HOPE Y’ALL LIKE..
“The worst part of holding the memories is not just the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared”
I decided to write this part of my life because I could not hold it in any longer, everything about you has been ingrained in my heart and remain unchanged. I feel my love for you would not fade.
It has been 6 long years and I’ve dated other people, but I have spent all that time loving you. Time has mutated our environ, distance has built its breach, that’s hard to cover but I still have memories of you, memories of us.
I remember the first time we kissed, in my mother’s kitchen, we were cooking together, I tried to reach for a plate and you put your arms tightly round my waist and pulled me close, an awkward silence, staring into each others eyes, you planted a kiss on my lips, my first kiss and it felt dreamy, turning round with a sudden redness covering my face, knowing I’m as shy as a mouse your grip loosened. But I felt safe in your embrace, I was in love with you.
As we ate, sitting directly across the table we stole intent stares at each other, in an anxious state and an awareness that I was viewed, sent shivers crippling down my spine, I looked up, “what are you starring at?” shifting his gaze from me to the food, he said indistinctly and quietly, “nothing”.
Then he reminded me of how our friendship brought forth and blossomed into this emotion of strong affection and a personal attachment so glaring we couldn’t deny, this virtue represented everything kind, patient, compassionate, it wasn’t boastful or vainglorious, never envious nor boils over with jealousy, it wasn’t unmannerly or acted unbecomingly, it wasn’t self seeking, touchy or fretful.
After we had lunch, we took care of the dishes or rather he usually washes them whenever we ate together, while I kept him company, he always said I talked to much but he enjoyed it, we cackled about school as our laughter drifted through the air, echoing round the room.
Denying that it doesn’t hurt would be an outright lie. It’s been 6 years now and the feelings are still as strong and fresh as ever. How does one wrong decision still hurt this much even after these long years?
Our relationship was of a different kind. Other couples hadfights; we didn’t. Or maybe we did and it was so subtle that we never really realized we had just had a fight. It never got to the extent that there was an intense exchange of words. Once either of us realized or was told that they had stepped out of line, a sincere apology was issued pronto. Hurts in the relationship were dressed before they festered. It was a journey we both took together. I wasn’t perfect, and neither was she. But despite our imperfections, we walked hand in hand, seeking that perfection together.
I believe it was on the 4th of May. I had arrived at her house as planned, and she was at the gate to welcome me in. typical of her, first thing out of her mouth was a question, asking when I had to leave. I explained that I had work to do at home, so Mama had requested that I return home by 16:00. She tried to hide her disappointment but I saw through it instantly. Her brothers weren’t around to bug us and that was a huge relief, since I had plans for that day.
We talked for hours. Actually she did most of the talking. It’s fun for me to listen, for her it’s vice versa. We both laughed at our high school days, she laughing really hard when Iconfessed that detested her clique during that time. Noon arrived quickly and we had to prepare lunch, so we headed for the kitchen.
I was amazed at how good an actor I had become. I wasn’t giving her my full attention today and surprisingly enough, she hadn’t noticed that.
I helped in preparing the food and soon enough we were done and had to wait. I was resting on the counter with her leaning on me. The silence was soothing. Words weren’t needed at that moment. I finally got to understand what it meant to“enjoy the moment”.
I must have dozed off because suddenly she was by the cooker, stirring the meal and as I watched her, all I wanted to do was hold her tight and kiss her. I suddenly didn’t care if I was crossing the line with her, or if it was going to upset her. It just had to be done. It was all that had been on my mind since I had arrived.
She walked towards me and reached for the plates behind me, and I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. The silence in the room didn’t help neither was the look she gave me. The expression on her face wasn’t as encouraging as I thought it would be (stupid Hollywood!!!) but I didn’t care anymore. I stared at her, all the while slowly lowering my face towards hers. My lips met hers and there wasn’t any form of resistance. The word that comes to mind as I try to explain the feeling that I felt at that moment, is bliss.
I withdrew and she stared at me for a while and turned around, like nothing had happened. Reality set in and I flew into panic mode.
“ I had messed up. I had crossed the line I wasn’t supposed to cross” I thought.
We had lunch and she was silent throughout, and that wasn’t helping one bit. I stared at her continuously to see if I couldcatch glimpse of a facial expression, any expression to give away what was going on in her mind. She must have noticed me staring and looked, catching me in the act.
“What are you looking at?” she asked
“Nothing.” I lied.
The silence was too intense and I tried to dissipate it by reminding her of how we started out; first as classmates and then friends and slowly but surely developing a thing for one another. She responded eagerly and soon normalcy returned to the room as we chatted away.
We were done with lunch and had cleared the dishes. I washed the dishes as while she talked. She loved to talk, I didn’t. Hearing her speak was really soothing plus I get to understand who she really is as she is uncharacteristically stubborn for a female.
I checked the time and I was already 10 minutes late.
I rushed out and she followed suit. Trying to convince her that it was unnecessary to accompany me to the bus stop was like speaking to a wall. She’d have none of it.
She never liked to hold hands, but today she didn’t pull her hand out, she held on tightly. I took that as a positive sign. The silence returned as we walked but I didn’t mind.
“are you okay?”
I stopped, and she turned to look at me wondering what had happened. I kissed her again; this one, quicker and shorter than the first one.
I boarded a bus and waved her goodbye. It suddenly dawned on me that I had kissed her twice without her permission; she hadn’t said anything about it. I suddenly panicked. She really must be mad at me right now…