Finding love in unusual places
When I was three, I fell in love with a chicken. To be fair, it was more curios infatuation turned to unholy lust. I did not lust for Lucy's flesh, for that is what I called her, but for her attention. I will spend hours throwing down corn closer and closer to me, teasingly drawing her towards me. Lucy was my first "chick" and I had already learnt the greatest lesson of manhood as a child; if you have the "dough" the "chicks" will come.
Then my mother did the cruelest of things and taught me my second lesson. She murdered Lucy when I was out with my sister. When we returned, I was served with the tastiest jollof rice and chicken I had ever had. Later that day, when I asked for Lucy, my mother told me to look in my stomach. I cried so loud and so long, I must have grown an extra lung. Lesson number 2 was, don't love anything or anyone that fits into your mouth.
when i was six, i fell in love with a girl. to be fair, it was more a fascination with how different she was from me. We used to walk home from school together. When i got teased that she was my girlfriend, i cried. Even then, i might have guessed what cruelty that word drags along with it. When she had to leave my school in grade 3, i cried even more. i learnt my third lesson then; you never know what you have until you lose her.
as i grew up, i realized that I could fall in love with inanimate objects as well. through out high school, i was in love with books. Not just any book, but novels. I must have read over a thousand novels by my final year in high school. my relationship with my novels was tumultuous. We had our moments but we always managed to work things out. They became my escape from reality. They offered me a world of words that took you places you could only dream of. Through imagination, they carried my senses along the journey. I tasted, smelled, heard and felt things that i could neither have imagined or ever saw in the reclusive world i was building for myself. This was everything i have ever wanted and more, but it was all a dream, a phantom of reality. Then reality held me firmly by the shoulders and shook me till i awake. Reality thought me my fourth and most painful lesson; the people you love are not immune to death, and unlike the world of fiction, happy endings rarely present.
haven't learnt all this, it still came as a surprise when i fell in love with a person. Even after realising the fragility and frailty of animate objects, i fell in love with a person. She was, like before, my exact opposite. She was short, beautiful, had long hair, curiosity in her eyes and boldness in her hands. She even smelled good. for a long time, it was like pages from one of my novels. i began to think that there was a happy ending at the end of this story after all. My final lesson, which she taught me, breaks my heart and yet is what it is; love is not enough.
i have found love in many places, and been hurt in all. i could chose to stop looking for love, or wait for love to find me. i could hide from love to avoid the hurt and possibly the shame. the one thing i am sure of is i am capable of love.
Then my mother did the cruelest of things and taught me my second lesson. She murdered Lucy when I was out with my sister. When we returned, I was served with the tastiest jollof rice and chicken I had ever had. Later that day, when I asked for Lucy, my mother told me to look in my stomach. I cried so loud and so long, I must have grown an extra lung. Lesson number 2 was, don't love anything or anyone that fits into your mouth.
when i was six, i fell in love with a girl. to be fair, it was more a fascination with how different she was from me. We used to walk home from school together. When i got teased that she was my girlfriend, i cried. Even then, i might have guessed what cruelty that word drags along with it. When she had to leave my school in grade 3, i cried even more. i learnt my third lesson then; you never know what you have until you lose her.
as i grew up, i realized that I could fall in love with inanimate objects as well. through out high school, i was in love with books. Not just any book, but novels. I must have read over a thousand novels by my final year in high school. my relationship with my novels was tumultuous. We had our moments but we always managed to work things out. They became my escape from reality. They offered me a world of words that took you places you could only dream of. Through imagination, they carried my senses along the journey. I tasted, smelled, heard and felt things that i could neither have imagined or ever saw in the reclusive world i was building for myself. This was everything i have ever wanted and more, but it was all a dream, a phantom of reality. Then reality held me firmly by the shoulders and shook me till i awake. Reality thought me my fourth and most painful lesson; the people you love are not immune to death, and unlike the world of fiction, happy endings rarely present.
haven't learnt all this, it still came as a surprise when i fell in love with a person. Even after realising the fragility and frailty of animate objects, i fell in love with a person. She was, like before, my exact opposite. She was short, beautiful, had long hair, curiosity in her eyes and boldness in her hands. She even smelled good. for a long time, it was like pages from one of my novels. i began to think that there was a happy ending at the end of this story after all. My final lesson, which she taught me, breaks my heart and yet is what it is; love is not enough.
i have found love in many places, and been hurt in all. i could chose to stop looking for love, or wait for love to find me. i could hide from love to avoid the hurt and possibly the shame. the one thing i am sure of is i am capable of love.
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