We met at the university. Right at level one hundred, she caught my eye, but when I proposed to her, she said no. She had a point—a point every fresher, especially the females, had. She said her parents sent her to school to learn and not to fall in love.

They’ll tell you that, but just give them a year. They forget about what their parents said and didn’t say, and do what their hearts tell them. At level two hundred, I tried my luck again, and she said, “I can’t date two men at the same time. I’m not that girl.”

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While I was waiting patiently for her to forget what her mama told her, someone was already chipping away at her morals, day by day, until he got her to say yes. They had started dating just a few months after she said no to me.

At level four hundred, she was mature and alone. I didn’t just say it; I let it show. I made it obvious that my love for her hadn’t waned since the beginning of time. She told me, “You have a knack for coming in when the timing is wrong. Where do you go when the timing is right?”

I was always around her, being calculative, biding my time. I chased her for four good years, but all I got was a no.

Four years after school, we met at an event I never thought she’d attend. We laughed about the old days and made a mockery of the mistakes our young hearts made. She brought up the memories of my failed proposals, and I told her, “Loving you wasn’t one of the mistakes. The only mistake was my knack for coming in at the wrong time.”

We revived our line of communication, and later, I got a yes from her. It was February. I got a yes in the month of love. How poetic.

Because we were both in different towns, we only talked on the phone. We made big plans. We made the future look like it was just around the corner. She told me she was on leave. I told her I could take some days off to see her on Valentine’s Day. She screamed with happiness. “You’ll come all the way here?”

I’d loved her through the ages. What’s “all the way here” that I couldn’t travel?

She booked the hotel for me. I was supposed to get there in the evening, freshen up, and wait for her to join me at the hotel. We’d have our dinner. The music would play, and we would dance until we were tired. We would go inside the room and fill the air with love.

I was there all night, but she didn’t show up.

She kept texting me that she was on her way until, at 11 p.m., I called her phone and it was off. I ate alone and slept alone in a room that was empty of love. I started calling again as early as 6 a.m., but her phone was still off. I couldn’t bear the loneliness and disappointment for another night, so at 1 p.m., I checked out, even though I was supposed to stay for two nights.

She contacted me a week later with apologies. I asked, “So, what happened?” She answered, “It’s a long story. You wouldn’t understand.” I said, “Try me. I understand algebraic expressions and made it through simultaneous equations. What problem can’t I understand?”

I wanted her to tell me why or even lie to me. All she said was, “It’s better we don’t go into that. I’m only asking you to forgive me.”

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Not knowing why she didn’t show up hurt like hell, but I guess I was only looking for a reason to rationalize her failure to show up. She didn’t have one.

I moved on. We can’t have what we can’t have, I learned. But that girl spoiled Valentine’s Day for me. I’m supposed to write about the most memorable Valentine’s Day but look at what I wrote. That’s how badly she spoiled it for me.