I’m waving my mental flag right now! Really excited that we won the AFCON cup despite all that was said about our team, but I digress.
Tonight, I have a post written by someone really special to me, Damilola Longe. She’s a big sweetheart and a writer herself. Please enjoy this piece by her.
“Love wantin tin, na wa o”, Tamilore teased us as she saw us still whispering and laughing by the gate of Queens’ Hall at 11:45pm. We smiled and waved at her as she hurried in while we continued like the gate wasn’t about to be shut in fifteen minutes. We were in our own world where it was just the two of us. We said our good nights and hugged. It was one of those forever-long-I-don’t-wanna-ever-let-you-go hugs. Everything ceased to exist, time stopped, it was just us then all of a sudden, he kissed me. Ok, I didn’t see that coming!!! What to do? What to do?! Then as if of their own volition, my lips kissed him back and then I ran into the hall, my heart thundering in my ears.
I was still in a trance as I walked automatically to my room. Is that what a kiss felt like? It was so electrical and magical and perfect. Then the questions came flooding. Did I just sin? Is kissing bad? Then the guilt came, laid on thick, I tell you. See eh, I promised the Lord that I won’t let any man that wasn’t my husband touch me the way a husband should, I just broke that promise. Why did it have to feel so good?.
An sms alert interrupted my thoughts, ‘
“Baby, I love you, you are everything to me, I bless God for leading me to you. God bless you. P.S. the gate was perfect, you are perfect, g’night”.
“Gate” was our secret code for kissing. It was huh? Maybe it was, I shouldn’t be too hard on myself after all, what was harmful about a little kiss.
I finally settled on what to wear. He liked my pink dress with the black buttons all the way down. I fastened the last button and practically ran all the way to Zik hall. There was always this energy around him, humming in the background, and it always gave me goose pimples and made me turn to mush around him. I hugged him and he hugged me back. I loved hugging him, each hug was special and different. We entered his cubicle and sat on his bed. His Bible was opened and I asked what he was reading. We talked about the word and prayed, he put on a movie. We cuddled together and watched. He started stroking my hair and I instantly forgot the movie’s title or what it was about. I went perfectly still. Why was his breathing funny? I turned around to look at him, and for those few seconds I wondered if he would. He did. He kissed me a second time. This time it was slower and longer. I just didn’t understand the sensations that were storming the bottom of my tummy. A niggling voice at the back of my head told me to stop, the voice was so loud, just then, he undid my buttons and I watched him, we made out till the end of the movie. The voice was still there but so distant now. All of a sudden, I pushed him away and started crying. A new sensation spread through my body.
I don’t remember feeling so ashamed, so guilty, so unclean. He held me as I cried it out and redid my buttons. Then he asked me what the matter was. I told him how I thought it was wrong. It was a sin. I spilled everything to him. He looked into my eyes and told me he loved me and if expressing his love to me would make me this unhappy, he’d back off. We prayed, I left thinking to myself how awesome a boyfriend I had. He understood as a fellow child of God should. You see, he was my first love. We met during a fresher’s outreach program. I fell hard and fast, he understood me, we just were perfect together, I just needed us to be on one page regarding physical issues.
A month later, I was sobbing again at botanical gardens. We were supposed to be praying and an hour later, I knew things about myself that I never knew before. I had never felt such overwhelming shame, so thick it suffocated me. I left him there and ran all the way to Queens’ hall. I knew then that I had to leave him. We were sinning and as much as I loved him, I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t read, sleep, I was paralyzed by the ensuing guilt, I couldn’t even ask for forgiveness.
“Delivered”, my screen told me, I had sent him an sms asking him for a break. I needed to get myself together, he understood. I stared at his ZOO 112 note that I had borrowed earlier in the day, as I was thinking how we needed to spend some time apart, maybe we’d get over this attraction. Maybe…
Was it supposed to be this painful? Why do people make sex seem as if it’s the best thing in the world, it was painful and shameful at least to me, the voice in my head was still there, very faint though but still distinct. After all the breaks we had had, I finally decided that making out wasn’t that bad. Many make out sessions, everything-but-the-main-thing sessions, many guilt trips, break ups and three consecutive years of winning the best couple award later, we were discussing his project work in his boy’s quarters on Amina way, he dropped his laptop, held my hand and told me he loved me, he wanted to marry me and that now that we were leaving school he was bringing his family to meet mine. I kissed him, yes, I KISSED HIM. I had been doing that for a while, initiating the sessions.
We finally did it. It was awful to me, he was excited and promised me heaven and earth. I wondered how we could still call ourselves children of God after we had done all these. My relationship with God has been on a downward spiral since then.
Now he’s serving in Akure and as I pack my bags to go and see him. I look at the ring on my left, fourth finger and count down to the days when it’ll no longer be fornication. Sometimes I wish things went differently, but I guess wishing never helps anything.