Some of us have begged for love.
We’ve chased it as one who chases cars in his mind.
We say we deserve better yet we settle
for lesser than less and we hold on tightly even when we’re being spat on and our hearts are trampled upon like grasses..
Still, we hold on.
We find a bit of happiness and place it in the hands of one who is in pursuit of it.
This post probably lacks my jokes (probably because I’m still in a season) but in it lies all my honesty (if that is even correct English). It has two seasons-spring and summer.. The next post will be about the other seasons.
As usual I’m up for one on one analysis.
The first man I loved never loved me back.
He was a very tall man who had a boyish grin. He had beady eyes that got smaller whenever he smiled. HE was light skinned and had the smooth skin of a woman. His words were slow and pretty convincing. His voice was a dream-it sounded like a lullaby in my ears. He would lift me up in his strong arms and I would wait for the very moment I would feel safe. Every time he walked away, a piece of my heart walked with him; and he was unaware-he was unaware how much I looked forward to seeing him. He was unaware of how much I looked forward to the moments our paths crossed. He was unaware how much I held on to his words like they were life…I would hold on to every letter, every phrase, every punctuation mark; afraid that if I missed a tiny detail, it would be the end of me.
I loved him with all I had-my smile, my eyes, my hands, my feet, my prayers-all I had screamed Love; love that was never returned. Never.
I loved again.
He was a boy and I was a child.
I knew better not to love a boy and I thought my heart was entirely mine. I knew boys break things. I knew one of the things boys didn’t consider breakable was the heart. I knew if he broke it, he would walk away and still testify ‘innocent’. I knew he was probably way out of my league. I knew the first man I loved left me in a lorn-a cold, lonely street; dominated by thorns. He walked on and never looked back. Not even with the way I wailed and called out for help.
The thing is, I knew how I felt when he smiled. I knew the way my heart skipped when he walked into a room. I knew how cold I would get when he sat next to me. I knew how many times I replayed his voice in my head before going to bed. I knew our conversations were remembered by me verbatim. I knew his silliness fascinated me. I knew my heart sank when I wasn’t the one he saw. I knew I felt bad when he was sick. I knew how glad I got when something good happened to him (without being a part of it.) I loved him and if he was aware and did nothing, I have no idea. When I asked the first boy I loved if he felt anything-anything at all, he said “You are a good friend to have.” “I’m just a child” I told myself. #sigh#
Some months ago, I had a talk with Pastor Seyi (The head Pastor of The Dream Centre Ibadan)
Pastor Seyi has been a source of inspiration and support to me. After he read my posts on pornography (struggles 101 and The Good, bad and the ugly), we inevitably
became good friends. We would sit in office and talk about any and everything. It was during one of our honest conversations, he asked me if I was dating anyone. It felt awkward discussing my Boys’ drama with someone above 30 who was not Mfon (o! Trust me; the best person to discuss boys’ drama with is definitely Mfon. Ask Ilo or Amara or Prisca or Ilo again!).
So, here I was: sitting opposite Pastor Seyi who is by the way flipping through a book. He waited for me to stop stalling. He waited for me to think.
I cleared my throat (my ultimate giveaway when I get really nervous). I opened my mouth and all I could day was ‘’Well, I sorta kinda have this thing with this guy. Nothing serious.” He didn’t say a word. I knew that meant “WHEN YOU GET TO THE PART WHERE I UNDERSTAND YOU, I’LL ASK FURTHER QUESTIONS.” I cleared my throat again and said “He doesn’t want anything serious and I’m super cool with it.”
“Are you?” He cut in.
“Well, I am. Absolutely. Like seriously…ehm. Okay (I paused) I’m not. But, you don’t expect me to force a guy to go into something he’s not ready for.”
“Then, why are you still there Esther?” He dropped the book finally and looked at me. I bowed my head. “Why are you still with this guy?” He asked. I avoided his face. This situation was awkward enough.
I smiled and said “He’s difficult. He used to be all over me when he was chasing me. Now, he gets mad all the time. He says I’m difficult. I think he’s difficult. I like the difficult ones. He likes me a lot. He wants to be with me.”
“But?” Seyi asked.
I looked at him and said “I fear that I would want more; which is not cool because I’m not wired for relationships. I like to end it in I like him, he likes me but we can’t be together. I just don’t feel safe in a relationship.”
He looked at me and said “Do you feel the need to prove you’re worth his attention?”
I said “Well, sort of. I’m always like that.”
“Have you ever been in a serious relationship” He asked
“O well, yes. Longest was 13 days.” I answered. He laughed.
“Have you ever loved a man? Or anyone?” He managed to ask.
“ Errrr..yes. Two. My dad and one other boy.” I said.
“Did your dad love you? What about the other guy?” He asked.
“No” I whispered. This was getting painful.
He looked at me and said “These guys; did you feel the need to make them love you? Did you feel like you had to fight for it?”
I bowed my head and said “My dad asked me to come first in class to get a new TV set. I was in primary four and he had never gone through my report card. If he had, he would have known that was the easiest thing to ask of me. He made me work for everything. I worked for his love; I never got it. So, I spend my days running from my dad in other forms.”
He sighed and said “Esther, I’ll be honest with you; you are attracted to boys like your father. Boys who make you fight for a fragment of their attention. They make you do the calling till you feel like a bug. They make you feel it’s your fault when things go bad. They make you yearn for them. They tell you they like you then disappear and expect you to find them. That’s damaged Esther. You deserve better and that’s not me trying to be cliché. You deserve better. And this ‘sorta kinda’ guy in your life is nowhere close to better. Besides, who told you you are not wired for relationships? That’s such a lie! You are an amazing young lady…wife material gan!!”
I wiped the tears away from eyes; I smiled and said “I know right? You got me!”