Read the daily, non-fictional tales of a young, unmarried Nigerian woman who lives in Lagos at this time.
A kissing scene in a movie I watched last night got me thinking about brushing my soft, pink lips - well, I like to think they are pink - against someone else’s.
I haven’t had such thoughts since that night in Olumide’s car when he suddenly leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my lips while he held my chin gently.
He pulled away for a moment and stared into my eyes before he planted another kiss, and another, and yet another on my lips until our lips were locked in a passionate kiss
Speechless would not even begin to describe how I felt and no words would describe the butterflies fluttering in my belly.
We had just returned from a dinner date - Oh, God bless the pre-lockdown days - and he was dropping me off. We had said our goodbyes and I stayed in his car just long enough to pick my phone which had fallen somewhere under the seat. Of course, a part of me wanted a goodnight kiss but I hadn’t expected the passionate kiss I got.
“What?” he asked after the kiss, staring into my eyes in a way that made my heart melt.
“What?” I repeated stupidly.
“Nothing!” he responded. “Just wanted to know what you were thinking.”
“Nothing!” I said, repeating after him for the second time that night.
“So ... should we do this again sometime soon?” He raised his hand to my cheek and used his thumb to make circles.
“Y ... es!” I stammered, not wanting to seem too eager.
We had talked and chatted every day after that and had even made plans to see again until the lockdown happened.
Then he called one day and said out of nowhere, “Anike, I have a confession to make.”
“What confession? You gay?” I joked, laughing loudly at my own joke. When I realised that I was laughing alone, I stopped and asked seriously, “What is it?”
“I don’t know how to say it ... but I feel I have to tell you ... you know I am in love with you ... I am not sure I can live without you ... I have to tell you ...”
Just say it, Oga! My patience was wearing thin.
I could hear him sigh, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, before he blurted, “I am married!”
Oh, Lord! What have I done to deserve this? Only married men have shown interest in me in the past year or so. Was there something on my forehead that said “Married men only”? What was I doing wrong?
I was so shocked that I ended the call without saying another word. He called me repeatedly that night but I was too busy crying myself to sleep that I couldn’t pick.
Of course, I liked Olumide. He was tall, dark, handsome, smelt nice, had perfect dentition, spoke well, and had great finger and toenails. He ticked all the right boxes on my dating list.
How could I not like him? I was thanking my stars that I had finally seen someone I liked and that liked me in return. I thought everything was going well till he jinxed it.
I did not speak to him for a long time until one day when I mistakenly liked his picture on Instagram as I was on my daily stalking duties. I was still shocked that there was no picture, not even one, of his wife on his page.
It was too late to unlike, as he called me almost immediately. For a reason I couldn’t explain, I decided to pick and that was it! He was back in my life.
Right now, it seems safe to speak over the phone, since we cannot meet. But I worry that I might not have the strength to resist him if we ever see after the lockdown.
I am not sure what to do with him. I obviously cannot date a married man, although he says he would begin a divorce process soon. #Yimu! That is what they all say until you get pregnant and a jealous wife has you killed and you become the subject of another Murder Mystery episode on the Crime channel.
No way! No way am I dating a married man.
Not all the kissing scenes on this planet will make me think of kissing Olumide again.
I couldn’t even say that with a straight face.
What will I do? Maybe I will stay up to think about it after I might have stalked him on Instagram for the umpteenth time today.