Let me tell you a story

Let me tell you a story.

And if you don’t like it, then you can completely forget I told you anything afterwards. That, in itself, is a paradox - because you don’t really control what you forget do you?

Back to the story.

I’ll try not to make it a story about a story, but just a story. You understand what a story about a story is right? Where the story teller takes maybe so much time to detail other things like the weather, clothes, curves on a body and sidewalk adverts that you wonder what all that has got to do with the story. There is quite some importance the story of a story comes with… but I’ll tell you about the story of a story another time.

Now back to the story again.

JD was born without any feelings. Literally. He had the senses, and nerves. Physiologically, he was perfect. But since forever, he had no care, love, hate, loyalty, passion, and all the other feelings you or I would have. JD reasoned his way through life and relationships. And he felt quite happy with himself. He actually couldn’t be happy but he knew he wasn’t sad!

I could explain that further, but I am trying to keep the story about the story at a minimum. Alas, we cannot escape some of it.

Yes, JD. He knew his family, almost loved them but it was more like he didn’t hate them. Same arrangements for a small circle of people outsiders called his friends. He had people he liked (didn’t hate) more than others. He did go out to have fun with them often, when it made logical sense to him to go out and not because the idea of ‘fun’ made him excited. He laughed sometimes too, not because he found the situation or joke funny, but because it was a logical reaction at the time; to laugh.

JD went to University, and his circle of friends increased. And then the ladies too. JD always had female friends and some with activity levels beyond platonic. A few had professed love for him. JD liked (didn’t hate) a few more than the others. But it always became a problem when he wasn't  emotionally available for them. Or when he made a lot of girls cry because he was friends with so many other girls. It was a bit awkward because JD hardly made moves to attract any girls. But by way of logic, he could tell when a girl was attracted to him, and his next action would be the most reasonable thing to do based on the signals.

Awkward.

Very awkward because he could - and did when it was the logical thing to do - relate like a regular guy. He could sound like he cared. He could console a lady, take her out to dinner, get her a nice birthday card. All at the same time for as many ladies as he could without being unreasonable. Without sacrificing his studies or savings.

But when difficult conversations pushed him to the wall, he took the bull by the horns - if it was the logical thing to do.

So he had conversations like this quite often.

“…I’m sorry I couldn’t be that guy. Not sorry… uhm I meant to say I understand how you feel knowing I can’t be that guy…”

He sometimes got a few items thrown at him.

Then one day in his 400level, just after his 21^st birthday, JD fell in love!

Boom! In love. All the way in love!

Way to go JD. Or way not to go?

How could you JD? We expected more from you.

He saw her on a queue at some other faculty and just like that, JD felt his heart rate increase. He was shocked. This could not be explained. 

He stopped staring with his eyes but she was all his brain saw.

He tried to play it cool. Think this through he told himself.

A few minutes later, she and three other girls walked past JD and his colleagues, headed somewhere and in a group conversation. JD had his eyes on her the whole time, which was the most illogical thing he would agree that he had done his whole life.

One of his classmates smiled and waved at the passing ladies.

“Hey Sade”

Sade turned, two other girls in the crew also turned.

“Hi Jo” Sade smiled, waved back and continued moving with the girls.

JD’s muse had turned too. Her eyes had caught JD’s directly. The already fast heart rate doubled. JD stopped breathing for a moment. Then she had turned back to the crew and kept moving.

JD gasped. Air was back in his nostrils. This was a lot for him.

He saw her that night in his dreams. And for a week, she was by him in his head all day.

Logically, he looked up his classmate’s profile on facebook, found Sade as one of his friends alright. And then after scanning 758 followers of Sade, he saw her. Follower 759.

Logically, he checked on her page everyday for another 2 weeks, couldn’t find any angles to get closer. Then he sent a friend request.

Follower 759 was a young beautiful lady from another country. She graduated the week JD sent a friend request, got married to the love of her life 3 weeks after, and moved to a new country where she and her husband started work and built a family. She never accepted JD’s friend request.

To be fair she quit facebook a month after her marriage. At least there was no further activity on her profile. Maybe she preferred whatsapp. Or her and her family moved to China!

I don’t know if she lived a happy and fulfilling married life, but I hope she did.

Now why am I telling you this story?

No matter how special you think you are, no one cares and life should continue. JD, after years of being consistent and special,  got struck by love. 

Big deal. Follower 759 should have left her degree, and her fiancée? Ha! Because true love always wins?

No it doesn't. I'm sorry.

Like I said, you can do anything after this story. Just remember that when you have that moment that takes you breath away, no one promised you that it would work out your way. Maybe it worked out for someone else. The earth won't stop for you.

Stay logical!

