I don’t know if I should cry or laugh. I don’t know if like the deeper life sisters I should tie a scarf to cover my shame. Has it eaten so deep into my scalp? I cannot believe here I am thinking of the emotion I should be emoting when there is some girl in her hostel seriously provoking. I don’t understand the kind of me I am becoming but would you blame me? I just don’t want my dear mother’s eyes pouring tears like the angered clouds of Benin. Sometimes when I think about the way it ended, I ask myself if it really ever started. Are you confused? Please don’t be. I just broke up with my girlfriend because of a ‘TRIVIAL’ issue. She calls it trivial because she does not understand. She would never understand. She is surprised why we should be apart because of something trivial but still even with her not understanding I still love Lidia.
The trivial matter is that I don’t visit her in her hostel. Why? Even if I tell you, you won’t understand. You would find it stupid but trust me, truly, sincerely, I just can’t. Wait a minute before you sue me, let me explain the reason my supposed folly.
That hot Saturday afternoon when I met Lidia she had the brightest ebony skin I have ever seen. She still has though. Funny how my pickup line was “how can I get your cream, you have such a wonderful skin”. Her face lit up with a disarming smile making the well carved cheek bones to rise to a picture perfect Da vinci painting. Captivating. Spell-bounding. Her smile could get the truth out of a professional liar. She flushed when I told her how much her skin lights the world at night. Lies that boys tell, girls love to believe. We walked back to the back of Ekosodin gate, talking about books, fashion, school, everything. We flowed perfectly like the rivers that kiss at Lokoja. She was a “metabolite” who got me hooked with her smile, her intelligence.
Two months went by and we spent every minute together wisely. I was a fool for her smile but she always knew how to empty her troubles at my feet making want to tap into her even more.
The day my lips felt the honey comb that she uses to smile at me, I thought nothing was more beautiful. But what is beautiful can be beautifully ugly with the worst possible features. She held me spell bound that night I wanted to dwell forever there and forget about the future.
Behind the 1000 lecture theatre at the faculty of education, we sat opposite each other discussing on the last Nora Roberts book she had read. She was smiling as she described how the alpha male character was a domineering Greek god of beauty who possessed the beauty of the community with his smile. She loved Greek mythology. She would always talk about her admiration for Zeus and Odysseus. She made me think gods like Amadioha were no good. They were not powerful enough.
The atmosphere was getting mushy as she talked about the kissing scene in the book. She always did a great job of painting these romance scenes with the best words. She loved romance. I was not a big fan of those. That is where we usually had issues. Issues that made her tell me how much of a hard man I was. How much my wife would suffer from my “unromanticness”. As her lips moved from side to side, with all those kissing mannerism played so perfectly with her tongue half-stuck, I wondered how she would really taste. Her eyes looked suspiciously at me, planting evil thoughts in my head. The thoughts soon began to grow roots, stems and flowers. My member became hard. I had never felt anything like that towards her before. I was scared.
My mind went off the wires when she stopped talking and stared. Lips lustfully wet. She was calling me in. her pink lipstick glimmer from the moonlight. My air choked in my windpipe. What should I do?
She looked down. She saw the bulge. Her giggle was the green light. My lips to hers, she tasted like honey, felt like heaven. My member increased, my pulse gained speed, beating faster with each passing second. My tongue stayed with hers. French kiss. My hand held her newly made Peruvian weave, her weave-on oils’ perfume was alloevera. Her skin felt smoother than I imagined. It drove me mad. Ecstatic. My tongue was there forever. The moon found joy sitting just above us, reflecting our bliss. The kiss. It felt dangerously beautiful.
That was a beauty’s fool. We remained silent after our lips parted. Stared into each others eyes, saying so many words with just our eyes. The blue-in-black eyeballs were screaming. We were truly in love. I guess so. I LOVE YOU formed in my heart, it took form as it passed through my vocal cords, formed the words with my lips. I LOVE YOU. The I LOVE YOU came out like the romance scene of a Hollywood flick. Was I real? Yes.
I love you too
The “I love you” was not for her heart, I could not do that. I could not possibly love her heart. I love you was for her lips. I love your lips I wanted to say. She misunderstood it. We both misunderstood it.