I'm reeling from the things I have uttered thinking relationships are a big fat joke when they are not. I've been deceiving myself thinking that if we just take things in jest, problems might just disappear.
That was until the PlayStation man got kicked out. Like me, he must have thought that if he played just one more game, it might just go unnoticed again.
But it didn't go unpunished.
Fezeka is still huffing and puffing. But everyone agrees she's taken too much of a beating from the relationship. "It was basically my relationship and he was just there to masquerade as a partner when we both knew the fact," she says.
Okay, now that's done but something weird happened soon after. My brother heard the news and dumped his busybody chick, and even my maid sent an SMS to her lifelong problematic man and said: "Msunu wakho, uzitholele isilima esisha (get yourself a new idiot, asshole)." And unbeknown to her, the man had been showing off the new idiot to his relatives already.
Break-ups are contagious. I started scrutinising my own and wondered - isn't this the time to also be real about this impossible situation? At least I will have a support group to fill up my glass whenever it goes empty. It takes us back to the request I've been making to my shrink.
"There needs to be a relationships rehab or we will all go through life licking wounds and doing unto others as we wouldn't like."
Back to the contagious nature of break-ups. My helper says she feels that if Fezeka could remove herself from his invisible claws, so could she, and her complexion has improved by three tones - I swear. It's as if she was wearing the dark cloud on her face ever since I knew her. And as if that's not enough, health practitioners list bad relationships as one of the chronic disease-inducing factors.
But for most of us, it's not even the three packs effect alone that we carry with us for relationships that are on crutches anyway. We also have to carry the burden of their issues. Like my helper's man who had issues with her dark skin tone. I mean, its 2008 and donkey years into the African Renaissance, and you still have people like him.
"The more I worried about my skin tone the darker it got, and now that he's out of my life I have the perfect skin tone, how does that happen sisi?" I love people like her. She's smart and has a very realistic perspective on things.
Meanwhile, I have been seriously pondering when I should put plans into motion. I wondered if I shouldn't just open my own rehab and just charge them for gatherings - food and beverage will be sorted among members. I have my mother's drive and entrepreneurial spirit. Two birds with one stone has always been a mantra in our house. Until a thought struck. What the hell am I on about? Seriously, just because people break up it doesn't render my own relationship a façade.
I have a good thing going really and other people can sort themselves out. I don't have to be patriotic at the expense of my own happiness. Women like me need a reality check all the time.
They are the ones who spit fire at their own men just because their sisters have taken abuse from theirs. We let our men suffer for the deeds of our past abusive liaisons and for issues that were already there when they met us. And though I think my helper's ex was a dog, she already thought she was too dark when they met.