ll have to help me find a place to bury Joan’s body because I am definitely going to kill her.”

“Haha. My name is Luke.”

“Like, Saint Luke?”

“Yea, without the saint.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Luke.”

He will kiss the back of your hand when you stretch it to him and he will do it a million times thereafter because an unlikely relationship will blossom. Even without a Saint Luke to his name, Luke will still be a saint. He will treat you nicely. Make love to you in a way only someone who loves you will. You will smile often and won’t notice days going by because he makes you happy. But still, you will be confused when one day he will go to his knees to propose to you. You’ll feel rushed. Like you are not ready. Is he the man you want to spend the rest of your life with? You won’t be too sure.

And so you’ll mumble, “I am sorry,” and walk away from his kneeling knee, flashing ring and the lingering smile on his face. Your decision won’t make sense even to you, but you’ll somehow feel it’s the right one. Joan will be furious when you tell her you didn’t know why but you didn’t feel ready to settle.

“With him or anyone else?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know, Joan.”

“You almost cried yourself to depression when that cheating bastard in the name of Mark left you. And here you are, breaking a good man’s heart for no reason at all? You might as well forget about finding a man who will make you completely happy!”

And that’s the thing Joan doesn’t know. Same thing you didn’t know before now. That love is stupid. And that you can’t say you won’t find happiness because you let go of someone who everyone thought was the right one for you. The one you even thought was the right one for you. You cried when the cheating bastard Mark left, but you no longer want him back. That’s how it is. That’s how it will always be. No one person has the key to your happiness. Because when it comes to love, there’s no finish line.

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One thought on “No Finish Line

  1. Judy

    Nowadays, it is hard to find a good man! I agree with Njeri and she may have saved them a lot of issues arising from marrying a man without being ready. Don’t people have to know each other better anymore? Why the rush? Besides, she is the one to live with the guys and not the so called friends!!

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