You might not fully enjoy this if you have not read parts 1 and 2
(Richards, here is the same guy in Parts 1 and 2 and this story is basically Eve’s version of the whole love story.) Enjoy!
I started out as curiosity, as a diversion from everyday life. A past time if you will…certainly harmless…a game if you will. But things morphed and changed and I began to wonder what this Richards was really about.
He was a writer, a wordsmith and so, not to be trusted. Words fell from his lips, from his fingertips like gentle rain or a light breeze.
“Interesting,” he would say; Or “WOW”.
I never quite trusted him, but was nonetheless entertained.
I began to question him. “Richards, what do you have in mind? What is this all about?”
“Lookatchu,” he typed. “You ask technical questions. Questions you already know the answers to.”
But I really didn’t know. I really only knew what I read, what I heard him say.
“Can you talk please? Skype please, please, please?”
So I skyped him and we spent hours, nights talking, exploring each others’ minds and hearts.
He wasn’t a bad guy in one sense. He was constantly quoting scripture, telling me to pray, sending me sermons to read. He just wasn’t quite my type. I liked mysterious men – men with an edge to them, a slight aura of danger, and of course, men who would risk everything on an uncertain outcome.
He often sent me his work to edit for him and when he received my comments he would answer me with “Awesome!” or “I had my fingers crossed and you’ve inspired me to continue.” He told me often how inspiring I was to him.
One day he asked me, “Would you be happy to have me completely yours?”
“What are you talking about, Richards?” I asked.
“lol,” he responded.
“?????” I typed back.
“You are very important to me,” he responded.
“What are you trying to do Richards? It seems to me you are changing levels.”
“True say” he quickly typed.
I was more guarded after that. He was clearly not as he seemed, all innocent and wide eyed. No this man was a player. He had an agenda.
I took some time off from communicating with him.
“You kinda feel I don’t need you, ya?” He texted.
“I’m watching the Olympics,” I responded.
“How can the Olympics distract you from me?” He whined.
I forgot about him for a few weeks, happily pursuing other past times. Then one day I received this text: I wouldn’t mind hearing your lovely voice.
I decided then to put Richards to the test to see what he was really about. I decided to play the game, the battle of the sexes. And so we returned to the routine of talking together on skype, of posting and texting throughout the day. I feigned interest when he was dull or irritating.
He pushed things up to the next level. “Let me spoil you, only a little,” he told me. “I’m happy once your happy.”
And so it went round and round and round. Neither of us really winning, both intrigued by the battle. One morning I woke up with an epiphany of how to win. That evening I declared my “feelings” for him.
He responded in typical player fashion back tracking as fast as his honey tongue could travel.
“I appreciate the fact that you’re being honest with your feelings…I thought it was obvious that the arrangement was platonic or did I in any way do something that showed otherwise?”
I smiled to myself.
“Now it doesn’t mean that I haven’t thought of you in that fashion before,” he continued.
“But you know, I have to remind myself it will be a wild goose chase.”
He had fallen into the trap. The player had been outplayed in his own game.
Oh well, perhaps it will be good for us to take some time off and reanalyze the situation. Is this really a game?
Or have I begun to actually like this guy?
@ikeamadi on Twitter.
p.s Part 3 which I hope and pray will be the final part comes out soon. Thank you, dear readers for reading and pointing out inconsistencies in the previously posted story.
What a fine way to know that people actually do/did follow the story.