There’s an Update to this story. If you want to read what happened after this, Kindly follow this link

It’s easy for people to fall in love with whoever they want to be in love with. But for people like us, it’s not easy. It’s not easy because our kind of love had been branded as evil. It’s the kind of love no one would like to hear you talk about. You can’t go to your mother and tell her, “Mom, I found someone. Her name is Cecilia. I’m so in love with her I think she’s the one.” Your mom would think you’re crazy. The next moment, she’ll invite the pastor to come and exorcise the unquiet devil from your heart. The kind of devil that makes you fall in love with your own kind. So you may find Cecilia. You may profess your undying love to Cecilia. She would smile and say, “I love you too.” She loves me too because she’s my own kind—she falls in love with women though she’s a woman. Her heart is made to fall in love with only women but she can’t talk about it because it’s an abomination. It’s something no one wants to hear you say so we fell in love and keep the love away from people. We hide it. We only tell people who are one of us.

My first girlfriend was called Matilda. We dated when we were in senior high school. We were careful. We didn’t know who was watching. We wrote love letters to each other. We sealed it with a kiss hoping the kiss would jump out of the envelope and fly to her lips when she opens the envelope. It didn’t happen but we did it anyway. It’s the only way we could express our love for each other. But I was confused about my own body. I didn’t know why I couldn’t fall for men just like ‘normal women’ did. I questioned myself. I questioned my thoughts. I questioned my feelings. I didn’t understand what was happening to me but I loved that I could love someone and that someone could also love me back. 

We had our first kiss before we completed school. It was snappy. It didn’t go deep. It was a risk we were taking. That kiss lasted on my lips for ages. It seeped into my memory. I thought of Matilda and smiled. She became the source of all my fond memories. But after school, we couldn’t keep the love. We only kept the memory of the love we shared. At the university, I fell in love again. With a girl who couldn’t love back because she wasn’t one of our kind. I stayed close to her. I fantasize about her. I made it obvious that I loved her. I said it often but she took it as the kind of love a sister would have for her sister. She didn’t sense the amorous side of my love. She was dumb to it. She was impermeable so my love for her couldn’t penetrate her soul. She spoke to me about her boyfriend and my heart broke. He wasn’t good to her. She hoped he’ll change but he never did. When her heart got broken, she cried on my shoulders while I cried inside me. Hot tears.

Time heals so I moved on. I moved on when I found Erica. It was in the way she looked at me. The way she mentioned my name. The way she always wanted to hold hands with me. I got the clue. We were in the hostel alone one night when she said it. “Do you feel the way I feel towards you?” I said, “I feel it but I wanted to be sure.” She said, “What assurance again?” I answered, “Assurance that you love the way I do. As in you’re the kind that would kiss a girl.” She drew closer and we had our first kiss. 

There are some women you stay close to that people become suspicious. They see the two of you living life and they guess, “These two are partners.” It’s easy for them to guess because one of the girls dresses like a guy and acts like a guy.  Tomboy kind of a woman. It’s easy for the world to catch the vibe when one of you is a tomboy. Erica wasn’t a tomboy. I wasn’t a tomboy. We were two women who loved to be women and loved to dress like women. We could be over each other and no one will suspect or get the hint of our affair. It made it easier. Actually, I didn’t like tomboys. There was a reason I didn’t like men. It’s the same reason I didn’t like a woman who pretended to be a man or lived her life like a man.

We dated until we completed the university. A lot of people thought we were sisters. We fed into their belief so they’ll leave us alone. Outside we were sisters. On the inside, we were more than sisters. Five years later we were still together. We planned our life together and even nurse a dream to travel to a country where their laws made it possible for us to fall in love. We would read every news item about our kind together. We would go online researching on countries that allowed us to fall in love and that were also easier for us to travel to. We nursed a dream together but at the root of that dream was self-doubt about my own orientation. Sometimes I felt I could love a man if I gave myself the chance. “Maybe I’m bi that’s why I think this way.” I thought to myself. 

I had doubts sometimes but the presence of Erica in my life and the special way I loved her broke into all doubt I had and made me decide to stick with her until the end of time. But at some point, the egg cracked. The chicken in it started rearing its head. It happened two years ago when Erica introduced me to a guy she called “A good friend.” His name is Damien. He didn’t know the true relationship between me and Erica. He too thought we were good buddies turned sisters. It didn’t take long for me to know that Damien had a thing for me. 

He called often and texted more often than normal. In normal circumstances whenever a guy starts hitting on me, I would run to Erica and tell her about it. We’ll laugh and call that guy names. It happened every day without fail until Damien started coming along. I was so sure he wanted me but I couldn’t open up to Erica about it. That was when I realized I had a thing for Damien. “If not, why don’t I complain to Erica?” I asked myself. 

I gave him too much space than I’ve ever given to any man in my life. I started visiting his place. On condition that he wouldn’t say anything to Erica. I was cheating. I had to cover my tracks very well before it all falls on my face. One day I was on his sofa when he proposed. I said I was going to think about it. But he crept into the sofa next to me and planted a kiss on my lips. It felt good. Very good I must say. So I kissed back. “What are we now?” He asked. I said, “Promise me you won’t say anything to Erica until I say it myself.” He said, ‘I promise.” I said, “Great. Now you’re my boyfriend.”

READ ALSO: He Fell In A Strange Kind Of Love And Everything Changed

That was during the peak of the Covid. Erica’s work took her to the frontline so she was working extra hours during that time. I had time to see Damien. I had time to kiss him. I had time to grow what we had started. I spent more time with him than with Erica. Slowly I was falling out of love with Erica and the sad thing is, I didn’t have the courage to stop falling out of love with her. Time with her felt ordinary. Her touch didn’t feel like it used to. Her promises felt like they were coming from a stranger. When she talked about the dream of us traveling to a country where we could marry, I felt repulsion in my body. So our love became a dying ember. The only difference was I didn’t know when the final spark will fly and die.

It’s been like this for over a year. Damien is giving me pressure. He doesn’t understand why he can’t talk about our love to anyone. “Are you shy of being in love with me? You’re a grown-up, why are you behaving like Erica is your mother and she’ll be mad when she finds out?” I can see he’s getting frustrated but I don’t know how to break the news to Erica in a way that she wouldn’t be mad at me. I’m a woman so I understand the scorn of a woman. If she gets so mad and spills our secret to Damien, it would be the end of us—the end of me and Erica. The end of me and Damien. 

Caught between the rock and a hard place now. I’ve thought of breaking up with Damien for a while so I can have time to properly break away from Erica. When the dust finally settles, I can slowly go back to Damien with an apology and ask for a comeback. It sounds like a childish thing to do but it’s the only way I think can bring peace. Beneath all these troubles, is also an identity crisis I’m grappling with. I don’t even know where I stand. “What am I? This or that?” The clearest answer I’ve had for myself is being a bi. Maybe this is not the time to even think about love. Maybe it’s time to move away from everything and decide for myself where I belong. It’s dicey. It’s confusing. It’s all over the place—like scattered pieces of wool. How do you get all of them together? 

I’m confused. I need advice, not judgment. Be kind with words. I will listen. You may be all the help that I need. Tell me what you think. Without sentiment. 

–Audrey

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