I don’t know if you’ve ever been pursued by a writer. But for me, writers seem to always be the most consistent type of man I keep attracting.
I’ve stop trying to figure out why this is always the case, I’ve rather accepted my fate. Besides, it isn’t the worst kind.
The first man I ever fell in love with was chairman of the poetry club in the University we both attended. I didn’t know this until he wrote me my first poem. While he kept reading his lyrical words to me, I kept thinking with great delight “I’m in an actual poem.”
He loved writing me poetry, something I don’t think I fully appreciated at the time. I never believed such beautiful words could be used to describe someone as simple as me. We had a special love but I felt too basic and undeserving. I always imagined he must have met someone more gorgeous and more interesting than me and he was just recycling his best work to keep the spark alive in our relationship.
The second love of my life was a Medical student. So, imagine my shock when I ended up in his rap song a few days after he confessed our feelings to me. There I was again, being loved through flowery words and rhymes.
As someone whose biggest love language is words of affirmation, you can imagine how pleased I started being with my recurrent choice in men.
Writing about someone you love/loved is not something you always plan, it mostly happens all by itself. It can be annoying at times.
You don’t always want to write about the people you’re writing about. You’d rather bury them under heaps of forgetfulness but the heart insists on remembering. You want to write about them in past tense, you want to prove to yourself that you no longer have any attachment to them but your words keep expressing the real truth of your bleeding heart.
The other day, I tweeted that I was about to become a new mom to at least three baby plants after getting free sunflowers seeds at an expo. One of my most favorite Ugandan bloggers sent me a voice note a few minutes later and asked to co-parent the plant with me.
This accelerated a shy interest in him and served as the foundation for a lot of flirting between us. We decided on the gender and the names for our new unborn babies.
A few days later, I went out looking for three pots and found the most adorable cuties with ribbons on the sides.
The day after Father’s Day, we agreed I would pay for them so long, even though feminist me pretended to believe that providing a home for our babies is supposed to be the man’s responsibility!
We also decided that when we meet in two months’ time, he can get to keep and look after one of the baby plants so that I’m not the only primary parent.
I felt childish and a little lame at first. But I eventually thought we were being so cute.
I still can’t put my finger on what it is about writer men that’s always made me find them to be the most intriguing and great fun to flirt with (it must be the words right?). Whatever it is, I know that my heart easily pays attention when one makes an obvious attempt at getting my attention.
Have you ever fallen for a writer? What has been your experience?
Photo By: Lonwabo Zimela