Babe, how are you doing? I know we chatted just yester night; we didn’t finish till this morning I’m sure you’re on your bed right now. You need some good rest baby. When you’reawake I promise this will put a smile on your face. I know you’ve probably not seen my ugly handwritingthis year and you don’t want to be seeing it first thing in the morning, but hey - you really have no choice here.
So good morning is probably how I should start provided you say yours back with your knees reaching the floor atleast half way. Seriously! I’m waiting. Alright, bawoniomo dada? Sheyisegidi lo se ninu sleep. Ehn?Mo tiriise dada nioju’e. Oyadide, go and brush before you get my paper slimy. You think I don’t know how you look when you just wake upni? Guess you don’t know I have watched Shrek? Guess you haven’t heard that version of Yoruba in a while too. That’s what you get for not properly teaching me when we had all the time last semester’s break to watch those Yoruba movies on your pc. In fact,you have until after you’re done reading this piece to save your ancestors before I spoil what they worked so hard for since Oduduwa.
I am serious about you brushing though – and wash your beautiful face too, just in case you write back to me on this same leaf some day. I know how much you can get back at me with your pen and a paper. Remember the first time in the library that we met?The serenity and harsh chill ambiance of the library, typical of 12 am and 4 am didn’t stop you from giving me such a hard time. To think itwas only a simple questionthat I asked that night and how you decided to somehow keep me till day break tearing my books empty.
What did I say?“Do you know Oluchi?”but then you exploded “O! Is it Oluchi that sings in choir, or Oluchi, Ngozi’s sister? Maybeit’sOluchi that is the daughter of mama Oluchi.Hun!?! What kind of stupid jamb question is that?”
When I read it, your words right on top of mine, jumping out of the paper in a kind of rush, I had to keepcalm and write back “I was referring to Oluchi the model”.
So you paused as you looked steady on the sheet on the sit next to the girl beside me as you read it. SMH was the calmlook you gave me after which you began writing “shouldn’t you have put that first rather than just put Oluchi?”
So I replied“I’m sorry about that. I thought your friends would have at least told you that you had that much striking glamour even in a library. I was beginning to think a runway was going down somewhere around?”I added, thinking I really couldn’t have overdone it as I slipped the sheet back to you and watched. Then you read it and with that expressionless face, you sighed and just slipped the sheet under one of the books on your table; long enough that I equally exploded and began whispering “Hey! Hey! If you would not write back, give me my paper back. It’s really not your property”.
A minute and more, you almost didn’t flinch. Later, after I had disturbed for a while, after the girl in-between your seat and mine said she needed some break from us in the nicest way, and after she decided to leave her seat empty for me, you let out some“Why are you just disturbing me?You’re in a library for crying out loud. Look, I’m trying to focus here. Please!”
So after a chill for the outburst to amend on yourface, I replied “You are the one disturbing me”. And after you heard that, you flinched, started with a smile and finally showed up with an open curve - all that was of course before you threatened with the question “what?” But just before you unloaded all your hate speech for guys that girls think flatter them to their face like some cheap ware that they themselves actually bend in the market to buy, I asked you to hold on, to remember you were also in the library and remember where you put the sheet and pen, before you made any conclusions. And you did.
You went ahead and damaged the paper with your ‘beautiful’ handwriting on mine because you never would have torn your own paper for some random guy that was being a pain in the neck, not even until 4 am, after you told me about your department, your surname’s origin, your pursuit for the top in the fashion industry, why you liked Nollywood, why you had to be a genius like everyone studying medicineand even why you wanted to give the boy girl thing a break. Well now, what can I say? I’m not some random guy anymore so you had better cut out your own sheet if you’re going to ever write me back. I’m dead serious.
Talking about random, you’ve been random lately. You say a lot of awww! K... kill me, bite me, , lol etc. and when you run out of them you dish out some emoticons; sad face, happy face, kisses, loveylovey, thumbs up and more. That’s all I get for a paragraph I type. That’s all I get to know about what you’re thinking; after a meal, after you wake and after you’re dressed – when you don’t want to hang out anymore. Trust me; it kills me when I’m locked out your door. I’m even thinking of getting in through the window now. Stop me if you can. You know I’m crazy – crazy in love with you.
So let’s talk about why you never want to talk about the exams; until last night when you still barely spoke about it. I’d like it if you said it was all fine; I love it when you pull my legs. You know I know. It’s like when you want me talking about your waist even when I should be telling you why I didn’t keep my ‘promise’ of getting sweat every morning in the gym. Even though you don’t ask me straight to my face, you have a brilliant way of mixing waste in the conversation before you climb up or down the stairs in front of me. Not once, not twice until I begin thinking it actually sounds like waist. And when I try not to get lost in the conversation, you ask “Are you like hitting a like button on my waist behind me already?” but I deny it and reply “O no! I’m just trying to improve on my visuals of what a figure 8 looks like.” At least that gets you smiling as well as when you hold the back of my head on our timeout evenings at love garden, when it looks like you’re actually acting sweet. Your eyes and lips pulling strings all over my face like something was lost till I realize I’m the one lost not realizing who is staring right at my face.“Did you try something new with your eyelashes?” I ask while you pretend you have no idea butstill stall me till I’m sure I had better be sure of what’s new you’re acing for the day: is it your lips, your hair, your ears, your neck or everything in between a long scroll down and up your skin? Finally I’m left with something random like “I’m crazy in love with you like fireflies and fire.”
You’ve got nothing to say for yourself if you’re smiling already. If you never talk about your hair on a bad day, a boil on your left eye, another chick on your bad side, or exams in a U.I, you can talk about anything random. If I never tell you right either, how the shades look good on your face or how I’ve always had a bad time with essay exams too, you could always think of fireflies and fire.
My someone special
I know you are fine
Dike.
copyright:Fadesere Tobi, Justus Nwafiedo