Writers 
I nearly confessed my feelings to a girl who had invited me out to help her get another man.
There’s this girl I’ve liked for a while.
Not the normal “she’s fine, let me shoot my shot” kind of like.
I mean the type where you start noticing small things about her that you probably shouldn’t even be noticing. The way she laughs. The way she says certain words. The way she randomly disappears from WhatsApp and comes back like nothing happened.
Yeah.
That kind of like.
And the annoying part?
She knows.
I know she knows.
Even her friends probably know.
I had never officially told her how I felt, but honestly, I thought I was making it obvious enough.
One evening, she suddenly texted me:
“Are you free tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something.”
I read that message about seven times. I even put my phone down and picked it up again.
Because when a girl you’ve been crushing on suddenly tells you she wants to “talk about something,” your brain will immediately start writing a movie that nobody asked for. 😂
I started thinking:
“Finally.”
“God has remembered me.”
“Maybe she has been waiting for me to make the first move.”
I started imagining the conversation.
Maybe she would tell me she liked me too.
Maybe she would say she had noticed everything.
Maybe I would finally tell her how I felt.
At one point, I had already mentally planned our first date.
Meanwhile, this girl had not even said “I like you.”
Love can humble somebody.
The next day, I dressed properly and went to meet her.
I tried to act normal, but inside me, there was a full presidential campaign going on.
When she saw me, she smiled.
“Thank you for coming.”
I smiled back.
“Anything for you.”
That line came out too quickly.
I should have controlled myself.
Then she said:
“I actually need your help with something.”
That was the first red flag.
But when you like somebody, your brain ignores red flags and starts seeing green flags.
I told myself:
“Relax. Maybe she’s just nervous.”
She brought out her phone.
Then she said:
“I like someone.”
My heart skipped.
Just one sentence.
“I like someone.”
At that moment, I genuinely thought the universe had finally answered my prayers.
I was already preparing my response.
I thought, “This is it.”
Then she continued:
“But I don’t know how to approach him.”
My smile became smaller.
I laughed awkwardly.
“So why are you telling me?”
She looked at me and said:
“Because you know him very well.”
I went quiet.
“Who?”
She turned her phone towards me.
And there he was.
MY OWN GUY.
I stared at the picture.
Five seconds.
Maybe six.
I honestly needed my brain to process what I was seeing.
This was the same guy I had been telling her about.
The same guy I had casually mentioned whenever we were talking.
The same guy I thought she was trying to talk to me about.
I looked at her.
She looked at me.
Then I asked:
“So you invited me here to help you get my own competition?”
She burst out laughing.
“Please, just help me.”
At that point, I wanted to laugh.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to ask God for a refund.
But somehow, I still agreed to help her.
Of course I helped her.
Because apparently, when you’re in love in Nigeria, you can become a relationship consultant for the person you actually want. 😭
I started giving her advice.
I told her what kind of things my guy liked.
I told her how to start conversations with him.
I even helped her think of what to say when she wanted to message him.
Read that again.
I was coaching another woman on how to successfully get the man I was secretly hoping to date.
If that is not suffering, I don’t know what is.
Two weeks later, they started talking properly.
One month later, they were dating.
And me?
I was still single.
But my problems didn’t end there.
Because whenever they had an argument, she would call me.
“Please talk to him for me.”
Sometimes she would send me screenshots.
“Look at what he said.”
I would read everything like I was their relationship therapist.
Then I would call my guy:
“Bro, what did you do this time?”
At this point, I wasn’t even their friend anymore.
I was their relationship customer care. 😂
The funniest part is that both of them trusted me completely.
She trusted me because she thought I was just helping her.
He trusted me because I was his guy.
Meanwhile, nobody knew that I was the only person in the middle who was actually suffering.
Sometimes I would see them together and just smile.
People would probably think:
“Ah, this guy is happy for his friends.”
Happy?
My brother, I was managing my emotions like someone managing fuel during scarcity. 😂
Till today, I still don’t know what hurt more.
The fact that she didn’t like me…
Or the fact that I personally helped my replacement get the job.
And the most painful part?
She still thinks I’m such a good friend.
Maybe I am.
Or maybe I’m just a man who needs to start saying “No, I’m busy” whenever a girl I like says:
“Can I see you tomorrow?”
Because sometimes, you think you’re going for your own love story…
Only to discover that you were invited for casting and recruitment. 😂
Be honest… if you were me, would you still help her, or would you quietly disappear?
