TRULY, MADLY, DEEPLY

So it all started with a little bit of boredom and well facebook too. The girls and I previously had this debate about superficiality and how personality never got you a first date.
But as you can imagine that debate didn’t exactly come to a halt. So, me being Ms super duper ideas, I said we might as well find out to satisfy our curiosity. Ok, it wasn’t the most original of ideas but I figured “what the hell” we might as well try. There the girls were, still itching to know what the idea was.
Well I figured we create a new facebook profile with a perfect beauty, see how many people accept her invitation without questions, and maybe see how many guys would start sending marriage proposals without a clue who she was.
I know, not that grand an idea after all ehhh.

So the creation of my new alter ego started. she was into singing and performing plus she was a God fearing girl who liked to meet people and had fun. Oh less I forget, did i mention that she was in an open relationship, a dead giveaway that she wasn’t very much of a real character.
We found her photo on some Naija singles online dating network. She was everything I wasn’t, her legs stood at akimbo. She wore this outfit that accentuated her small waist and rounded hips. She still had that space between her thighs that everywoman died for. Her breasts were pert, they defied gravity and you could tell that they still had that giggle to them. She wore lose waves on her hair and her skin was like melted chocolate, like me it wasn’t dark or light but that world of two places. She genuinely looked like the girl next door but a perfect and effortless one.
So now Kike was born and every Naija popular jingo in cyber space wanted to be on her page.
After the first fifteen or so invites, everyone started adding her themselves. She was poked by a super producer, she got complements from an underground rapper and she even acquired some emails and phone numbers. Voluntarily of course
I vividly remember some guy telling her
“you have something that most naija girls don’t have, the looks. And I can make you a star”

It was going good so far but our little project was still lacking something. So Ms super duper ideas decided to take it a step further.
Pick a subject, send him a message and wait. But now the question was this, who was going to be the subject? I was always intrigued by the stereotypical and megalomania cal world of pop stars and somewhere deep down, I thought wouldn’t it be fun to flirt with hmmmmmmmmm????
The girls were a bit hesitant but I knew they really wanted to delve into this world just like I did.
Our pop star had been selected at random, he had a hit song, well he was in the spotlight at the time as well and there hadn’t really been much press news about him. Somehow, he made the perfect illusive pop star.
I sent him a message saying “hi I see you’r single, hope im not being too forward but I reckon we could chat sometime”.
His reply “you don’t seem like a typical Gidi girl but lollll forward is cool”

I could just cut and past the transcript but that would just bore you silly. We flirted a bit in the first couple of messages but before I knew it, behind my supposed egomaniac pop star was a real person. We talked about his chick drama and how it bothered him that he ended up looking like the bad guy at the end of things after stating his intents from the start.
I told him it was never a great idea mixing friendships and pleasure, and in the end he concurred. He gave me his phone number and email addresses. We moved from facebook to yahoo messenger. I had graduated from cyber stage one to stage two. Now I was falling. I recall hearing about the loneliness of pop stars and how their worlds had been turned insane by fame and phoniness. I started thinking I was his new haven and escape. He told me about himself, the dude behind the hit song, he was smart, he made fun of my slow typing. I replied “ I am dyslexic”.
He told me he would prescribe some Ritalin until I told him that Ritalin was for children with “attention deficit disorder”. Our conversation glided towards intellectual sparing and he still made fun of the fact that I couldn’t spell my own condition.
It was 1am in the morning and an hour before, I had already forgotten that I was meant to be someone else.
Earlier that day I asked him which he thought was more important physicality or personality? He said the physicality sparked interest but the personality was what sustained it. For a moment I wondered if I wasn’t her would he have this same sort of conversation with me?

We still chatted for the next hour; he was sensitive, human and had an incredible witt.

The bile in my stomach started to churn from the guilt that floated through my veins. I started thinking, I had to tell him I wasn’t the girl on the profile but I was enjoying this cyber release we were experiencing. He was smart so he caught up real quick. At this point my hypothesis was about to come to a dramatic end. He said his friend believed my profile was fabricated. I knew I had been caught and it could work either way.
I could just log out or jump the gauntlet and take the fall. I tried to explain that it was a little project and he was chosen at random but somewhere in the middle, the hypotheses went out the window and two souls had a connection. It was too late, he already thought of me as a fraud and a bit of a psyco actually. “I mean who does this he said”. I was still trying to convince him that people met in strange ways. He replied “this is such a f…..d up way to meet”
I could feel the blood boiling through his veins from the other side of my laptop screen. His anger had past maximum temperature. I felt his fury the same way I felt his passion. He had given himself to someone and I had committed a sacrilege with is mans soul. I did my best to apologize but the deed was done.
I still remember when he said my messages made him smile and he didn’t think there were good people left out there. My toes curled and I had that irritating lip biting look that every girl had when they had butterflies for the first time.

I didn’t sleep throughout the night. I bit my nails till they bleed, I think the churning in my stomach was about to turn into diarrhoea. My guilt and nerves had incapacitated me. I called him the next day, apologising profusely and ultimately revealing myself. He told me I didn’t need to do that. I was on his face book page and my cover was blown. He knew my name and surname. It meant he had glided through my photos when I added him. He was a pop star but still he noticed me.

He said he had accepted my apology but somehow I knew it wasn’t over.
I tried talking to him after and telling him a bit about myself but he wasn’t interested. I think he was already broken and betrayed. Somewhere deep down I wished he would see me as the same girl from our days in cyber heaven. I still longed to make him smile but I couldn’t. I guess in the end I experienced a cyber eclipse with my muse.
Everyday I still wonder, if I sent him the first message as me, what would be the story?
My curiosity propels me to wonder what really changed, was it because my name was different or I looked a little different?
I guess in all actuality, behind kike was me. I am her and she is me. Some might dispute just a different looking version but in essence I had always been the same person all along. The whole conversations were completely true and genuine. The only fib I told was about my profession, well that was for identity protection.
This all takes me back to the beginning of my story, remember the conversation between the girls and I, about physicality and personality, I’ll leave you to be the judge.