Yoruba-D

You are my friend.

First, I am not trying to get back to you, it’s not worth it. We both know that.

My apologies…

I don’t know the number of times I cried because of you. I’m sorry I wasted my tears on you.

We got intimate. You initiated it. I went along. Yet, you asked me what I wanted from you. To just be your pleasure tool? Why would you go in that direction with a lady and still ask if she wants to date you? I’m sorry I allowed you.

You really love grudges. They give you a hold on people like me who would get peace and resolve conflicts at whatever cost. Call me to get you food… sounds nice for someone you have a definition for. You have no definition for me. I’m sorry I wasted my apologies on you.

I am sorry I let my esteem get pedalled down by your ego.

My advise…

Of course, you think I am rude again for attempting to tell you what to do and what not to do. At this point, I don’t care. You already read to this point.

You don’t have to remind people of who you are. Why would you always remind me of your age? I am Yoruba and a Christian. I was birthed into respect and brought up to respect those deserving respect and those who show themselves worthy of it.

Forgiveness is forgiveness. No need for ‘terms’ of forgiveness. One who has committed the offence knows and would most likely want to do something to show remorse. I would have done somethings to let you know I was sorry. But you already conditioned your forgiveness.

You are handsome. Caring. Thoughtful. Intelligent. Fun to be with. Romantic. Inspiring.

You are egotistic. Stubborn. Bossy. Disrespectful. Too secretive. Insecure. You said you are demanding… I think it’s more of you always wanting to be right.

Kindly take all these as respectful and needful.

Going back to you would be like those women who still go back to a battering husband instead of seeking refuge elsewhere.

But, I forgive you.

I’ll still get to you in a month, unless you tell me otherwise.

#peo

WERE YOU?

My role at the students’ holiday camp was to be the timekeeper. My voice woke people to start the day’s activities. Yes, my voice woke her up and i could feel her sleepy-eyed smile through the wall of her room. My voice heralded the end of Bible study sessions and almost chased the lessons from her mind. I knew she waited for it, my voice accompanied with the sound of the bell.

That night before departure, as i danced and sang along with the others, i could feel her eyes on me. I could hear her smile, “Akin, aren’t you just troublesome?” I was eager to keep in touch with her beyond the present and I thought she would gladly give me her phone number. Alas, she refused, asking us to leave our fate to fate. I had no faith in that.

I was hurt. I refused to glance her way the next day. We parted without saying goodbye.

Years down the line, she gained admission into the higher institution where i was already studying. We had got talking sometime along the way and having her in the same location was just superb. I took her around, helped with her registration and made her as comfortable as i could. I cared. She was still the same, shy and funny with a thing for me.

She sent me a message on my birthday, “i have two gifts for you”. Right after the little party i had, which she could not attend, i went down to her hall of residence. We walked. Talked. Laughed. Shared thoughts. I could see a sparkle in her eyes.

“Akin, stand still, close your eyes…”.

She kissed me. Bold. Light. Fast. She called it my first gift. I was surprised. It had not crossed my mind that she would ever give me anything more than a big bear hug. I don’t recall the second gift but… the first… an impression.

She was definitely swimming in some deep sea of emotions. I didn’t know if she totally understood those feelings herself. I was worried. My feelings were different… she had become more of a lil sister to me. I told her.

She was hurt. She refused to glance my way for a while. But she returned in the years after she understood.

I am in a relationship now. Years after.

“Akin, were you my first kiss?”

#peo

DIAGNOSIS.

Symptoms;
1. Target of admiration becomes a project topic with everyone, anywhere and anytime. You always have a way of bringing up the target in conversations.
“let’s go get purewater”.
“Hm… (looks at the ceiling)… even he takes purewater… okay, let’s go”.

2. Preening: everytime target walks by, every clothe crease is smoothened, an ankle-length skirt is still pulled down a bit, shirt collars are straightened and belts re-buckled. (lol)

3. Persistent antagonism: even though you like bringing up the target in conversations, your comments are always against the target.
“Do you know he attends my church?”
“Really? That guy is a sworn atheist. Ehm, what time does your service start again?”

4. Dreamy eyes: these eyes are pathognomonic. In fact, they are the major diagnostic tool! BUT, recently, some have learnt to eliminate this symptom as it tends to compromise their state. To do this, extra effort is made to discipline the eyes from looking droopy, watery and stoned. Serious work!

5. Change of course: waittt. I do not mean switching from Medicine to Law just because of the target (which is actually possible). I mean, you tend to adjust your movements and timings to match places and moments that would bring you close to your target. This explains why instead of taking the Nisser park/Jaja route to Idia hall,you would walk past Trenchard hall, past Love Garden, Tantalizers, then Bello hall, then Kuti hall before falling back to Jaja road. Why? You were told that target was making photocopies around SUB. why???).

6. Lastly. Check your notes, jotters, textbooks… even currency notes, there is a recurring name, letter(s), symbol, etc… indicators of who the target is. “Let he who has eyes, decipher…”

Risks
1. Exposure: if this becomes public knowledge, especially if the target finds out… this is the greatest risk.

2. Stumbling. Bumping. Slipping. Falling. Why?

3. Reduced concentration

4. Confused speech especially when in the target’s space. These are the moments when english fails you and even your mother-tongue is of little help.

#Warning: if you start drooling, urinating on yourself, insulting your lecturers/HOD’s, etc, you have a neurological problem (until proven otherwise). These symptoms are beyond the our diagnosis.

Sequelae
1. Target has similar symptoms. Good news, eh?

2. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Shrinking… that feeling of wishing the ground will open and swallow you. Why? Target decides to spread the news of one who dreams like Joseph with no hope of ending up like Joseph. Wicked world, eh?

#peo