So you want to get into that relationship. You have thought thoroughly and hard, have done your findings into his finance and have concluded that he is neither a drunk nor a womaniser, neither a gambler nor a porn addict. You are satisfied with his credit score, both friends and foe call him blessed. You have done your hindsight and over sight, and from all indications there is absolutely nothing wrong with this deal. He is handsome, muscular and frosh on many levels, magical and charming. Just the appearance of him makes you wet. You dream dreams of romance and love making with him, sailing with you to the unknown shores of love. You are sold out. You have chosen a wedding date, selected your bridal train, composed your wedding hymn, selected a minister in a Baptist movement to do the joining. You are ready to say I DO.
Hold on one moment.
Say you're taking a ride with him , say to the gas station, he is sleek and forming sexy and you're drowning in the love shots blasting from his sexy winks. You are love struck. You are choked and suffocating in his ambience, a cocoon of his magical gestures; there is no way out whatsoever.
He says in his most sexy voice, "Don't get lost in the chair sweet love, I'll just fill the tank and get back to you my love."
You smile. No. You blush.
He steps out of the car, makes a charming wink, then closes the door behind him. You're lost on blush island. You can't handle the truth.
Suddenly, while you're still trying to recover from the ambush of love that has so brutally encapsulated you in a cocoon of romantic splendour, while you bask from oversaturated experience, welling from love currents that's rendering you incapacitated, he jumps back into the car, panting, probably sweating, forming dead, as though suffering from a heart attack. You miss a heartbeat.
You ask, "what's wrong?"
He is really coughing, sweating and panting.
Now you are scared. You are crying and sweating. You ask again, tears flowing down your eyes. "Baby, what's wrong?"
Your life flashes before your eyes. It's like you're the one experiencing the out of body experience, watching your mortality slip between your hands; as though your life had arrived its final stop. Then he says, slowly pulling forward to look you in the eyes as he gives you a warm embrace.
"Baby," he starts, panting, "when I stepped out of the car. I thought I wouldn't see you again, I almost lost you. My breath stopped and it was like I was going to die without you by my side."
He smiles at you, so you know it was just a joke. You are there, staring at him, both shocked, in love, surprised, blushing and entertained.
"Come out baby," he says, "I need you by my side."
You stand by his side. He goes to the gas engine and pulls out the pump. All through the time he puts the gas nozzle in the car and back to the gas engine he does not take his eyes off you; instead turning his mind and body over to autopilot he fuelled the car and paid with ATM blindly but accurately, killing you with everything in him; His albs, his wrist, his voice, his winks, his smile.
You're smiling back, blushing, "what?" You enquire like you want him to stop, "just stop, you are killing me with your eyes," you say again. He makes a loud grin.
Suddenly his face changes. His sexy voice transits to the roar of a wounded lion. In an instant he transforms from angel to Lucifer.
You turn around to know what caused the sudden change. Some distance away from where you stood, you notice a younger, but less attractive guy. He probably was looking at you, sexily, maybe inappropriately. Maybe he was whistling at you, but since you have been captured by the floods of charming smiles of dearest prince charming, you hear nothing.
Your captain handsome goes for the kill, smashing his fist against this guy's face. He beats the living hell out of him and wouldn't stop until a police siren sounds in the distance. He stops. The police asks him to leave. He turns to yell at you, ordering you to get into the car. You're scared. Looking at his face, you see fire in his eyes. You rush to the car, close the door on the front passenger side, beside the driver sit. He slams the door beside himself and races off like he was some F1 driver.
While he's driving he tells you he loves you and that you are everything to him, that he does not want to loose you and that if you leave him alone he will take his own life. You think about it. He was fighting to protect you, he can't do without you. The guy acted inappropriately and your savior was standing with his cape tied to position.
He says, "I love you baby," and you return, "I love you too."
Baby gurl snap out of it. You are about to get killed. You are in love with a monster and if care is not taken, he will come for you. Believe me. He will.
It's like the story of a lion who goes out for the hunt and finds nothing. If after spending days in the jungle and finds nothing, that lion will return to eat her child. You are as vulnerable as that child and he is the lion in the wilderness waiting for the kill.
If your boyfriend can zoom from angel to Lucifer in less than ten seconds, you gotta run baby. If your boyfriend can beat someone with bare hands till he is bleeding from all sides, run away. He can get you killed with ease. It is true that the most handsome and easy going has the wrath of Hades and the temperament of hell. You must be sure of what love you have for this monster, before its you ended in his jaws
I understand that jealousy is a very powerful tool for love, that it is through jealousy that you can tell that there are some elements of love and affection. I understand, but uncontrolled jealousy can kill you. Extreme jealousy will kill you. If this is your man, run away before he turns his anger from the enemy to you. Save yourself, run from the ticking bomb, the impending disaster. Run from this guy before he brings another woman to your funeral.
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