Scared to love, again.
You didn't get butterflies, it wasn't love at first sight. You didn't even know his face at some point. So, when you woke up with his name on your lips and his love as dry as clay forgotten on your heart, you had the right to be scared.
Two days ago he was still your friend, one of those friends you didn't mind sitting cross-legged and resting your back on because he was just a friend, he was more like a sibling you had promised to tell his wife about how he would stay hours in the toilet and how his fart was the most disgusting thing in the world.
Two days ago, he was just a fine young man. He knew the scriptures and knew friendship, so you say. His eyebrows are lines you have traced with your fingers many times just because, it didn’t matter. You had asked him to get you some sanitary pads one summer your period came two days ahead of time. You could have asked him to lace the underwear with it if your other friends had not corrected your forwardness.
You agreed but never understood why.
All the while he was there, but never had the sun shone on him the way it did two days ago. You saw Sola, your friend in a way you had never seen him before. It is the sun, Sola is a handsome man. You said and discarded the lightning and thunder your heart was striking. The way you do it every time.
Everyone said you have a thing for him, you shrugged that it was just a flair, a childhood flair that doesn’t leave even though you have thousands of admirers. But your heart smiled at you, knowing this was the big bang that would create your sun.
You try the love-dismissal methods, tell him everything about yourself, good, bad, scary, dark, and the few sweet ones. Still, he was the one, the one you conveniently told stories of how Lafe, the crazy asshole broke your heart with his beastly attitude. He had listened without giving any advice, even when you mentioned the part where you had refused to end the relationship because of the money and luxurious bags he sent you the first time he knitted a fine slap on your face. He was drunk and you had overreacted, you defended him.
But it is Sola, and you needn’t be scared. Love is a good thing and you should embrace it. You had told God to keep you from the snares of the fowlers, one of those snares is love, you had innocently told him. God was your Pappy, who cared what others thought about that prayer. Nonetheless, He was your Pappy, so you knew that it wasn’t worth stressing Him. You got a Shepherd and a Pappy in one. Wolves in love attire would find their death by His rod.
But, you’re scared again. Scared to love. Not because the feeling is as hard as breaking uncooked eggs. Uncooked eggs are a thing for you, you hate having to break them. You’re not scared of love because it’s as hard as breaking uncooked eggs but because now and then when you intentionally remember Sola or when you don’t, your heart skips one beat.
You're scared to face this new realization that your heart is beating as you write this because you can't fathom why or how or when it began, but you love him. This exactly is the point where you discover the secrets you were never told, that those butterflies are not butterflies, but tiny little animals that fill your guts with anxiety and some form of unfriendly fears.
Sola is no longer Sola, but the object in this sentence, 'I love you'. Sola is the man or guy or boy or brother you want to show everything but don't want to show everything. Sola is the one you think about when the preacher preaches about lust, you wonder if this is lust or love or some form of liking you have for a special person just because they are special.
When you scroll your feed and come across a ring, you wonder if Sola would eventually put a ring on your finger. You fret because Sola might buy you a ring as a friend, just a friend. Or as his sun if the big bang happens for him too.
You wonder if Sola would celebrate his 50th wedding anniversary and 65th year serving the Lord while you’re his wife. There’s the scar on your left thigh, it was the first boil you got on your body, the second on your armpit, and the last on your face, you wonder if you’d ever get to show Sola, not as a doctor, or what has a doctor got to do with some scars? but as Sola, your love.
Two days ago, Sola took his oath as a doctor, he had invited you alongside your other friends. He had reserved a seat for you and your friends in like manner and had asked everyone to appreciate you and your other friends together. It was at that moment when he stood among his colleagues that you saw clearly what you had failed to see, that Sola is a man.
Everyone was right. You were right, halfway.
He smiled back and took some time to appreciate your coming, the flowers, the cake you made, and the gifts you shared on his behalf. You wondered why you had shared those gifts. And, like a little dog in the rain, you smiled innocently at the camera, his hands firmly owning your waist, his chin and some beards caressed your forehead. Your heart was beating hard as you recited the 23rd Psalm, it was the first time you felt love, and you had to say a prayer.
He moved his hand a bit, holding you like a pretty doll to his rigid waist, they were innocent, but it was no longer innocent. This doesn’t matter, you muttered. He smiled, thinking you meant congratulations, and squeezed you warmly in an embrace, taking his time to say the magic word. Thank you, Ajoke. I really can’t say how much I love you. Then, he continued, your husband would be so favoured.
You dismissed it with a smile, scared again. What if your love was wasted, yet again? You asked.
This fear began two days ago. You're scared, scared to love again. Scared to face it, that you love him not knowing how or when or why.
For two days, you have asked again and again and again, what if he has a love? But you hope he doesn’t. Perhaps he doesn’t, you wonder if it would please your Pappy to make you his love.
Ajoke, you must love Sola so much. If not, why do you fear his rejection this early, why are you scared to embrace love again? Do you not know that you have not received a Spirit of fear, but of love, power, and a sound mind, Sola inclusive?
Falling in love by Folabi Nuel ft Timi Dakolo.
Soft music begins to play in the background. Ajoke shifts on the sofa, a wine glass resting firmly in her hand, half filled. She stares out the window, wondering when the birds were going to colour the skies as they drew the curtain of the day. The third day would come to an end, day four would emerge, she would still be in love with Sola, she’d still be an admirer of his features, and would still desire to hear his heartbeat as loud as possible, under stress and over bliss.
…
Ajoke, there is no fear in love; perfect love casts out fear. Perfect Love overpowers fear. You can love Sola, fearlessly, or you can stop desiring him, fearlessly.
As if.
She sniffs, finishes the wine, drops the glass, and closes her eyes to pray.
'Sola... Huh’, she pauses. 'Dear God rather.' Stops. Sighs.
'Pappy, I love your son, Sola!’
Music fades in the background.
His eyes when he looks at me...my insides feel weak from within... When he prays, I hear the chariots of the host of heaven in his breath...and, those innocent, holy, h-hot, lovely eyes of his… Damn love -- the timid one! Ajoke, you love this guy. You’re a fool. Girl, you’re a fool for love! Fully in love.
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Ìfẹ́. ❤️
