But the day finally came.
That day, when this heart would finally open up – internally, at least. But open up nonetheless. The hiatus had lasted about four years with bouts of premature affections, almost leading to a relational comatose. But this was a breath of freshness, like the smell of a rainy Saturday morning.
The day came when I thought I’d give it a chance, that maybe, I could still experience something so deeply wonderful – to be completely fascinated and desirous of a feminine soul as you.
That day, I sat down quietly, like a young man in a prospective in-law’s house, hoping that my excitement wouldn’t get the better part of me. I never use to worry about saying the wrong thing. I mean, a whole me, the ImisiOluwa fún ra è. But that evening, I was legit scared I was going to mess it all up. “Hard guy in the mud!”.
It was supposed to be a simple and casual evening visit to that one-room apartment in one of the lowly hills of that ancient city. The menu must have been a plate of vegetables-garnished noodles with some fresh bananas, that I ate with caution, not willing to let its scintillating taste steal the experience. I smiled sheepishly as the hospitality and conversation went on.
Is this how people fall in love? I thought. Gosh, a máa ni problem. It’s been years I felt this way. And I’ve tried. I’ve met people, tried to open up, even convinced me to feel this way. But it just never was. And I tried.
It wasn’t the certainty of a lifetime, not that I could put my hands on my chest and swear I was ready for the altar but somewhere in my heart, I knew this was an important moment in my life. I knew this was where I ought to be, and with you.
And then came the singing, as my friend strummed your guitar, asking me to sing one of my favorite songs and tell the story behind it. It was a hint of fulfillment, a reminder of the victories of yesteryears, a foretaste of the beauty to come – a future I had now placed you in. As I sang the words, my mind imagined what our life could be, and it was amazing.
24th February 2019, a day to remember. Not the date particularly, because I didn’t even notice if it was July or November, and may never have if you hadn’t mentioned it. But the day, the evening, the place, the people, the experience -the day the dying embers of this heart lit up in fiery flames – that, I couldn’t forget.
As you walked us to the bus top, amidst stealing gazes at you, your face, your frame, I uttered prayers silently
“Lord, first, I’m grateful. Thank you for ordering the steps of this irreverent boy. I would never have been here by myself. Thank you for helping me feel this way again. Now, I pray, not like I’m putting words in your mouth or kini kan, but I’d really like that this is it. Well, I know you didn’t bring me here to torment me. And I trust, no, I’m begging that you’ll work with me and guide me through this. But meeeeeeen, Baba, omo daadaa lomo yii men.”
“Thank you so much for an amazing evening. I’m really glad I came”, I said with pseudo indifference and partial hugs. It was indeed an amazing day. It was that day – that day that’s never to be forgotten in a hurry.
I’m the ImisiOluwa; thank you for that day.
Love you Plenty.