Short Story Love – Not that I cared
Photo credit: Carool from morguefile.com
Believers jaws dropped when a self-confessed, self-styled, daughter of God Almighty came to church double the size she usually was. This is due to the fact that we almost mistaken her for someone who looked like her until she opened her mouth and spoke. There was no chutzpah on her, no shame in the way she walked inside the church.
We were all sitting down and listening to the good news coming out of our regional pastor’s mouth. Regional because ours was divided into regions and mini regions and we always became excited whenever we had visitors from other branches. And I believe that we enjoyed it a lot when we were told that some of our brothers and sisters will be with us in due course. She was elegant though and dressed in a very expensive garb that only a few boutiques in our towns or cities could brag about having it in their stores.
It was at night but had her eyes covered with the latest, if not top of the range, eyewear. And I got jealous right there on the spot and thought about batting my eyelids for her but the seriousness of his lover put me off. In a well-behaved, God-fearing environment, what they were doing would have not been permitted because it was akin to a spit on their Maker’s face. A spit because they had known His rules prior to giving their bodies to each other but they had went ahead with their exercises after church and sometimes during prayer services in the parking lot and when we didn’t see them within our service, we ladies and gents knew what’s up.
She got sick the day after she had met her Chutzpah and I was to blame because I had always confessed to my friends for wanting her more than she will ever know. She was in the know about my willingness to be her boyfriend but I lacked class. Yes! She told me deep-throat that I lack class. I didn’t know what class was back then. I still don’t know. The only class I know was at school when I was still wet behind the ears and didn’t know whom I worshipped.
A second year Information Technology student put it out to me how expensive the chick is. I wondered what was it about her that made her special but found no forthright answer within my none-the-less unlearned head. She always promised I that one day she would be mine but kept kissing all the other frogs along the way and I had qualms with that. And pregnancy suit her just fine except when she got emotional so much so that her estranged boyfriends wished that if he had his way, he’d punch the ba##ard on the face and maybe bring his senses back to the way they were before she let him in on her life.
Most people like me, didn’t approve of their love from the onset and the more they hugged and kissed, the more I wished the world could swallow me up but I hadn’t made God so much angry that he’d let it do what I had wished it would. And her mother no longer wanted to be seen in public with her because as a woman of high standards, a woman who had been the builder of most women’s confidence, was feeling that her daughter was the community’s let down. She was beautiful beyond belief and most men couldn’t hold their breaths whenever they saw her walk on the street and when they were with her, it was like they were with an angel. When I plucked courage and asked her to be mine, the only reply she came up with was that;
‘I wouldn’t cut it in the love stakes because I was way beneath her, that I was too loud and if she was to be mine and I hers people would be confused about our mismatch.’
I went to the loo and rinsed my face while looking at the size mirror but found nothing which agreed with what she had just said. I know that I’m sometimes silly but having someone telling me that I’m too loud and beneath, lacks intelligence and relevance. I love her and she knows but doesn’t care about the hurt she’s causing me by telling me that she’s taken. When I look at her man I see nothing because I believe the hurtful words she’s saying to me should be said to her. She knows his history as a womaniser and she doesn’t care — even when he sees him holding hands with other women or getting too close to comfort with them. But when it was I getting too close to the IT-girl she became jealous and never spoke to me the whole night — not that I cared. There’s something about her nature that hurts those like I who will never ever have a chance to hold or kiss her or at worst….
I have a lot of admirers, you know but none of them come close to making me a real man like she does. I know that I sound like a silly, desperate psycho who will stop at nothing to get what he wants even if it means dividing the community and hurting people the world over but there’s one thing I’d stop doing; pursuing a woman of my dreams.
Because of my busy schedule, I haven’t seen her face in years and my deep-throat tells me that I’m pursuing a taken-woman, that this man which I don’t take seriously wants to take his people to her people so that they could officially be mr and mrs whatnot. I never thought that in a short time that I had never been there things have changed so much so that she’s expecting their third child. I’ve also heard their nonsensical jokes about not having had taken a love offer which the IT-girl had been wanting to give me.
–END–
