I looked out the window on a bright summer afternoon as the sunlight flooded my room and was greeted by the pain and emptiness that has become an unwanted companion in the last few days. As I closed my eyes for a brief moment, huge waves of emotion washing through me like the waves of the sea fiercely crashing against the rocks, I could see flashes of events that led me here. I felt tears rolling down my chubby cheeks and I could taste it saltiness as it cascaded down over my lips like flowing water trying to find its way through an unfamiliar terrain. I can’t believe I allowed myself be fooled again, aaarrgggh! Allowing my thoughts to wander for a microsecond the scenario of our first meeting was replayed in my head. It was the first day of our induction and the class had kicked off when Matt sauntered in wearing a dark grey suit and a sunglasses looking like a James Bond replica. All attention turned on him, the lecturer paused while he settled in the front row. Well, I formed my first impression of him during that first class, I simply thought to myself what a rude, arrogant guy he is. The induction class ended and as I exchanged banter with a group of ladies I had just met, he walked up in his characteristic manner and said the sexiest good afternoon to us in a rich, baritone voice with a sweet British-African accent. I literally melted and after introducing ourselves and talking generally for a while, my opinion of him completely changed.
The first year took some adjusting to but having Matt as a friend made it bearable. We spent most evenings after classes at a popular mall close to the university gisting, shopping and having dinner before going home late into the night. He was such a gentleman, polite, sweet and chivalrous. We would then spend some more time talking on the phone when we got home before bed. It looked and felt perfect, people saw us together and asked if we were siblings or lovers. Gleefully we responded that we’re just friends, the only problem was that I was depositing too much into an emotional bank that does not belong to me. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more complicated than it already is, things took a dramatic turn. Was it a good or a bad turn? Hmmmm…it is all a matter of perspective I would say. I bet you can’t wait to find out in the second part of this article. If you’ve enjoyed this delicious piece then drop me a comment below and tell me what lessons are already jumping out to you. Let’s make it a date next time when I come your way again with a sizzling hot piece like owanbe jollof rice to wrap this up. Cheers!