If you see Princess

WARNING: The post below is inordinately mushy. Read at your own peril. You have been duly notified.

Forgive this estrogen filled mush puddle. In fact, it’s my blog. Don’t forgive. Close the page if e worry you. First it was “The Sushi Burger” (read here) and now this. I can’t apologize but I do  intend to compensate: my next write up will have more gore than Bill Clinton’s vice. Yes, I made that dumb a** joke. It’s all the pent up mushiness joo. I am slightly ashamed to admit I like to write mushy from time to time. Someone observed that it was my way of getting in touch with my feminine side. But honestly, if I wanted to errrm touch my feminine sides any, I could always grab me man-boobs. (Yes. I popped another dumb one. Someone save me from myself!)

What you’re about to read is borne of a conversation I had with a friend about relationships and expectations and breakups. I felt inspired to ramble and ramble I did. Errrr… enjoy?


If you see Princess


Apparently, I’m not the perfect boyfriend. By God, I thought I was. While I was single, I thought my future girlfriend would be the happiest thing alive.

A few days nights ago, I left mine weeping.

I really thought I could be perfect though. I really did. Not because I was that cool, but because she was so deserving.

But now it’s all annoying… because the crazy chic didn’t even want my perfection. It now appears clear to my stupid stupid head (which I have smacked countless times in the last few days) that she just wanted me: warts, farts, barfs, gaffs and all.

Maybe if I’d figured that out, I wouldn’t try so hard to be the most awesome bomb-edness…

It’s weird how all those sh*t clichés come to play such important roles these days…

Like “Love is Pain.” Okay, ESPECIALLY “Love is pain…” These things we NEVER understand till we fall truly and deeply in love. While I have loved her, I have been in pain. Always been in pain. Because I know that she can hurt me. I am vulnerable to her touch. Her smile. Her wince. Her moan.

And her pain was mine. Is mine. My stomach still twists when I remember the sound of her sobbing over the phone.

“Honey, are you crying?”

“What are you saying? I’ve been crying since…” She’d wailed.

That last sentence sent me crashing down. To depths only matched by bereavement…

And we were a quirky pair. Other couples walked on the beach in picturesque fashion. Once, we lay down on my ageing mattress and played Hangaroo on my computer. If you’re not familiar, Hangaroo is a game where you answer 10 fill-in-the-alphabets questions in order to free a foul mouthed Kangaroo from an ominous noose. Every time I got a question right, I got a kiss. Not the English kind, I promise. I have never wanted to free that potty-lipped, vile beast more.

She cooked for me only once. It was so cute how she was oh so self-conscious about it. Tasted fabulous to me though. Maybe I was in love. Maybe the pancakes really kicked ass. Bottom line, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed her. Enjoyed her for whom she was; what she stood for. Even though half the time, we weren’t in agreement. And ours was not an expensive venture. It never has been. I don’t know why. Perhaps I should check her passport and confirm her nationality. Surely she can’t be ALL Nigerian???

You know your head is messed up when you love to hear someone whine. I’d just sit and chuckle while she ranted on the phone for twenty odd minutes about her relatives. Then I’d tell her it was fine and that I loved her. And then I’d secretly pray her Aunt went cuckoo again so that we could do it all over.

She is stunning in my eyes but I don’t dwell on that as much as I dwell on her scent. And how I give her goose pimples when I nibble at her nape. In truth, it takes quite a bit for me to regard a woman as beautiful. I can be a douche like that. I set high standards. Not that it’s a prerequisite though; but I set them anyway… She beat them all. No she didn’t actually. She wasn’t competing. She just set her own and made me flush with admiration.

So how did we get to the point where I made her wail? Another saying: ” na small shit dey stain pant.” But really, it’s the little things that hurt the most. I was… insensitive. I can only write this because I’ve stopped kicking myself. as for that evening, I could have worded that message sooooooo differently. I now realize my ass is something for sitting, Not for talking out of.

Any regrets? None. Really. Because I gave as good as I could. Whatever I did wrong was done because I knew no better. Not for want of trying. I never aimed to hurt. Never to cause pain. Yeah yeah… but I did anyway.

Previously, I used to think that if I loved someone but was causing them hurt, I ought to let them go. Nah. Call me selfish. I’d rather just be a better man dammit!

So if she’ll have me back, I’m not going to be impeccable or devoid of blemish. I’m just going to be all the rubbish she used to love before I farted through my mouth that day . Won’t even try. If I said I would be, that would actually make me seem even less so.

If you see Princess, help me tell her I’m not ready to be perfect… but I’ll be more than willing to be hers.


About cikk0

I think I'm proper sane. A lot of people seem to think different. Oh well... Locate a brother on twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/cikk0

Posted on January 24, 2012, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 56 Comments.

