If you’re half in awe as me of the royal family, your mind probably went bamboozle and is wandering somewhere between Kate Middleton and the soon to be duchess of Cambridge Meghan Markle. You can’t be any further from the truth. I came to know prince Harry a few years back while watching William and Kate’s wedding. Which by the way was more of a history lesson than a leisure event because instead of wondering why the bridal gown was too unappealing for such a loaded people, my old man was there telling me the what’s and what nots of this mighty palace. And somewhere in between the ceremony, the camera person caught site of a woman carrying a placard written, ‘Harry will you marry me?’ It definitely wasn’t his girlfriend. You don’t propose to a prince in such an incongruous manner. But you have to give it this woman had guts. Too bad he found Meghan. And believe me when I say am waiting for their nuptial more than my last semesters results. I know. My priorities are out of whack.
I could go on and on spewing random synopses about the monarchy but no, I don’t want people dozing here!
So who the f*** is this DOK? She most certainly doesn’t have any connection with the royals. Or what could be the other possible excuse for missing out in the guest list? But you never know, never say never. Who would have thought Brad Pitt at 54 with all that handsomeness be struggling with girlfriend issues! Anyway, meet me, yes me. Sharoe is the DOK! This is the part you give me a standing ovation. Don’t look at me bad. Sorry to disappoint you. Trust me those words sound even crazier in my own ears. You have no idea how difficult it is for a woman to admit she’s head over heels in love with someone, much less over the media. Wait, how else do you think I became the duchess? Poor retard, sorry I forgot to mention you can’t be one without a duke.
As I hang out in a bit of limbo phase in the middle of the night, post supper but pre whatever is next because am a light sleeper and haven’t quite figured what will seduce me into sleeping, what better place to pass time than on Facebook? I scroll down very fast because I can’t risk something bad befalling me for disregarding or not typing amen to a post. Amidst the snubbing, something catches my eye. ‘Her name is Muthoni Omondi.’ If the controversy isn’t enough to win you over, try checking the lady in question. Don’t even go there, am straight. It’s her ‘alleged’ dad am swooning over. Covers face in little embarrassment. Am no genius at telling peoples heights just by looking at mere images but this duke is dark, handsome and has a personality attached to him somewhere, but who cares, that’s not where my focus was rooted. Let’s just stick to the sapiosexual me, okay? So this little princess is not only extremely beautiful but has dreadlocks. And to think the devil had given up in trying to inveigle me into sinning, she had them styled up exactly as mine at that particular moment. I know I love cheap thrills but to call this coincidence is an understatement. I’m going with fate.
In addition to everything else, the article was wowing to say the least. It left me hanging though. But is that not what good stories do? Nonetheless my stubborn self refused to remain hanging. So I put on my stalker boots and followed him, his blog I mean. His about page made my feet go numb and I just had to JumpStart to where it all began… 2013! That’s half a decade people. But you and I both know the lengths and heights one can take in the name of love. If not, how are you here? Scrolling down to the first post I almost had a heart attack. Or maybe I did for a while because there are a few seconds after I saw the topic and before I started reading that I can’t account for. The title read, ‘Thank you Sharon!’ Again I do not believe in coincidences. So I placed my phone slowly under my pillow and sought my King.
‘God, I think am seeing visitors. Or this love nonsense has actually taken a toll on me. Or maybe am just overreacting. Whatever it is, all I ask of is self control. Amen.’
It happens I read it out just correctly. His ex is a Sharon and he was writing her a poem thanking her for the time they shared bla bla bla. Phew! I was relieved. C’mon, not because they broke up! You think so low of me. I felt alleviated my visitors weren’t real.
To prevent any further unsteadiness, I scrolled up in search of any Sharon -related posts and boom! There it was, waiting on me like a crocodile waits to assail its prey. This time not about his ex but his daughter. No, not Muthoni. Her case remember is still an ‘alleged.’ He actually looks forward to naming his daughter Sharon. Who names their kids after their exes? I also learnt his highness duke of Siaya is a bachelor. Let’s marry already! On the contrary, we’re still in 2013. Who knows what I might find in his 2014, 2015 all through to 2018 posts? So no, I’m not misplacing my expectations, but rest assured my fingers are crossed as I go through the rest of his blog!
*End of gibberish*
What have I been saying? See, this is how it started with Bikozulu and Magunga. Just one post is enough to make you weak and drop on your knees. You fall in love, stay in love and cross your heart to never fall out of it. But unlike my duke, I won’t ambush them with a hug if I run in to them along the streets because they have a plus one and I happen to love my head where it is. How disappointing! But that’s all I want, another me for me. Like the lady on my cover, I want someone to get lost in my story regardless of where they are. I want a stranger to spend sleepless nights on my blog when they come across it on someone else’s timeline. I want to be the ground you find solace when you’re dispirited.
So help me God.
P.S. Harry and Meghan were named the Duke and Duchess of Sussex respectively.