I don't remember the day I became obsessed with being convenient. Terrified to take up space or cause any form of discomfort - that was the day I lost my mind.

A part of me is convinced I have a Nigerian millennial who is obsessed with humbling me and reminding me that I will not be good enough in my head.

“Everyone who falls in love has someone else they're thinking of” - Cian Ducrot

Something about this reminds me of all the lovers I have taken over the years, people who were interested in other people before I came along.

I have a whirlwind syndrome. I come with zero intentions to stay but one conversation leads to one month of laughs, then it's one year till we stop talking. I don't fight it anymore. 

It is almost as if something about me piques curiosity and when the veil is lifted all that's left is disappointment and “I thought you would be able to jump off a bus at Obalende”

A part of me wants to say the way lovers love me is a reflection of how I love me but that would be insincere. Do I bash myself? Absolutely but do I love myself with everything I have? Yes. Is that a lot? Maybe not.

Maybe it is because I am eager. I would be a terrible driver with my inability to pull the brakes. An even shitty driver with how forcefully I pull the brakes.

I simply allow everyone to take their piss, ride my wheels off and leave. No idea why. Writing this makes it feel like I should consider therapy.

Or maybe it's a multifaceted thing. Maybe I'm just a fool who wears his heart on his sleeve. Or, I am a cunning schemer people are grateful to get away from.

You never realize how much you hurt yourself by being convenient until you are mad at someone for hurting you, yet you say “I'm sorry” first.

Because you are sorry. More to yourself, less to them but you cling on like they're your lifeline. 

That gives them the power they do not deserve. You get looked at with their eyes at 180 degrees. The way the rich man looked at Lazarus. Scornful - with reeking disgust.

You have the mental gymnastics that comes with it too. A rat race Usain would never be able to win when you're registered. 

All the steps forward, Two steps back - One step forward, All the steps back. On your heels, over glass. Day in - day out with your medal dangling around your neck.

It could be that I adore the attention. But, who doesn't? Who does not want to be wanted or looked at just the way they imagined? Maybe imaginations fuelled by romance novels and 90s movies are the problem.

Maybe I am the problem for asking for too much? Instagram therapists have told me that is false. I am never asking for too much, just asking the wrong person. Yet no one has offered to share the contact of the right person.

“I'm still waiting for ya, will you change your mind? I would give it all up for us” - V of BTS

I claim to be a hopeless romantic - the lover that waits for you, after you spat on them and said verbatim you are not good enough. Why? I could be lacking some internal love.

But the idea of waiting for someone to realize you were always the one for them suddenly gives me a pick-me energy. In my defense, “can't you see that I will love you best and sacrifice my happiness for yours?? No one will ever love you like I will.”

That is the point. That, right there is the point. They do not want to be loved like that. 

I get plagued with the need to reinvent myself every time a love story doesn't have a happy ending. Because that could only mean I'm the problem, right? 

This person I am is not fit to be loved right? Why am I undeserving of being fought for? My myopia will make it impossible to see but my heart is sure to feel it.

It is time I accept loving for what it is and pull the breaks. Why don't I give more of that love I have to share back to me? 

Dish it and force-feed myself. Gobble it down like it's my first time tasting love.

I really hope my next lover likes thinking about what to eat for dinner because every dish on the table is currently mine to feast on.