I met Waita at the gym. He was reserved and minded his own business. I would have never noticed him had we not had a group activity at the gym where we were paired.
There were cliques at the gym, and one group had loud men and women who thought they were cool. One always noticed their presence because they were noisy and could also be irritating.
The other group consisted of a few people, mostly women who struggled with working out. I belonged to this group. We spent more time complaining about the workouts than doing the actual exercise, at least for the first few weeks of going to the gym before we got a bit fitter. The rest of the gym members were loners who hardly interacted with others, and Waita belonged to this group.
We all had similar workout schedules and would meet at least thrice a week. The gym organized a hike, which was where Waita and I got talking. It was my first time hiking, and although I had gotten fitter after a couple of weeks at the gym, I still struggled. I was struggling to keep up with the team when I heard someone encouraging me.
“Here, use a stick to anchor yourself,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said as I looked up to see who the kind stranger was.
“We’re almost there, just dig a little bit deeper to get to the end,” he said.
“Have you done this before?” I asked him.
“Yes. I love hiking and everything fitness. I take it this is your first time?” He asked me.
“Is it that obvious?” I asked.
“Yep. Where is your usual crew?” He asked.
“My crew?” I asked him.
“The group you hang out with at the gym,” he said, chuckling.
“Why do I feel like that is a loaded question?” I asked him, smiling.
“Well, you must have noticed the dynamics at the gym too,” he said.
“Oh, so you’ve seen us struggling?” I asked. We laughed.
“At least you keep showing up,” he consoled me.
We spent the rest of the day together. I should probably say he spent the rest of the day motivating me and helping me when my legs felt shaky. He was very kind and made for great company. After that interaction, we exchanged numbers and started chatting more regularly.
About three weeks after the date, he invited me to our first date. He let me choose where I wanted us to go and even indulged in my preferences. I could tell he was out of his comfort zone, but he really wanted to please me. In our conversations, I had mentioned loving flowers, and he had been against flower-giving. He knew nothing about floral arrangements or types of flowers. He even thought it was a pretentious gesture and a cumbersome buy, but he showed up with a large bouquet of red roses.
He looked so relieved when he handed it to me, as though he couldn’t wait to be done with it, but we laughed about it. I appreciated the gesture. Waita was also clear that he wanted to date me. I loved his straightforwardness, too.
A couple of dates later, we needed to pick something from his place. I followed him inside. It was a relatively large house with good finishing. However, the mess in the house caught my attention. His curtains were visibly dirty, and the house was untidy. Since it had an open-plan kitchen, I could see the kitchen sink, which was full of dirty dishes.
“Welcome. This can be your place too if you agree to be my official woman,” said Waita.
“Thank you,” I smiled.
“Can you see how being a bachelor is difficult? If you were here with me I know this whole place would be clean and neat. It would have that feminine touch,” Waita told me.
His words caught me off guard. I had hardly processed my displeasure for the state of his house when he justified it with the lack of a woman. I was thirsty and had hoped to drink water when we got there, but I got grossed out. We left minutes later and went ahead with our plans for the day.
After the date, he took me to a romantic garden near Westlands. It was very scenic and set a romantic mood. As we enjoyed the calmness of the moment, he brought up the topic of dating again.
“I really like you and I have been clear about that from the beginning. I think you’ve had some time to think about it and I have even showed you my house, so can we make it official?” Waita asked me.
I couldn’t take my mind off his house and the subsequent remarks and expectations. The image of the dirty curtains came to mind when he mentioned his house. He touched my hand, nudging me to give him a response.
“Waita, I think you’re a fantastic man and I appreciate your honesty. However, I’m not ready to date,” I told him.
“You know you would live like a queen if I was your man,” he tried to persuade me.
“I have no doubt, I would but I’m not in the headspace to date right now,” I lied.
“Do you have someone else?” He asked me.
“No, I don’t. I am focused on working on myself at the moment,” I told him.
He tried to change my mind, but eventually, we left. I, however, never told him that I had begun liking him, but the state of his house bothered me, and his justification made me feel like he wanted a girlfriend who played the role of a ‘maid’. I didn’t like that he thought cleanliness had to do with gender.
