Beautiful things happen in the dark; when the sun goes to sleep, when the stars give light kisses, when the moon is a spotlight, when you bury your face in your pillow and cry till you have no tear drop left. And your body so weak it cant do anything else but drift into sleep…
Surely, he doesn’t remember when we used to compete on who should drop the call first, I am sure.
We were both so young and madly in love. We giggled at sweet nothings and whenever either of us stumbled, the other would steady the balance. We had our differences but it was not so bad. We were always forgiving and moving on. Our love – It was beautifully sincere.
I would laugh and flirt with others in his presence. But claim it was merely ‘innocent play’ just so that we’d quarrel and he would call me sule because he knew it’d piss me off. Later, we’d make up with letters sprayed with perfume, conveying sweet scented love.
It wasn’t planned, but we both started burning out our love on the altar of adulting. Yes! It started with being at different Universe-City. Suddenly, No one cared about who dropped the call first. The emails stopped, so did the long hour calls and constant chats.
Soon after, Shade happened! However, his mother called and said – Move on, joor Iyawo mi, forgive him”. Three weeks after, he came over a thousand miles and planned dinner with Nonso’s(my friend) help. Later, during the course of that dinner, he went down on one knee and proposed, sealing his mother’s prophesy of the wifey title. I was over the moon.
Abefe! He sure knows how to coddle a lady!
Then again, Cynthia happened! I knew at that moment that Bimbo, Roseline, Nafisat, Amaka, George and Amos, yes! I knew men would happen too – anything is possible. So, I left. Though, he never left… I didn’t truly let him.
With my next lover, anger became the wrapper under which I shivered. Many times, I confessed my undying love to him and gave him everything. More than I did Abefe, just to convince myself that the pain hurts no more and I’ve really left HIM.
But, I couldn’t stop thinking of the tender moments we shared and each time, I tingled at the thoughts of him. I cried and cried. Then I realized that first loves betrayal is like a scar over a wound that does not heal. My new lover got tired of this and said his goodbyes. He left. And I let go of him within days.
Again, I found another lover and raised the flag of his face all round my social media platforms declaring my allegiance to my newest lover. I promised I’d love him with the entirety of me. But Abefe’s laughter and mockery from thousands of miles away ridiculed that promise. The wind wickedly brought me his message —“I’m forever a part of you, and your heart is mine still – he boasted.” And he was right, my heart was still his.
At that juncture, I discovered that I am a lost valentine. Lost in the memory of what we were. Lost in the memory of his touch and embrace. Lost in him. Ah! I never did get over him.
So, I brought my face closeup on my pillow that night and cried.
Deliberately, I went through how we met and replay the memory of how he split the door of my womanhood in such mind blowing ecstasy. Oh! I remembered it all. I remembered the taste of his lips that gave my palates wild orgasms. I remembered all the promises. I remembered the pain and all the hurts…
Then, Slowly, I remembered ME. I remembered ME beyond being the lost valentine; gradually dying in the valley of stagnancy. I remembered the girl I was and the lady I envisioned. It took me this long but I remembered it all. I finally came back to ME.
Really! Beautiful things happen in the dark; when the sun goes to sleep, when the stars give light kisses, when the moon is a spotlight, when you bury your face in your pillow and cry till you have no tear drop left. And your body so weak it cant do anything else but drift into sleep…
…then, in the morning, you wake as a full blown graduate from the University of Stupidity – no longer lost!
Art: @Lord Kubols (IG).