Letters from a Bunna Man: Letter # 6: The End

To whom it may concern,

I know it has been a few months since I have written to you, but I have been a little preoccupied with all the things that I have to do. Between my job as a software developer working remotely for an international company, my hobby building desks and dating Shy-Ann, I don’t have much time to write to you so often. I no longer consider myself a Bunna man, I have been transformed into a one burner man since Shy-Ann and I have been progressing steadily. We are taking the time to know each other at the most fundamental level, emotionally and mentally.

About a month ago, Shy-Ann invited me to dinner so I could meet her younger brother. She said he was having a hard time and that he was the definition of ‘salt’ even though he is unwilling to accept that his unfortunate situation was his fault. 

Her brother was engaged once, to a woman who lives in England and owned a few properties in Cherry Gardens.  While she was filing for his permanent residency, he was living the life in a three story, seven-bedroom house, with maids and gardeners and a swimming pool in the back. He even had a Porsche, managed one of her grocery stores and a specialty shop. Shy-Ann said at that time, she was a nobody to him while he was on top. He gave away all  of his previous possessions, furniture, clothes, stove and pots.

 Anyway, it all ended when the gardener who was the England lady’s cousin sent a video of her brother on his knees with his head between a much younger woman legs. There were also pictures of him and another girl who was wearing the lady’s robe twerking in her bed. She cancelled the filing process, sold the house without his knowledge, took back the Porsche and had him fired. He then married one of the girls that he was cheating with and told her he was retired. He had saved up some money from when he was living uptown, but that only lasted for a short while until he was hustling downtown.

I am sorry, I digress. I was telling you about meeting Shy-Ann's brother. On the day of the dinner, I was a bit nervous because I considered it to be a serious gesture. Shy-Ann and I completed the dinner preparation, and was just about done with setting the table when we heard the doorbell rang. I have never met anyone in her family before and I was concerned that her brother would scare me off, if he thought that I wasn't good enough for his sister. So, when she asked me to answer the door, I was having all kinds of jitter. I went and opened the door to greet her brother and for a few seconds my breath was trapped. Her brother had the same reaction, as he stood frozen in his tracks.

 Her brother was no other than matches-stick foot big ears Greg.  Dinner was very awkward for me and I was having mixed emotions and a bit of residual resentment towards Greg. I kept wondering if it was my Jezebel ex who he was caught with his head between her legs or was she the one in the lady’s robe shaking her flat-bridge ass in the lady’s bed.

 I tried my best to keep my composure and remind myself that I have a good thing going with Shy-Ann and, I should let go completely off the past. But then the Johncrow vomit, dog breath piece of filth had the nerve to say “I hope that this one will last”. That waste of space, frame of a skeleton, who look like he should be writing Johncrow a letter to come collect his carcass, had the nerve to laugh.  I lost it completely and was ready to whoop his ass.

 Shy-Ann stepped in between us and demanded to know what the outburst was about.  I was ready for her to tell me that it wasn’t going to work out and I should leave her house. I had to tell her how I knew his brother Greg, how I caught him with my then girlfriend of six years in my bed. She listened and said nothing, and I couldn’t figure out if she believed.

 

Greg confirmed the story and said that he was sorry. I reached in my pocket and handed her a set of keys. She rebuffed by hand and told Greg it's best that he leaves. After he left, we sat in the settee and she hugged me and just held me for a while. Then she spoke those three little words with tears in her eyes and the most beautiful smile. “I’m with child”. I started to cry and I am still not sure why. I have never known true happiness until that moment. That night marked the day I committed my body, heart and soul to her. She was my knight in shining armor.

 The next day she told me that Greg was no longer selling donuts, he has upgraded to selling ground produce on a hand cart and  he and my ex had parted. The purpose of his visit was to borrow money now that his divorce proceedings has started. My tormented hole ex got pregnant for the farmer from Portland who supplies Greg with coconut, banana and yam. It should have felt like sweet retribution, him being served a cold dish. But I actually felt sorry for him. Karma is indeed a bitch.

Anyway, I wish that you could come to our wedding and get to meet your God-daughter, but unfortunately justice won’t allow it until you have served all your time for manslaughter. I will try and write to you more and send pictures if I can. Until then continue to stay strong.

Your Best friend

George.