My palms were sweaty and heart raced in my chest. He was calling. I couldn’t answer it…or could i? It was too nerve wrecking to ignore. Maybe I should just answer it and make the moment end quickly, this way I would spare myself too much thinking. But what if I screwed up? What if he wasn’t what I had imagined he would be? We had talked for ages now and I had come to imagine him to be my knight in shining armor; my Romeo and I his Juliet. Shut up, stop being a drama queen and just answer the damn phone you fool or he’ll hang up.
There was silence on the other end and then he spoke.
He sounded relieved, calm, as if the voice he heard was exactly what he had been expecting. But I was not so sure that I shared the same enthusiasm. He sounded quite unlike the man I had pictured in my head. Deep reverberating bass, a charming husky sound when he cleared his throat and most importantly a sense of humor. He lacked the former two, but for all the sadness in the world did he know how to make me laugh.
After a while my shallow façade began to fade and I began to see this man as if for the very first time. He wasn’t perfect yes and did not look like prince charming but he certainly charmed me far more than any frogs that I had kissed before. I was happy to be with a man who could understand decency and respect and most importantly what it meant to be a gentleman. However, he did not believe in God. I mean he did, but you get what I mean.
I had been raised in a Christian family all my life and here I was face to face with a man who put all my beliefs to question. He swept me off my feet with his jokes that always flared my passions and rang alongside my own deep seated desire to indulge, which the good Christian that I was never dared condone.
He also knew just what to say and when to say it. I remember one particularly low afternoon, having been caught in the middle of settling drunken squabbles that my parents often tended to explode into. This time however things were bad. Voices were raised, ultimatums were reached and at the end of the day I had to stand in and cool them off. I felt powerful; having them trust me, but weak in knowing just how much they affected me whenever they fought. I can’t lie, I was drained and forlorn as the peacekeeper and needed someone to tell me that it would all be okay in the end, and he did.
He calmed my insecurities and applauded my peacekeeping like a natural, weaving in the sexual innuendo that I had now come to know him well for. To me he was perfect, absolutely perfect. But also, he was not a virgin.
Chastity and the sanctity of sex in marriage was something that I had long been taught about and I did not believe that it was meant to be engaged in anywhere else but inside the confines of marriage between a man and his wife blessed by God and by the parents who have been set by God over you.
Nobody knew that I was even in a relationship with him at this point, nor did they; by his youthful light brown skin, his supple moustache and infectious young man’s laugh, know that he was actually many years my senior. I loved the way that he made me feel though. He was mature unlike the many men whom I had danced and flirted with.
He had plans for his future. To own a piece of land, advance in his profession, grow old with someone whom he loved by his side. Surely it did not matter how old he was as long as he cared for me, respected me and treated me like his queen. I was important to him and he to me and that was all that mattered. It’s all that should have mattered…right?
For goodness sake why do I doubt myself so much? I love this man. That’s enough…right? What I feel is all that should count. I just wish I could put what I feel into actual words that he could understand.
“I want you to be in my life but my parents will never accept you.” Why? What will I tell him when he asks me why? Uhm…I know. I can tell him that they are not sure that he is the right fit for me. Yes, I’ll say that they are worried about the age and whether I will be able to sire children with him. Oh, who am I kidding, we both know it is because he is not a Christian, not a virgin and he drinks.
Well, many people also drink. You two drink as well. Yes you, mum and dad, so I don’t see why this should be a problem especially when you can see that this man is better than any of the other boys that you want me to be involved with. I don’t care, I love him, I want him, and he wants me, so I will have sex with him. I want to have sex with him…right? Of course you do, shut up and grow up woman you’re not a child anymore. Face this like the adult that you are or they’ll never respect you to make adult decisions for yourself. Do it for you…do it for him. Him…?
He was not only comforting and loving; he was good looking, from his eyes behind his frameless glasses, black and piercing deep down to my soul, to his teeth that sparkled white whenever he gave that charming smile and his dimples…gosh, his dimples.
The way he held me in his arms and whispered that he loved me. Then he would caress my cares away and silence my worry. I was scared but he made me not be. I knew that he would be gentle and he promised that he would be. His strong arms and intimidating physique did not scare me because they would never be used against me, would they? No! He loved me and I loved him. I had to show him that I loved him too. He had made all of this for me.
I was there, naked before him; I was waiting to give myself away. I just…couldn’t do it. I was scared. I remembered my God. I remembered my chastity and reciting the vows in my head. I remembered why I had fallen in this place to begin with. I was not happy with my life and I needed to find myself. A man…was that what I needed to tell me who I was? Sex…was that what I needed to feel again. Alcohol…is that what I required to numb my conscience and allow me to do this, to let him inside me.
I stopped…I pushed him away, and I ran…far…fast…anywhere. I was free, and I soared…up, high and out of sight. I found myself about to lose myself, and there in the clouds I knew…I wasn’t ever going to look back again.