My Perfect shoe.

Right size, perfect shape, correct balance. Oh but ofcourse not forgetting the colour to complement your legs complection and shape. Who doesn’t want one. We use shoes to get by everyday. The comfortable they are – the better the day we will have and oh well the opposite can be said about the not-so-comfortable. Each race we run, we make sure we are geared with the right pair. We go to work with stilettos or maybe palms or maybe snickers whatever the profession you’re in you make sure you’ve got the right shoe on.

Oh my aren’t we fussy about the shoes we buy, I am a shoeholic and so will my many girlfriends agree with me. I will use my last cent to buy a pair of shoes that my heart won’t say no to! I looked at this and I thought to myself almost the same criteria we use to buy shoes or love the shoes we have, falls just how we use the same tactics about “our perfect man”!

His profession, complection, height, and will he complement you? Those are the basics we ask ourselves. Trust me there is a whole of shibang list, the above is just the introduction on the book “My perfect man” that’s a story for another day though.

The other day I sat and thought to myself he he he of all the relationships we’ve all been to, how many did we convinced ourselves that he was the one? Ubaba wezingane zakho? Yohhhhhh I laughed and couldn’t believe.

This is the story, this post is dedicated to her. I won’t say her name but will call her chomee ya Lunga. She asked me to do a piece about her love life. I asked her to send me a draft, and I’ll edit here and there and post it for her. As I went through her notes I found myself laughing ukuthi dayyyyaaaaammm mina naye have almost traveled the same path.

She had her first kiss at 15 mine I was 16 and in grade 11 – geez how slow were we considering how quickly kids these days pass the teach me how to kiss stage. Tjo!

She’s been in love a few times or maybe she thought it was love. I mean what does a teenager know about the L word. *sigh* anyway each of her breakup she always felt miserable after. She explains to me that it felt like a certain part of her was taken. I’m like child if you keep loosing those certain parts you’ll end up with No-thi-ng.

She had a relationship she tried to make the shoe fit, even if it was the wrong size but as long as she had the shoe she was happy. The nigger was married, he made her happy and did everything right with her. Everything was falling into place with both of them. And then a year went by she realised the relationship was just stuck on replay. They weren’t going anywhere. She ended things. Devastated and mad at herself she survived and was calm at the end of it all. With a lesson (leave peoples things alone).

Yes we’ve all kissed a few frogs in hope to finding our Prince charming!, each “man” we had got involved with, at that specific time – we wanted to make him be the one. We desperately wanted him to be the one you’ll take home to mom and dad. Ohhhh but I’m glad we never did. This takes me back to the piece I did a while back about soul mates. Eish mara growing up yah!

The very same story goes for the shoes we love so much. When we get a pair, we think it can take us to all occasions. Will look good on every outfit we put on and will be with us forever. Only until it starts loosing shape, runs out of soul, becomes uncomfortable and shame the colour starts to fade.

Same goes for the man ha ha ha ha. They get comfortable and stop making efforts to keep things going as soon as the relationship passes the honeymoon phase, you find just yourself pushing the car only to find there isn’t anyone controlling the staring wheel. You get tired and out of breath and decide nah…. This push skorokoro is not going anywhere.

I wish we all can find our perfect shoe, and keep it forever. That it won’t get tired and worn out. The one that’ll fit us forever.

To you and you and you and myself let the perfect shoe search begin.

By Chomee ya Lunga and Lunga.

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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