Ghost

This.

This is the best thing you will ever read if you live in Kigali.

Truly spot on.

In the cold light of day, I would like to apologise for the original post of this title that I made at 4am this morning having crawled in from Sundowner (without #5 - having anything stolen - I hasten to add).

You should never, ever blog when drunk. Especially John Legend lyrics. That was obscene and uncalled for. I am very sorry and can only hope that between 4am and waking with an incredible hangover and no voice left at 9am, when I reached for my phone and reverted it to draft, nobody was actually awake anywhere in the world to read it.

I wish I could say that I have reflected on the sentiments written in that post and woken far more sane and mature.

Sadly, I think I may be in real trouble.

To recap in coherent language:

Went out and had a mad night with a lovely, beautiful lady I used to know five years ago. She's currently working in Pakistan where she's on lockdown most of the time, shut in her house, no drinking or skimpy tops. So we decided to do the full shebang tonight. Get it all out of her system. Went to a local bar for food and a couple of beers, then on to Papyrus for more of the same, and ended up in Sundowner dancing at 2am.

A truly lovely, wonderful night. Fascinating five-year catch up.  

But my whole world is on its head. 

As we were leaving Papyrus, I heard someone call my name. 

'Yes?' I said, turning.

I didn't recognise him at first, he's bulked up a bit and has dreadlocks. Also, I just assumed he was in Uganda.

It was D.

You'd either have to know me or know my old blog to understand the significance of this.

Kigali is a total box. You can't go five paces without bumping into someone you know. But him. There. Back road, middle of nowhere (well, Kimihurura), two in the morning.

I just stared at him.

I couldn't think of anything to say.

I stared so long he apologised for taking up my time and was about to walk away. All I could do was shout 'No!'

My friend said his stare was 'intense' - she didn't know whether to step in and rescue me or leave us alone. She said I looked as though I'd 'seen a ghost,' and that's exactly what it felt like. So many memories came flooding back that I'd forgotten. Good memories, despite all the rest. I wasn't all that kind to him at times.

Anyway, I managed to pull a card from my bag and gave him my number. He said he'll call today.

It was as though five years had never even happened.

I don't know if he'll call. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't. He's probably married with kids by now anyway. Guys like that don't stay on the open market for long, especially looking like he now does. If he's learned to play a guitar since I left, there's probably a queue of ex-pat girls round the corner waiting for him.

Do I want to know how he is? How his life has been? Why he's still here? Would I like to apologise for the way things ended?

Yes, probably. If he calls.

Would it end there?

Probably not. I've always been in trouble with him. If it does end there I'd rather not have known he was about. I'm not sure we could ever just be friends, it was an all or nothing attraction with us.

I don't think I could do that again.

I just want more of the other week: some fun, some freedom. We were just never simple.