  1. Awww….

  2. Aaaaaaaawwwwww..u bera go nd grovel @ her feet

  3. Awwwwwwwwwwww
    The last line
    Awwwwww 😦
    The pancakes. . .errrm no comment
    But . . .
    Awwwwwwwwww ( -̩̩̩͡˛ -̩̩̩͡ )

  4. Badass! Send out the sequels abeg!

  5. Awwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!


    Pass the tampon..

  6. but we didn get to c wat u said 2 her???

  7. Hot Damn…You sir are officially sprung, and I thought my case was bad. Smh…I do hope this isn’t a true story tho, anyways..*now calling princess*….

  8. the one u said dat made her cry,i mean..

  9. Awwwwwwh Princess he’s sooorrrrryyyyy 😦

  10. “If I see Princess”, I’d take a shot at her 😐

  11. Dear cikk0, u know u don’t want me to say anything abi?

  12. Baba God, which year I go like woman like this? Abi cupid dey fear me? Make e shoot me this kind arrow now. Chris no worry, she must to collect you back utunu…

  13. lovely piece. one i can relate with

  14. I’m lost…but I guess u r lust…points for effort…mute on prose…but u left her smelling like a rose…I wish I met her,but then u wudda already had her…so guess I’ll wait till u decide her fate…

  15. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  16. This is just downright mushy!! Thank u 4 it. I can feel it all coming back to me now…

  17. At least now we know the real reason why you haven’t been giving us our regular blog posts. “Love-up nigga!”

    Dear Princess, please forgive this douchebag for whatever he said to you. Accept him back biko, he loves you and more… ABEG.

    P.S This time around make sure he writes more often, I know he’ll do it if you order him to. He’s sprung.

    Larry Sushey

  18. What tha flip???

    Niqqa’s be getting all mushy n shii these days…this what the strike done did to y’all?
    Now a whole grown ass man like Chris be spinning tales about how some chic cooked pancakes for ’em..
    And who bears princess these days? What coast she from (go figure..)

    And there’s my boy Vic in the comments confessing to being sprung..whaaa??? Nugwa asking cupid to shoot him, why Lord?? Terdoh be awwing like he being shafted up the arse..

    Shit ain’t right.

    Yo princess, whoever you are..stay away while I try to make a man out of this sissy. You don’t want no soggy bread dipped in tea type guy do u? DO YOU? I thought not…

    #NaWash… I like.

  19. Awwwwwwww……


    *sniff* THIS is soooo sweet. 🙂

  20. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! This is so ‘mushily’ sweet.

  21. i felt really weird after reading this! Mushy yet intriguing. ice one c1kko..

  22. First of all, lemme say thank you for introducing me to Hangaroo. I actually stopped reading and played a few games.
    This is what I have to say about this post: Princess must be pretty damn special to make you want to rescue that bad-mouthed, uncouth kangaroo. That kangaroo crazy yo!

  23. Heart breaker!!! 😦 I wonder if she’ll give u another chance.

  24. WOW…I’m in awe.
    Maybe ’cause I can totally relate to where you’re coming from or maybe cause it reeks of unabashed sincerity.
    Also, the saying ‘you never realise what you have till it’s gone’ is also very true.
    I hope your Princess comes back. Seeing someone u love slip through your fingers could easily be one of life’s greatest pains.

  25. Awww. Lol. This is so sweet. Pls take him back oh Princess.

  26. downloading Hangaroo. . .

    n1ce 1 c1k

  27. *Sweet* but ı’l rather nt drop another ‘awwwww’

  28. Awwwwww… you know that part when u said she set her standards and wowed u with it? Yeah.. Awww.. Mushy mushy. Too much Drake yh? I hope your princess comes back. 🙂

  29. Awwwwwww! (˘̩̩_˘̩̩̩ƪ) This was mushy in a good way. :”> No, the blushing is just an emoticon. I really didn’t blush. I’m gangster -_-

  30. mismanagedthoughtz

    oh? This isn’t mushy! At all!! Its a freaking illegal below he belt shot!! (And I don’t swear..much).

  31. Love dis

  32. Aaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Na my own long pass, haha sucker! :p)

    Now that’s out of the way,

    You apologize too much (your intro was funny, but still sounded like ’em, oga, pls don’t be offended but…’)

    You’re an azz for making her cry. Mschew. I know I taught u better! (Oya wait before u say anything rash)

  33. If only I knew who princess is, I will get an audio of this made and play it outside her window till she begs YOU to get back together. No mushiness here, just a man in touch with his feelings.

  34. Chris! Chris!! Chriiiiiiis!!!! Issokay….I reserve my comments 🙂

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