Life could not be better than this. There was a wide smile in the sunshine as soon as I landed on the Barbados beach port. The mood was joyful and soothing. It was midday and as soon as we were escorted to our hotel and checked in, I went out to the beach. The sun was kind on the clear light blue sky. Oh, what a fantastic spectacle. The sandy beach was white as a bride’s gown. No dirt or any controversial color alongside the long beach, except for the shades of palm trees along the beach. I was happy, I forgot the last twelve months of my life which had been difficult. I was smiling at the ocean, patting the smooth beach sand, and winking at the tall palm trees. I thought I was saying hi to angels, and then I realized they were hot Barbadian pleasure girls who took an interest in me. We introduced ourselves, talked, and laughed. And I was elated each time they laughed at my silly jokes. They were sent to me as complimentary by the hotel management.
Barbados is an island country in the West Indies, between North and South America, more to the south but geographers placed it in the northern continent. It has a big tourist destination and is famous for its beautiful botanical gardens and five-star beach hotels. It is a haven for honeymooners and romantic getaways, but you’ve got to have a heavy purse to enjoy the pleasure that it offers.
The cute multiracial girls in bikinis had no problem touching my arm and here and there. I held them by their waist and they laughed and one kissed my head. They asked to take me to a private cabin that had a small pool and I agreed. There, they upped their game. I was made to lie down beside the pool with nothing but a fancy towel on my waist. One of them slid some ice cubes slowly down from my forehead downwards while others massaged my limbs and ribs. I realized that I had a six-pack athletic body and was handsome, which must be appealing to them. I knew what was following after this; I was eagerly waiting for the kisses and love but still showed patience. My body was semi numb, in receiving mode. And the beauties accelerated my yearning by blowing soft air behind my ear lobes. I was about to explode, then from the entrance of the cabin, my ex made her way in. I was surprised and confused. She came and stood right ahead of my feet. She gave me a mixture of a mocking and pity look like she was asking me “really?”
“What are you doing to me?” I asked in a sad angry tone. She remained silent but still wore mockery on her face. By this time I was panting and it was showing. The Caribbean girls had stopped giving me pleasure at her entrance. I felt like a cow taken to a haystack and being denied the meal. “Have mercy on me.” I pleaded and began calling out her name over and over until I heard a flicking sound of fingers.
The hypnotherapist later said she had to bring me back after seeing that I was exhibiting troubled signs like sweating and crying out a name. I had decided to engage her services after many months of her trying to convince me. I regarded hypnosis as fake science but each time we argued she promised to take me to happy places and exterminate my worries. Barbados was my first happy place, and my ex came to ruin it.
So, I was not really in Barbados. I was just here in Kibaki Estate, Kona ya mtongwe, Likoni area of Mombasa city. Looking outside my window, I could see small dry grass fields and some half-built houses. It was silent but not as cool as Barbados.
What is it about exes that you can’t delete once and for all by just rubbing your two fingers? You say it’s over, but over isn’t over until after 3 months or six months or even years to some. We let them go, but memories keep coming back now and then. We wished them well because we are good human beings. But it seems not all wish them well, some would like them to suffer so that they can laugh at them.
My problem, however, is not the bad wishes or good at all. It is haunting. My ex has been coming to me since I started pursuing happiness. It seems she doesn’t want me to be happy. I know this is crazy because she might be somewhere minding her own business having nothing to do with this. But, why is this happening to me? These haunting problems started about eight months ago, a year after we said goodbye. She used to come to my dreams. Not every dream, just the ones that cute girls are in it. She would remove the bed sheet that I and my dream girl are using to expose us and ruin my appetite. Once I thought of carrying on, but it’s not something you enjoy when your ex is watching.
Dreams were not working out; she always found her way in them. Staying awake ruined my health. I thought of psychiatrists for a while, then the idea of my secrets out, held by another person repulsed me. I thought of writing her a letter, asking her to go back to her witch doctor if she bewitched me. But they would be baseless claims since I had no proof.
My hypnotherapist asked me if I was over her, my ex? I could see it in her eyes that she suspected I was still into her. I told her I don’t want her back. I don’t have any love for her so yes, a hundred percent over her. She asked, then why do you bring her into your dreams? I said I don’t, she comes at her own will. That’s not possible, she said. Then I don’t know, I continued. I don’t want her, and I want to have fun with other girls. Never have I hated her so much than when she emerges in the middle of my dreams and fantasies, just about when I’m about to be satisfied.
This is a problem, a big problem. So Doc, do you have working suggestions of how I can get rid of her? I was still on the sofa in my humble abode where the hypnotherapist agreed to come and work her magic on me. She suggested I should start dating, but I told her I had developed a suspicion of any girl being nice to me. I suspect they are a setup, the motive is to hijack me to my ex. “That is Paranoia Ahmedinho, I can recommend a pill for that.” What she said was untrue I thought, but there might be some tiny truth in it. Has it come to this, requiring me to take a pill, like a mental patient? I would never agree to that. All the suggestions that my hypnotherapist friend suggested seem weird and unacceptable to me. She strongly suggested seeing a psychiatrist as a last resort but I wasn’t prepared for that either.
“Let’s find another happy place.” At last, I suggested. She resisted, saying it was a temporary solution that will never bring a cure, but I managed to talk her into sending me again to Lalaland. She swung a silver pendulum east and west as I lay face up on my comfortable sofa. She Chanted some words in Mayan and after a flick, I was in Bali. Beautiful Bali.
