So @jerrybanfield, I finally decided to write this in a bid to contribute my quota to your Supernatural Writing Contest.
Miraculous Recovery
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Being 16 years old and a fresh graduate from Senior Secondary School, it was a dream come true. It was a welcome relief from the prison I called boarding house. My school was quite strict with us based on morals and religious affiliations. I could not wait to get out. So when I got out of school, I was an exotic bird that found a new sky space to fly. Excited as I was, I just wanted to go to the outside world and stay out of trouble.
That I managed to do for four weeks exactly until Felix came along and swept me off my feet. Felix was tall, dark and handsome. He had a fancy accent and a way with words. He was also a singer and could poet. Two weeks after we met, we went for a camp out with some friends. That outing was the earthquake that shook the foundation of everything I had ever believed in and everything that I had ever said I was.
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Sitting with him in that park, so damn close that our bodies were grazing, and ripples of continuous current were ranging inside me. I felt cold, hot and warm at the same time. It was as though I would melt away from those piercing eyes that the only time they left my eyes, roamed appreciatory over my body. I was just a regular girl, no more than a child with a basic face and a basic shape. In that moment of unending bliss, I could not stop myself from wondering why he ever spoke to me the first day that he did.
After what seemed like an eternity of silent appreciation, he finally asked me a question. As I made to answer his question, he kissed me. It was eternal. His lips were the softest things I ever tasted. I roamed the streets of space decorated with boxes of love, hoping that the kiss would never end but it did. He ended the kiss so softly; I could almost taste the softness. I found myself titling my head towards him as he drew away. I caught myself but not before he noticed and he smiled.
The night went smoothly and we got familiar. We were engrossed in the company of each other, savoring every moment. Time passed slowly. I couldn’t bring myself to leave because there was nowhere else I would rather be. Minutes passed and gradually the park became empty. We were left alone to our wild imaginations. It was past 12 am and there was no going anywhere. That was the first night I spent outside of the warmth of my bed, in the cold, with a man that I barely knew.
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He held me all through the night, kissing me silly. I forgot who I was and where I was coming from. I didn’t bother to think about where I was going to. Emotions and feelings that were once strange to me began to spring up and it confused me but I was not about to show my naivety. I matched him kiss for kiss like it was a competition. Wasn’t this going too far? I questioned myself. I prepared for a revolt when he started to mutter sweet nothings in my eyes. I fell straight back into paradise and I quickly blended in and let myself enjoy the moment. As I began to come around, he stopped abruptly. I became scared. I thought I had disappointed him or done something wrong. Then he said the most unexpected thing ever. He said “when I kiss you next, I want to kiss my girlfriend”. I wasn’t done receiving all that love that night so I quickly said yes. It was there in that park that night that I said yes to 6 months of bitter sweet obsession.
Thoughts of him filled my head every minute. I could barely do anything meaningful. I always wanted to be with him. I longed for every fibre of him. I wanted to put the world on pause so we could love ourselves all day every day and never get interrupted. My days were miserable without him and my evenings were bliss when I spent them with him. We were out most evenings, taking a stroll around and making out whenever we could find. He was romantic and I was hopeless without him. The first three months of our relationship was heaven. We started talking about having a family together. I felt that he was made for me and me for him.
Soon after our first three months, he began to be controlling. Telling me the people that I should see and the people he didn’t want to see me with, what I should wear, the kind of hair I should make, etc. Well, who cares? I was in love and I would do anything to keep my relationship. I cooked for him every time I had the opportunity to and gave him some financial assistance from the little allowance I received from my dad. He became my priority and I had sleepless nights thinking about him instead of studying for the second sitting of my entrance exam to the University.
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From bliss and love, our relationship down sided to pure disgust and hatred. I began to find out things that he never told me, some others that he lied about... in short; our relationship was built on a thick foundation of lies. I discovered that my Mr. Handsome was double dating, not just that, but he spread lies about me, saying I was the one clinging to him and that he never asked me out.
I was heart-broken, I felt all my dignity watered down, I wanted the ground to open and swallow me up, but I could not find the courage to leave him. I was scared. I was terrified of how my life would be if I left him. We were a perfect couple outside. Always wearing that halo of happiness where ever we went. We spread so much love outside. A lot of people had told me that they envied my relationship. Something I usually smiled over. Even though I couldn’t be with him, I was scared of leaving him. And one day, exactly six months after the butterflies in my tommy couldn’t stop roaming about, on a social media platform; my Mr. Handsome broke up with me.
The healing process was difficult. I would stay up at night crying (He was my first love and I poured my all as a drink offering to him). Wishing we could still be together. My mind became fine-tuned to my opinion that every male was a cheat. I would flinch whenever I came in close contact with someone of the opposite sex. I became distant. I told myself that I would never love again. It was a decision that I made and was ready to stick by.
For two years, I didn’t so much as take a double glance at a male and I felt that it was sealed. But I didn’t want to sink. I wanted to live life as others were so I made a decision to open my heart to life but not love. I began to know myself, read more books, love and appreciate myself. I found myself in those two years. Parts of me that I never knew existed began to blossom and I bloomed into a flower that I never wanted to die. I discovered that people always wanted to be around me and confide in me and because I had opened up my heart to myself, I let them.
On my 20th birthday, a well-wisher sent me a goodwill message on a social media platform. After a very long interesting chat with him, we said our goodnights. Before I slept, I found myself thinking about him pleasantly and smiling. The rest is history.
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In conclusion, I will say that love is indeed a beautiful thing.
thanks for romantic and lovely post . i enjoyed to see it .
Thank you for writing this story @ajoke and submitting it to SWC. We often forget that miraculous recoveries are also for lost love! I just sent a bid to a bot for your upvote.
Love is delicate and jealous. Not to be awoken before it's time. Surprising how people have ridiculed that word over time.
Love is a beautiful thing.
I just hope I get invitation to eat rice soon.
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