Year 2. Getting Closer...

It was raining. Jonathan knew he had to get his school bag out of the rain. He didn’t care so much about his body. The documents in the school bag were about all that gave him an existence in Nigeria. All the papers that if a rat got to, you’d know the rat had to have been sent by some diabolic persona. He looked around for the nearest shelter. It was the materials’ laboratory, more commonly used by the civil engineers. It really wasn’t much of a laboratory by world standards, but for Federal education… Hmph! It looked open.

He rushed in and turned to close the gate-door he’d entered through. The rain intensified just as he made it through, as if to warn him not to take things for granted. With his back to the room, he wiped his forehead of rain droplets. He wondered how long he was going to be trapped in here. Sigh. He turned to face the room. There, staring at him all the while, headphones in her ear, was Rose. She wore a faint smile.

“Hi” He said, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t hear you”

She smiled. “Hi.”

He looked around. It was just them in the small room called a laboratory. Maybe it was more of a laboratory because it had awkward uncomfortable concrete slabs and no chairs. He located a small stool in the corner. He grabbed it and sat a comfortable distance from her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked politely.

“It’s raining.” She looked outside as if to show him what he didn’t know. He felt dumb immediately. Of course. It was raining. He smiled. She chuckled, her eyes widening in the dull light. He laughed.

“Yea. I should have figured.” He flushed.

“Nah. No biggie”

And somehow they got into a conversation. They had been colleagues for a full year now, though they had not really had much of long chats. This was 200 level. They were going to have a lot of chats this year!

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After this, there would be no going back. If he could tell her this, she would have a part of him in her hands, he would be vulnerable. And if she used this to judge him, if she couldn’t handle this, then their friendship might as well be over. He decided to take the risk.

His holiday had not been totally fantastic anyway. His Dad had been very broke just before school resumed. It was one thing to accept to yourself that you had no money. It was a different thing to face the world with this state of self awareness. As he prepared to go back to school, his mum had packed a lot of foodstuff in a bag for him. That was the contribution she could give. His dad was to drive down to the village for an important meeting. It was best that he followed his Dad down to the village and then from there take short transport to school which was 2 states and about 150km away. He probably had not realized the severity of the cash shortage until he found himself in school with N1000, 2 heavy bags and no accommodation but his Aunt’s house in the city, demanding N200 daily transport to shuttle to and from school. To top that, he had sustained a flesh bruise on his thighs the morning he left Lagos, when he fell down the stairs trying to carry his bags down to the car. By some stroke of grace, he had liaised with an old secondary school mate with whom he could stay with on the school campus and thus continue going for lectures, all before the N1000 finished. It was a miracle indeed. His new roommate had unknowingly probably saved his life. Being in such a broke state had zapped a lot of confidence from him, he almost couldn’t defend his surname anymore. He had lost track of all the things he stood for, his beliefs, his principles. It was a tough period. Within 2 weeks of resumption though, his Dad sent him some money…survival money however, none for the rent nor complicated settlements. Just survival money.

And that was his story. From the deep. He had just told her. She was dead quiet. She was imagining what he had been through. She had seen him in class all the while this was going on. But she couldn't have guessed he was going through such. He always had a calm air around him. Like he had life under control. She developed a deep respect for him. He had always been very likable. She smiled, then blushed at the thought of how embarrassed she would have been if he could see that she had smiled. But the night and the distance between them made that physically impossible...it wasn't a video call anyway. She was getting fond of him. And she feared that soon, she would have to trust him with a few of her own secrets....

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He wanted to call. He wanted to know how she was coping with all this. He wanted even more; to be there physically to assure her that everything would be great, that all would go well. He wanted to hold her shoulders, to squeeze her palms in his. He knew she would be anticipating his call. She would be needing his call. But he also knew something. Recently, he had been thinking of her more than he could explain logically. He saw her bright eyes when people around him smiled. He heard her name when the birds whistled past or when he passed by a colorful flower. Her laughter replayed in his head every time he thought of something mildly funny and he'd wonder if she'd find it funny too. He smelt her on his way to school, despite the dust and hot winds. He felt her presence in many songs on his playlist...like she was the one the musicians sang about. And he touched her in his dreams, where, somehow, they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Was he obsessed?

It was this question he thought of for so long…minutes, and then hours.

And then she called him instead. He was late. He had missed it.

“Jonathan.” It was a sigh. “How are you?” her feigned composure wasn’t holding up well.

He felt very guilty. “Hey. Rose! How are you? How did it go? Are you okay? Is he okay? Did all go well?” He was rushing the questions, as if asking faster was a substitute for asking earlier.

