Tell love that I am looking for them.
When you meet love, before they consume you, kindly send them my way…I’ll be the girl in black braids waiting with a five liter jerican of kerosene and fingers ablaze.
Mark had me when he bumped into me in that grocery store. I wonder, was it easy like this for anyone? To live for the one your heart calls out to. To wait for their call, to look for them in a crowded bus stop, to see their faces in song, to hear their voice on the radio and to yearn for time to stand still so you can cherish a few more seconds with them.
I wore a short black dress. Mark does not care much for black dresses, but his love for burgundy is evident by the number of dresses in that color that are hanging in my closet.
His driver arrived fifteen minutes early and waited for me to get ready before we took off for the restaurant.
Mark was waiting at the lounge for me such that when the driver opened the door, I saw him coming down the stairs, his eyes fixed on me, taking up every inch of me the way they traveled from my heels to my eyes. He smiled and stretched out his hand and I took it.
It was his for the giving and mine for more the support than the taking.
How did we end up here? One the prey, the other…the one who hunted the hunter?
“Thank you for coming Christine. You are beautiful.”
“You mean, I look beautiful? Wow, thanks.”
“No, you are beautiful. Looks are fleeting, but you my dear, are beautiful through and through and I am honored that you chose to have dinner with me.”
“You did not give me a choice.”
“You always have a choice. You made yours and I know I made it seem like you had no choice, but that’s what pressure does to people, doesn’t it? Anyway, thank you for being here. I look forward to dining with you.”
“You are nervous.”
“You repeat what I say or say odd things when you are nervous. Right now, your right eye brow is raised and you are about to slap my arm…see, there, so you are nervous. Don’t be, in fact, we do not have to talk about anything that you are not willing to explore, promise me that you’ll just relax and enjoy your time with me.”
“That sounds fair.”
“It does and you my dear are breathtaking!”
“Eish, stop with the compliments you’ll take all my bonga points!”
“You can never have enough bonga points.”
As we sat down to dinner, it dawned on me that he’d pulled the Mark charm on me again and I had fallen for it.
Love is bliss. It torments the one whom it engulfs leaving the other swirling in a sea of ignorance. How could he sit through a meal, compliment me, feast his eyes on me and yet not want to lose his breath over the sole reason for the ultimatum he gave me? If I asked that he let me be, would he do it?
These thoughts pitched tents in my mind throughout dinner. As he asked for dessert, this little stream of awareness struck me, Mark had not carried his phone. He’d gone for an hour without any calls, texts, reminders or simply reaching out for his phone.
Was this the kind of love I envisioned? If you come across love, tell your love that my love is looking for it.