Will you make it at the end?

“Will I make it at the end”, I ask myself.

I think that question is overly deep to be placed on the wall of an ordinary restaurant. The serenity of the restaurant demeans the question. It lackluster paint whose glory could be dated to the 80’s answered the question. How did the restaurant owner watch it go this bad? Don’t they know about aesthetics?

“The restaurant owner is definitely not making it”, those words slip from my mouth before I can control it. Sometimes our body reacts faster than we want it to. I remember how ubiquitous the Gtbank ad was that I wrote it in my biology note. That is the power of what we constantly focus on.

“Hey babe”, Anthony says.

His presence stills my thought. He always looks good after a shave. If we were in America, I’d have gone to hug him really tight but I really do not want the ‘will you make it at the end crew’ to give me a side eye.

“Someone is looking good”, I say.

I really hope he sees it, the light that settles in my eye when he is around. The smile that is plastered on my face. The stammering, the ermm and soft yes I say.

He doesn’t say anything but is focused on his phone. I really do not know what to do or say. I wander back to when I thought I was an insect in Anthony’s perception. To when he finally noticed me, the way he calls my name. Life shouldn’t be this good to anyone.

“You did not ask about the test”, I blurted out to banish the silence.

“Which test is that one?” he asked without looking away from his phone.

“The one I was preparing for, the reason I couldn’t see the movie with you on Friday”, I say trying to make him remember.

“That movie was great, I felt all the emotions; sad, happy, surprised, intrigued. Babe, infinity war will be terrific”, he exclaimed finally looking away from his phone.

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