She answered him perfunctorily. Out of politeness. All was well. Her brother was just fine now. The doctor had assured them.

"Ah! Praise God!" He felt very relieved, thankful, for her sake. He knew how much the operation and her brother's safety meant to her...and he had not been there to share her anxiety. He tried to make a weak excuse for not calling earlier. It sounded even weaker... In trying to control what he felt was an obsession, he had failed as a friend.

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She wasn’t picking his calls. It was driving him crazy. 2 days in a row.  She had not come to school either. He was worried about her and afraid for himself. Was she okay? It was quite odd. Normally she would have called to say hi...or at least answered her calls. What if she hadn't forgiven him for not calling on Saturday? What if she had concluded to herself that he was not going to be there for her? But that would be unfair. She couldn't reach such conclusions on her own without consulting him. They were in this together! Weren't they? Or were they? What was "this" anyway? Technically, they were 'just' friends. Although they were very fond of each other... Or at least he knew she meant the world to him. But what did he mean to her? He didn't even know. Jonathan asked himself so many questions. He would go mad at this rate, he warned himself.

By the third day he was contemplating finding her house in town or hiring a private detective to do that. He had dropped an increasing number of missed calls and un-replied texts over the past few days. Obinna and Femi held him back though.

"You plan to roam the whole Estate? Or knocking on every door? You'll surely get arrested bro." Femi said.

"And if you find her house? You think this is some movie where you waltz in and untie her or something?" Obinna scoffed. "Wake up and smell the coffee?" Obinna was the most cynical realist that ever walked the earth. He would physically restrain Jonathan if he had to.

"I'm sure you are even exaggerating this. Maybe you are taking this too personal. She's probably not answering anybody's call. She could have lost her phone...or left it somewhere." Obinna supported his point with some background name-calling.

"He's right you know" Femi added. "You may be making this personal when it isn't."

Jo was still worried. He didn't believe it wasn't personal. His conscience bore heavy the guilt of not calling her first on Saturday. Or the guilt of something else he didn't know he did. He just wanted to apologize, to ask for a chance to fix this. He had to tell her…he would move mountains for her. She had to know. He had to tell her. She shouldn’t judge him without telling him. She had to give him a chance to prove to her what she meant to him. She had too. This was too early in the day for such a quarrel.

His shoulders sagged.

Then he asked to use Femi's phone. He dialed. It rang as usual.

She picked up the phone!

Why I hate you...The Straight Line.

Disheveled Jonathan was at a loss for what to do, or say. He was back in his apartment now and he felt drained. Why did she always have this effect on him? Why did she have so much influence on his emotions? He was almost angry now.

Yes, he had loved her...and told her.  And what had she replied? A long speech he couldn't care to remember...but of course that she couldn't love or something like that. And "...bla bla bla we can only be friends..." He had squeezed like bad paper through a printer. A mistake alright. Not knowing what to do with the pain and shame, he had totally avoided her for close to a year. Being in the same class, yet worlds apart.

Now she wanted them to be friends again!!! Friends!! 'to rebuild their old connection'. He shook his head. The same connection that pushed him into love, where he had landed like Humpty.

He reached for his laptop. He was going to write something...to blog about it. His blog was not really well visited, maybe a few friends. He mostly wrote short fiction and a few satires that were never seen by those whose stupidities were addressed. But today, he was going to write his own tragedy.

He started;

"
Forgive me readers...this post is different. It is an expression of my state, which i know is really none of your business. I really shouldn't, but this is all i can think of right now, and i feel like letting off some.
This is not fiction. It will not be well composed, but it is true. And sad.

Why I hate You
I cannot write a poem
I cannot sing a song
Maybe because I haven't tried them
Maybe because i'm afraid i'll get it wrong

Nevertheless i must say
a few things that's been on my mind
quite heavy they weigh
so forgive me if i forget to rhyme


I hate it when you get us so close
and tell me everything you've never told another
then leave me nothing to hold
but the letters we wrote each other


I hate it that you meant everything to me
That you were all i'd dreamt I wanted
Only for you to wake me up to a reality
and leave me forever haunted


I hate that we ever started this journey
only to crash so badly
unfair that you (apparently) were unhurt
while I, conspicuously distraught.


I hate it when you teach me to love
then say you are unable to fall
no butterflies nor cupid's arrow
not for anyone at all.

I hate it when you say it's complicated
and draw twisted lines in your head
'cos to me it's pretty simple
Just come to me as i have come to you.

I hate it when everyone who sees us together
says there's definitely something in us for each other
we radiate magic for all to see
yet none enough for ourselves to believe

I hate it when my heart fears
that no one else might have the power to
cure me of this disease called you
Oh! You Cause Me Such Despair.


