It is said that the heart wants what the heart wants, even that which is harmful for it. True, the heart basks after what it needs, however, what happens when its too naive to decipher that which will lead to its doom? You don't understand? Let's proceed.
Love is a powerful force and feel, a strategic fount situated in certain stages of anyone's life's journey, that when she gets to that spot, she knows that the only medicine to the sickness of the heart is the love of a man. This inadvertently compels a limping heart to the search for a prince charming, and if he comes in tall, muscular, charming and attractive frame, with sweet husky voice, regardless of how much bad talk trails him, if the heart has picked him, her heart must have him.
I must establish that according to psychology, men respond to what they see and women to what they hear. Thus, the yearn for the average woman to look stunning in expensive clothes, even them beyond her means, and for men to speak with the voice of GOD, words so charming that Mona Lisa would lend a wink.
I must also establish that women naturally have a yearn for acceptance, for love, for satisfaction and for assurance in an uncertain future. It must be established that women are as stated in both legend and scriptures the weaker vessel, and that men must love their partner as Christ loved the church. Thus the supposed search by women for men who not only have the looks but the means to take care of their basic needs. This inspires the search for men who can be loved, not just for their looks but for what they can give. Men know this, that the fastest route to a girl's heart is a fat bank account, glamour and power and glory, a secured future, and with lips that talk rhema, no girl shall by any means snub him.
However, this is the rhema that crush hearts, trap ladies in a loop of broken dreams, frustrated endeavours for love, expectations that become mere mirage, that eventually becomes broken promises, shattered dreams, labour or efforts and sacrifices that eventually amounts to nothing, drowning Cinderella in a pool of her tears.
This happened some years back.
A certain woman met her prince charming, tall and muscular, well dressed and well fed.
He had the voice of angels and strolled giant strides with the strength of Hades. He was the living god of sexiness and charm, the perfect man, looking sexy in suits and prints, t-shirts and round necks. His swag was immortal. To her, this was love at first sight and no matter the conditions she would encounter afterwards, he would never let her go.
She grew stronger in love, fending so many times for the needs of this relationship. He was smart, seemed rich, and since she didn't want to suggest that she was in love for the wealth, didn't mind paying some of the bills. He also covered a lot of costs. He was the man and played his role well.
At certain times they'd talk serious, but all of the times, he'd magically turn her quest away from the probes for answers. She'd ask for where he works or what he does for a living. He's answer always was that he runs businesses and that he has properties scattered around the state. She wanted to see them, at least, seeing is believing. He'd answer, charmingly, "you should trust the truth in me, and that I can't lie to you."
She'll reason, she'll retreat, but when she wants to come for the probe, probably after moments of pregnant silence, with her probing to align the truths, he'll say, "you should fall in love with me for who I am and leave material possessions away from this love chemistry, at least for now."
She noted, but didn't relent.
After months of dating. He finally gave in.
On a Saturday he took her for lunch, and afterwards to a series of stores--mini malls. They looked well furnished and high browed. As she followed him, taking a tour of this particular mall, something she noticed was that everyone paid respects to him. She was sceptical.
He'd leave her side at some points, from time to time, taking notes and pointing corrections. As he spoke to staffs, they took note and effected corrections as he made them. She turned to some staff on her side, asking, "what's happening?"
"Our boss just made an emergency visit," she answered as she hurried some carts to position.
Wow, she thought, this isn't true. She had fallen in love with a business mogul. He had taken her to a series of stores.
"This is just one of my many investments, and for you is them all," he said, speaking over the background of her obvious blush.
"Listen to me," he continued, looking intensely into her eyes.
"Let's get married in some months time."
She belched. Absolute reflex. She couldn't believe her ears. A business mogul just took her from mere girlfriend to fiancé, wanting to marry her. He pushed further with his plans but suggested that she pays a lot of the bills.
"I am under audit as we speak, because of how complex the businesses I run is, and for this reason I won't be able to make major payments out of the bank. I can cover a lot of costs, but you will have to handle a lot of the deal. When things are settled, I'll reimburse you, with interests."
She should have said no, but who would? The businesses were doing well, staffs in their numbers saluted the great king. They listened to his voice, his every wish was their command. That was all the collateral she needed.
The wedding came. It cost them eighty thousand dollars to materialize a fairytale wedding. She had a good credit score and some friends to borrow from, thus, the bill was paid.
Afterwards the truth came knocking.
He'd stay home several days, drinking and surfing the web, betting on teams and games from soccer, to rugby to basketball, many of which ended up with him losing money. She'd come in late from work and still have to cook. She'd try to raise concerns about the loan and the reimbursement he promised. In response, he'd yell, insult her, dismiss the need to hold any conversation and urge her to hold on until after the audit, and federal government investigations on his businesses, and state government's probe and a hundred other government actions he says is affecting every other business only he knows.
A certain Saturday she went grocery shopping, and happened to be driving by one of the malls she had been taken to.
"Hello, you remember me," she started at the lady she had encountered the last time she was at the mall. The lady didn't seem to remember her, rather slitting her gaze as she probed the woman that had just stormed the mall, asking to be remembered.
"I was here with your boss, some months ago, remember?"
At this the lady burst into a torrent of laughter.
"That bozo still owes us five thousand dollars," she said, laughing as she pushed the set of carts away.
She couldn't believe what she had just heard. She turned to another fellow, who had been listening in on the conversation.
"I'm sorry mister," she started working towards him. "I don't quite understand what she said," she continued.
"Let me break it down for you," the gentleman started, advancing slowly towards her as she stopped in her tracks.
"The guy who brought you here the other day paid these staffs to make it seem like he owns the place. He paid them for the performance. He doesn't own this place."
She fainted.
To be continued in the next issue, how to spot a fake.
In this issue we see what ladies need in a relationship; we see their quest for love and acceptance and the need to have a man that will love her and fend for her needs, both in the short term and long term. We see that when they spot this, they'd most likely be desperate and wouldn't mind bearing certain cost to see their Cinderella dreams come true. In the next issue we will probe how a lady can know a fake and liar and how to get rid of them.
No comments:
Post a Comment