Unable to cheat on my Mzungu bae

Diary,

I’m well aware it’s not the best policy to toot one’s horn in polite society. But since no one else will, I have to give myself some kudos.

If you guessed I’m referring to my professional life, you’re not that far off. If my patient retention rate is anything to go by, then I’m a damn good doctor. But then again, you should expect someone who deals in life and death to be competent at it, right?

What I’m talking about is an achievement I haven’t been able to pull off for nearly 20 years. I’m talking about sex. That’s right. My American friend Harper has been living with me for over a month now, and for that long, she and I have been living like siblings. We spend the days together, eat together, drink together then retire to our separate bedrooms; she in the guest bedroom, I in the main one.

Don’t clap yet. This isn’t a feat I went out to accomplish. It only started because I intended to show her how much I wasn’t interested in her romantically, since I have this feeling I won’t remain a bachelor for long if I cross that bridge.

But boy oh boy, God only knows it’s been hard. Not only is this woman an amazing human being, she is also sexy as hell. A fact she’s been doing her darndest to prove to me.

I swear every time she stops by my door to say goodnight in sexy purple lingerie, my heart comes to a stop. I have to keep reminding myself that I want nothing temporary with this woman. It wouldn’t be fair to her.

And it’s not like I haven’t tried to end this damn celibacy. Last night, I went on a date with another very pretty woman, only to catch myself mid-monologue yapping about how I felt like I was cheating on Harper though we aren’t dating.

My date shot to her feet and shouted for all and sundry, “What the hell?” (That last word started with a “H” but trust me, it wasn’t hell). “You have another woman? You cheating bastard. I have a mind to call her and tell on you.”

Smiling, I proffered my phone. “Please do. She’s saved under ‘Harper’. That’s H-A-R—”

“Jesus Christ!” She picked up her bag. “I’m out of here. You’re a psycho, mister.”