Write me another letter
cry me a small river
just show me that i can melt the ice,
that i can find your heel that wasn't wetted by the Styx

And if it be not possible
to show me that i make you as vulnerable
i beg of you
suffer me just a little.

*sigh*  
"

He looked at the article again. And again.

He thought to himself. He had other things to do and shouldn't be sitting here like a Romeo. Romeo was designed to be a love tale, nothing could bother him about a good degree or job or money or fame. But I have a reality to face!

With that, he posted his latest writing online.

Jonathan & Rose : Downhill. Final Year.

“No.” 

It was barely audible, a whisper, almost just a thought, but it was loud enough to break glass in her head and puncture holes in her heart. It was the one word she had dreaded to hear, the one word she had hoped he wouldn’t say, and alas, the same word she had said to him about a year ago. She knew before she’d mustered up the courage to talk to him, that karma would sting more than the Spiderman’s catalyst. But she had prayed and hoped against it, the feeling in her heart finally winning the argument, believing that there was no way he could feel any different. Now he was ripping her soul apart. She gasped; the hurt was choking.

He remembered all too well. It had hurt like hell then, and it was still sore now. Geez! She was unbelievable. To imagine that she would bring this up now, had she forgotten what she put him through? Oh! She never had a clue even. After all, she had walked away. His mind was racing, and for some unexplainable reason, his heart was beating faster too. He was getting too uncomfortable.

Outside them, the world was serene. Perfect weather, people strolling about the park, some couples even shamelessly displaying their affection. Every other thing was at peace, even the lizards seemed to have made friends with insects. But there was turmoil in one girl’s heart and a war in a boy’s.

It seemed like forever before words came out.

“I really don’t know what you expect from me, Rose. You gave up on me when I needed you. That almost killed me. I can’t do that again. It’s just…i…i..i’d rather stay away…” he stammered without knowing why.

“I didn’t Jo. You don’t understand.” 

“What was there to understand? Tell me? After all the moments we had, I tell you how I feel and you tell me ‘I don’t understand’ and then two weeks later, best couple award goes to you and Ebuka. I’d say there’s too much misunderstanding here and that is because you make things so complicated!”

Bystanders could hardly tell that these two were talking to themselves. No eye contact, almost as if each was preparing to run.

“You mean a lot more to me than Ebuka ever did, believe…”

“You know, I’m fed up with that crap. That’s all lies.” 

Rose sighed. She was being pierced. That was a direct hit.

Jonathan continued, “Ebuka has turned out to be some cheat or whatever and you’re trying to find something to fall back on or something…” he stopped. Rather, something stopped him.

She was crying. Very silently, but they burned her cheeks. She didn’t know but they burned him too.

 He was determined not to get softened.

“Oh! Come on! I don’t expect that from you, it’s rather cheap considering that all this is your fault.”

She sighed again. More tears. By now, some spectators had begun to stare at them longer than good manners would permit. 

This was really getting to Jonathan. He tried to get angry but failed. He tried not to care, but failed. A question reared its head and he quickly parried it. He told himself he had to stand firm. This wasn’t a movie, although for the 3 years they had known each other, Rose had been exactly what the sad love songs were about. No happy endings, but she could make you feel high and low at the same time. The way they had connected last year was indescribable. She had made him feel like he could pause time, walk on water, even shoot the wind. Then she shattered him. He had run, or tried to, but the school wasn’t big enough. He avoided her physically, but she stayed in his thoughts. He heard every news and rumor about her and they fed his pain. He saw her in dreams, nightmares, he could almost swear she was some sorcery lady. He had not got over her, and now she was back. The question reared its head again. He waived it as before. And now she was crying. If he ever had any armor, these tears would definitely corrode them. He was just some doomed victim of Stupid Cupid.

“Rose don’t.” his voice had softened, and he could almost swear his eyes were moistening too. He handed her his handkerchief, thankful that it was very neat.

“You said you love me one time, Jonathan. Is there any of that left?” this time, the question came from his nemesis, the cause of his joy and pain. And she had asked between sobs. 

He stayed speechless forever. He had been trying to avoid this. He didn’t want to think about it. He tried to think about irrelevant things; what he’d wear tomorrow, if he preferred Mercedes to BMWs, what he’d like to eat for dinner. It wasn’t working. He tried to look for distractions. Rose stared at him through her dampened eyes, looking for signs that might give him away.

When Jonathan finally faced the truth, as if to punish him for trying too hard to run, it hit him in the gut, with a reaction that was new to him. His right eye moistened a lot more than was normal.

Rose got up, gave him a look that said she saw it too, and walked gently away, maybe so as not to fall. She was still pressing the handkerchief to her face.