My celebrity obsessed mate

From trusted to busted; is his status in my life. He is not worth a hill of beans, so sending him packing is simply ideal.
Lillian Nakayima
Lillian Nakayima

From trusted to busted; is his status in my life. He is not worth a hill of beans, so sending him packing is simply ideal. I can’t stand looking at a 32-year-old obsessed with celebrities! I once tolerated his Rihanna, Beyonce and Lady Gaga’s racy posters all over his bedroom wall but not anymore.

“Don’t worry baby, this is just a temporary phase, I know it’s ludicrous,” he said. Ludicrous, jeez! Even with the constant threats to leave him, he couldn’t work on his wanna-be celebrity language! Thank God I got the sense to walk out him before he started calling me Beyonce!

Sulking or grumbling all day won’t help a boyfriend or husband with an obsession for celebrities. The most logical thing is to quit rather than wait for experience to teach you a lesson.

The celebrity syndrome ruins families and relationships. I don’t hate celebrities, what I hate is the way people get addicted to them, their style and way of life, as if they have nothing better to do.

“We should go bowling this evening,” my ex once suggested. He didn’t even know how to play the game but suggested it nonetheless because it is what they do in the movies!

We were once an ordinary couple, seeking company and love in each other’s arms. This was rudely interrupted by his complaints about my looks that I became so insecure! He made me settle for a short hair cut to mimic Rihanna, then barely three weeks into the new look, demanded that I switch to Nicki Minaj’s outrageous long hair-do!  

 “I am not God or a wizard that I can make my hair grow overnight. This is what you wanted, so why the sudden change?” I gallingly asked.

His response almost won him a slap. “I now prefer Minaj to Rihanna, it’s that simple.”

Our dating now revolved around Hollywood dress code, recent movies, great designer names, which I could stomach. What ruined it all was his clear obsession with hot celebrities.

He would fantasise about them and his mantra was about how he would kill to date one of them.

“Which sane guy lets Kim Kardashian go? Her looks would keep any guy around,” he said.

He was right about one thing though; he would never get the chance to meet any of those stars. But if wishes were horses, I bet he would be somewhere in America flirting with the first celebrity coming his way.

If I had to sit and listen to him talk about Angelina Jolie’s lips one more time, I was going to slit my wrists! So I dumped the fool and told him to go try his Luck. I’d simply had enough!

 

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