Fiction:His love has a hold on me!

His love has a hold on me. I am talking about the first man who unfolded the embedded and un-muddled love in me when he treasured me.

His love has a hold on me. I am talking about the first man who unfolded the embedded and un-muddled love in me when he treasured me.

Way back, growing up took so long to happen and we were denied certain things because they called us infantile.

However, the long awaited growth came with a lot of surprises and battles that we all fight in life. I had to be set alone to go to school by my self, make a queue for paying my school fees, being responsible for all my deeds and many other things.

Unlike my sisters, love meant nothing to me because of a thought indirectly instilled in me that all men were cheats and monsters, following a story that my aunt told me on one of the visits in our home village.

“You are a result of rape,” she barked as an indication that I should hate my father, and pay no tribute to him (he is deceased), “because he raped your mother in order to have her for a wife.”

Anger filled my heart and the hate for men grew every time a thought of him impinged my mind. It was the hardest time in my life because I couldn’t imagine being a product of sexual assault.

All these feelings took some time and nothing changed about me apart form the increased bitterness towards men.

“There is always hope for the wounded and crushed spirits,” a voice whispered from the door entrance of the room as the flowing tears of regrets and fear wetted my pillow.

“Who is that?” I barked as I tried to dry the tears because even if the need of talking to someone rose, there was no way I would start up such a story. I saw a fairly tall, dark skinned and handsome gentleman walking into the room with a handkerchief.

The closer he got the more scared my poor soul became. Neither my bones nor muscles could stand it. I felt like history was going to repeat itself, and I started flipping through the pages of the story as my aunt had told it to me, so that he could have pity on me. 

“I love you,” he said while putting forth his hand to give me the tissue, to wipe off the tears that had covered my face.
You can imagine that that was all I needed, but how could I trust him.

Though he was my neighbour, I barely knew him or his intentions. Any way, I ran to his arms and he held me, until I slept.

When I woke up, I admired the dream and wished it could happen again, because it was like one of the soap operas that we watch. It was no hallucination, since we saw each other everyday and I called him my ‘GOD SEND’.

You can say that I fell madly and crazily in love, while I looked forward to seeing him again every other morning. I never got tired of being with him and I enjoyed every word that he said.

He said words of encouragement, lexis that soothed my pain and he knew what to do, why, when and how.

Nothing could give me a thought of letting him go, since he had restored my happiness and he meant the whole world to me.

Every day, love unfolded differently, when we moved out, as we stormed the happening places, whilst he did all actions of love.

One moment that is vividly memorable is when we went to my parent’s home to tell them about us and how we really wanted to get married soon.

It’s the craziest and bravest thing I have done in my life, since I was just A 19 year (1st year campus) old and our parents could never let us talk about relationships or boy friends.

That was the most romantic day in my life because he even kissed me in front of my father. I treasure that moment jealously. “When God made you, he must have been thinking about me” the song I always sung to him.

“Unless, you meet a few wrong ones, it’s hard to appreciate the right one”, the English say.

Unfortunately, this love ended because another handsome, God fearing, wealthy tribes-mate appeared in the picture. Little by little, my love for the former drifted away and the latter gladly received it.

He was appreciated by everyone at home and anyway, I was tired of the former boyfriend.

We moved out for a few months with the new companion and he proved the beastly character in him. With pride, he gave me money and later told me to pay for it somehow.

I found out that he had more than five girls as fiancées and he never took the effort to call and know how each was fairing. So it had to be my duty to call and say ‘hello’.

It was so unbearable and the only solution was to run back to the arms of the one who we truly loved each other. I asked for forgiveness in a lot of shame and these are the words he said when he held me so tight: “We make them cry, those who care for us.

We cry for those who never care for us. And we care for those who will never cry for us. And it dawned on me that it is the truth of life, it’s strange but true.

The earlier this truth is unveiled, change is never too late”.
The words sunk to my soul and each of them gave a tight blow to the spirit, but since then I have never left his side and neither has he.

We immensely love each other and I hope it will be the only love story to tell to our children when God gives us a chance to have them.

His love has a hold on me because he couldn’t let me go even when I seemed to belong to another; he waited patiently, didn’t let darkness steal my heart away and pulled me back with his charm.