Some people find it daunting to find ways to reignite the flame[/caption] I once loved a girl. Well, I thought what I was feeling for her was love. I thought of her. I dreamt of her. I went to school early so I could have a chance to talk to her. It must be love, or? I thought she loved me too. She always laughed when we were talking. She loved my jokes—I thought. Then one day I gathered the courage to go to her house and propose love to her. I thought very deeply of how I was going to say it–the way I was going to approach the topic. I even had time to plan my reactions toward her response; if she said yes, I was going to jump up to the sky and scream “Yes! I won.” Then I would tell her how I’m going to make her life better–how I was going to flash her life with good loving. I rehearsed how to react to her ‘yes.’ What I didn’t do was to plan how I’ll react in case of embarrassment. I was so sure I was going to win. I walked to her house reciting my proposals as I walked. About fifty meters away from her house, I saw her approaching. My heart skipped several beats. Immediately, the words on my lips—the love proposal jumbled up. Like a dumb trying to put words together. I couldn’t stand the feeling. I took the next turn and hid behind a wall. When she passed, like a staunch catholic, I did the sign of the cross and uttered; “thank God she didn’t see me.” I was in Junior High School then. Yeah, I began to love very early. I couldn’t tell her. My courage was ephemeral. To avoid the physical interaction that almost scared me to death, I wrote her a love letter. I wrote it at dawn so I could enjoy some silence whiles I listened to my muse and what they have to tell me. I poured my heart out. It was the best letter of my life. I ended the letter by saying; “No one will love you this deep, not even your mother.” I placed the letter in her desk when I got to school. When she came to school, she found it. I saw her slit the envelop I’ve decorated with heart stickers and pencil drawings of love. Then she began to read. I couldn’t sit still. I wish I had some vanishing powers so I could disappear for a while. My heart was virtually leaping into my mouth. It was a terrible situation I was in that morning. After reading the letter, she smiled. Looked at my direction and still smiled. I screamed in my head; Yes! She likes me. Then she left her desk and started walking to my direction. “Do you know what love is?” She asked. “Do you know what love is?” she repeated. This time her voice getting louder. Then she screamed whiles beating me with the envelope; “What do you know about love?” I couldn’t say a word. The whole class laughed at me. My friends mocked me. I became a laughing stock for the week. I didn’t know what love is but I loved. I didn’t know what love is. Maybe if she asked me what love isn’t, I could have at least tried to answer. Growing up, I still grapple with what love truly means. It seems everyone experience love differently. It seems. People have different ideas about love and they will die for their idea of love because they hold that to be self-evident. What if. Again, what if what we believe love to be isn’t love after all? Love isn’t;
- a)Jealousy
- b)Unconditional
- c) Hurting
- d) Sex
- e) Profile Picture
Author: Nesta Jojoe Erskine
E-mail: [email protected] A blogger, speaker and social media enthusiast. Website: http://nestaerskine.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nestajojoeerskine/ Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/1312dreams/ Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/1312dreams/]]>