That was the message going around. She smiled at her phone and shifted seating
positions yet again. Her back was aching, her eyes were sore, she hadn’t had sleep for forty-something hours straight. She wasn’t disturbed,far from it. V was happy. She was home alone, larking around Lydia’s spacious one-bed-roomed apartment. She had recently thrown on a buggy red jumper; it was a cold night. She also attributed some of the cold to her empty stomach. She was too lazy to cook and had almost cleared Lydia’s fridge. V loved solitude. This was proving to be her best holiday ever, given everyone had gone to the country side and only she was left behind to watch over everything.
That was not the only reason she was happy though. It was a holiday, that meant happy moments. Her boyfriend was also being so sweet. He would call her on her bad phone and he would talk for a while while she listened closely. She would giggle, she would smile, and sometimes she would sniff a tear or two. V was in love. This was the happiest she had ever been. Ali was an angel. Something rare. A miracle she could hardly believe. They had parted for the holidays. She had had to go home. It had been over a week yet it felt like forever to her. She missed her man. He missed her too, and he told her every time. V couldn’t wait for the holidays to be over so that everything would go back to normal and she would see her man again. They had parted on a high note, and every day and every night he reminded her how much he wanted to see her again.
That specific night she was elated by the cheer i n the air and the noise from the neighbours’ kids. She had no intention of joining them in calling out and heckling, ushering in the new year. This year she was going to do it the best way she knew how. She would watch some praise and worship sessions on TV then she would tell everyone she cared about a happy new year then she would stay awake some more and listen to her man. He had a sweet voice,the kind she would listen to for hours on end. She knew for a fact she wasn’t feeling that way because she was blinded by love. Ali’s was a beautiful; voice. Masculine, deep, tender and when he spoke to her, it sounded like bubbles. V had no idea what bubbles sounded like. She was certain, however, that Ali’s voice sounded like bubbles.

Before the Holidays, V’s and Ali’s relationship had gotten a little serious. They had fought a couple of times. Sometimes V was irrational, sometimes Ali was adamant, but when it was good it was great. The longest they had fought had been a week and they had missed each other terribly and had gotten back together. Good thing about these two was that they talked. Whenever they felt like there was a problem, they brought it up. Of course V did most of the pointing out. Ali was not keen on complaining. But when she pointed something out to him, he listened.They were closer friends than they had ever been. She saw a future with him, sometimes a dim future, but she knew she could count on his love.
V got bored sometimes, when she was not talking to him. She had watched everything she could watch in the house. and with everyone gone, she knew she had to keep herself busy at times to avoid boredom. she sewed pillows for herself, she made herself an incomplete doll, she drew things, she wrote things, and she slept when she could.
That night she spoke to her friends, drunk and sobber alike. She had a feeling that it was going to be a good year.
The go-getter had found love alright. And it was the best thing that could have happened to her at that time. She and Ali had been together for a straight five months now and yet it always felt new. She was insane over him. She loved him. She knew he loved her. She had found love, or had love found her. She sometimes wondered why she hadn’t met him sooner. Then she would answer herself. She knew she was a different woman than she’d been previously. She appreciated love more than she ever had. She was maturer than she had been before Ara. She felt like Ali had met the most interesting version of her. And she was a more confident lover, something she knew was a stronghold. She felt like he had come at the perfect time, when she needed someone like him. He was her superman. The five months had been bumpy yet the best. They had had fights. They had resolved them. She had thought of leaving but she felt like he was a part of her, a part she needed.
Do not make mistakes, V was the smartest she had ever been. She was smart enough to lock her head out of the relationship. She only used it once in a while. She kept it as backup. V knew that if it ever happened that they couldn’t be, she would walk. Hard as it would be, she knew she had that kind of energy.
She recalled Valentine’s, they’d fought. It was her first ever. Not that she was one, no, it was the first year she had had an actual boyfriend on Valentine’s. Most of her relationships would end at around that time. Martin had broken up with her on the 7th of February, a week to the cursed or blessed Valentine’s. Joel had dumped her via text on the same date the following year. She had had no steady boyfriend after that.
She panicked. She started to fault-find. In her defense, she was anticipating a break up. When she woke up to a sweet text from him, she felt overjoyed. She couldn’t keep it to herself and so she confessed it to him. Maybe it was a mistake but she was going to think about it at some other time. If there was one thing V was good at, it was running her mouth and putting her foot in her mouth. For matters she deemed personal that is. She could keep a secret, just not her own, unless it involved someone else.
She invited him over and they had good breakfast. One she had lovingly made for him. That day she did not go for a date like every other girl in town. She did not eat chocolate, she did not get a flower, and she did not ask for any of those. All she wanted was to be with the man she loved. To spend time with him. To lay down beside him, in a warm cuddle. To play games with him maybe. To tell jokes and laugh her ribs sore. To listen to him talk, to watch him listen to her talk. She wanted to touch him, smell him, tickle him, and do just about any absurd thing that crossed her mind. After all it was Valentine’s and she was the girl in the relationship.
He did spend a while or so with her, after which he excused himself and she let him go albeit with a little difficulty. Ok, a lot. There was a condition to that though, that they would spend the evening together. She decided to find him. He wasn’t home. She got tired of waiting and threatened that she would leave. He dismissed her calmly. V felt enraged and she promised herself that she wasn’t going to forgive him. She did, eventually. She loved the guy. And as if that was not enough, he was her best lover yet. She cried over it two weeks later in his arms after he’d made passionate love to her.
V’s and Ali’s relationship was beautiful. They were friends above everything. And they communicated somehow. During fights she would get dramatic and storm out or walk out, depending on the heat of the fight, but she would soon forget about it. She loved it when he apologized. And she endeavoured to stay on his good side. Maybe she was giving too much, but it was worth it; she received so much as well in return. Ali loved her. She believed it when he said it. She saw it when he didn’t. She felt it when he held her. She imagined it when they were not together. She dreamed about it when she was asleep. She wrote about it whenever she could. She talked about it when she was with her friends. She prayed about it whenever she remembered. She sang about it when she was in the mood. She breathed it, she lived it. V had finally found it. And it did not compare to anything she’d had before. And for the first time ever, she was not so scared. She wasn’t scared of losing him. She knew if she did, she would consider it time well spent or well wasted. And it would hurt. But she would move on.
V loved Ali. She couldn’t get enough of him. She couldn’t get tired of saying it. And whenever she held her pen, she wrote relentlessly because that was the only time she could tear her heart open an not give a damn. She loved the smell of his skin, the strong musky masculine smell of a man. She once licked his sweat as it dripped from his chest. In her defense, he was sweating on top of her, while riding her to worlds she had recently discovered. Ali made it his sacred duty to pleasure her and she received it like she was always meant to. She finally understood what it meant better half. And even though sometimes she was blinded by her tiny obsessions, she knew perfectly that they were not there yet there. Close as they may be. She was not his wife. Not yet


Published by: andefwa

I say it as it is. I get into trouble a lot for this reason. but then again, am an artist. And that's just how it is in our world. I have trouble with expressing myself at times. so I find it easier to let it out in third, or fourth person hihi. that in itself is a secret i just said right there. so keep it that way,will you? :-P ;-)

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