Why did she bother to ask if I was emotionally bruised? How some girls cannot just mind their business. She kept ringing HOW ARE YOU bells till I could not feel my ears – she just did not know when damage had been done. “And you are?” I asked in annoyance. I wished I had no reason to look up; I could not behold the angelic sight of her face. “Hey what is the matter?” – She asked as though counting her words. Wow! How did I manage not to observe her seductive voice? Her voice was indeed in her sword; my heart was not going home without a pierce. “Do not worry about my issue; you are such a beautiful lady. Your black skin on this ravishing apparel has awoken by appetite”. I said with ease and high hopes. “You go by the books, love is by impression not, but expression sought”, came her response. I did not imagine my move to be on the wrong foot, if it was a chess game, my words should have cleared the principals. I felt she was just acting tough; I felt she was hiding her blush, I took the next move.
“You want to know the issue still? Well the issue is that I have been waiting for a time like this but saw it not”, I looked at her glorious face to see if she knew where I was going. Her silence stoned me on the head; she sat next to me with her two hands holding her knees. I knew I was in trouble as I definitely had to come up with an imagined tale – I actually had no issue, I was only out there to chill. To avoid awkwardness, I was swiftly saying, “my life has been a mess, very complicated and ugly. It has been so uhmm..”, I put my hand on my forehead acting emotional whilst ransacking my cortex for a suitable pitiful end note. She smiled at me in a rather official manner, and for a second I felt she was not buying my bullshit – my heart drowned instantly. She brought out a book, and seemed to be searching for my bio-data (probably not, but judging by the timing, it might as well be anyone’s guess). “What is with the book, is this heaven or something? You’re the angel that flings the guilty into the shitty hot boiling furnace right?? I see.” I could not stop talking. With a wider smile which revealed a pinch of her white shiny teeth, she said, “what are you talking about? This is me trying to take note of what you intend unfolding; my brain is not a system”. “You’re a journalist or what? You’re looking for a story to fill your papers aren’t you? Sorry beauty, you should look some other place”, this I said getting ready to leave the scene – I was hoping she called me back though.
I walked few kilometers now, I cursed her inwardly for her insensitivity. “Such a mean bitch, she thinks because of her beauty, brains, and calmness, she can force every guy to give her stories for a journal. I hate journalists”. I hear from a distance,”sorry about the crumbling in your love life”. She was saying with much effrontery. I was returning to her assuming that was how best she could tell me to come back. “You could have just maybe screamed wait!” I said smiling sheepishly. “You are here to cool your head because you broke up with Awili, and you clearly have given up on love. So you see me, and all you want is to flirt”, she said with no breakage. I was so shocked, and my shock matured into anger. I was now replying, “what was that about? First, an angel, then you bring out a book acting like a journalist. Now what? You’re a prophetess?! Flirting with you? You must think so highly of yourself”. Without apologies, she went a stretch saying “you do not even want to admit. What if I say we are in Heaven?” Seriously? She playing NAME OF PLACE, NAME OF PLACE FUNNY ASS GAME with me?? “Oh Heaven you say? Well this cannot be Heaven because if this were, you should be joining me in Hell for interfering into my private life (pheww!)”, came my reply. She was not smiling no more, that must have gotten to her – my smile was cooking.
She walked up to me till we were just at nose distance. Oh my God! Was this beauty going to shoot out her lips for some world record french kiss? Or was I in for some serious spit bathing yells from this lady? “I am sorry for upsetting you, that was never my intent.” She said with her face displaying a bruised feeling. I was with the opportunity of seeing a lady’s exposition of emotional drama at a TOO CLOSE FOR A KISS distance. “Awww you are even more beautiful when you are sad”. I said under the assumption that it was a compliment but to my greatest surprise, she said “you must enjoy ladies with their red faces, what kind of spoilt kid are you?” Normally, I would have released showers of rail words on her for calling me a kid, but I didn’t and couldn’t because she was only teasing. Her blush was not hidden anymore, I could vouch for a lip amalgam in no distant time. “You are very funny, you only need work on your commitment issue. Love is not your enemy, you do not have the ill fate syndrome”. She said. “Oh you are now a counsellor or love doctor huh? What are you?? Because no human reads minds, and human counsellors are just professionals who do nothing but bill you per second. They attend to you like you had mental issues. My best bet is that you are not real and I will wake up from this bitter sweet dream”. I said relaxedly. She laughed; I could see the whole building inside her mouth, as she was in front of my face. I wonder how that could amuse her; oh! That is why it’s a matter of WHAT ARE YOU in place of WHO ARE YOU. “Well nice to meet you too”. I said with my eye rolling eastward. Her response was with a big smile, she said I could call her Stephanie. With patience, we looked into each other’s eyes searching for the red heart presumably. Her head bent one way, mine bent the other way. My head was swelling, and I just had to force my shy lips to making a move closer to her red lips. Closer, very much close now…and this happens…
BABA WAKE UP JAREY! WHO YOU DEY KISS FOR DREAM? YOU NO WAN WISE ABII? YOUR PHONE DON DEY RING SINCE….
“Perfect (face squeezed). All those lines for nothing? A dream?? Love is such a jonkie, it keeps messing with me”, I said with much hate. I checked my phone, and the missed calls came from one unregistered number. I called back and lo and behold, a mellifluous voice was all my phone speakers welcomed. “Sorry who is this, I am just seeing missed calls all from your number…” I was saying. She replied, “yh it is Stephanie na, is this not Buchi?”. I was not Buchi, so this was clearly a wrong number moment. It was the I AM SORRY FOR DISTURBING YOU moment flying in from her end; but no, I was not willing to drop the call having been struck by her name. “Stephanie? Oh my…my…je l’ai trouvè le bonheur (I have found happiness)…” I was grinning. She was not understanding what I was saying now, “Hello, I am not getting you..”
We talked all day.