It took a very long time for her to say yes to my proposal. At first, she said she didn’t trust me. Many guys had come into her life and have absconded just when she was growing to love them. She didn’t believe I could be any different. I told her, “You won’t know what I bring to the table until you say yes to me. Dear, I’m different. I can be your sunshine but if you think you’ve had too much sunshine in your life, then I will be your rainfall. By all means, I will be the difference you seek.” She told me, “You think you can stand the rules? You think you have what it takes to stand it till the end?”
Every relationship has some rules. Some are written. Some are silent. Some are loud. I didn’t know what the rules were but I knew I loved her and my love for her could transcend every rule she had up her sleeve. I was bold when I told her I could stand the rule. I had the confidence of the peacock and the pride of the same peacock until she laid down the most important rule she had always kept for all the relationships she had been in. She asked, “You think you can abstain?” I said, “Abstain from what? Food? From other women? From my ex? What do you want me to abstain from?
She rolled her eyes and chuckled loudly. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t pretend. I’m talking about sex. I haven’t done it before. I’m keeping it till I say I do. Can you abstain?” I started stuttering; “Abstain? Abstain for how long?” She answered, “As far as we’ve not been declared as a husband and a wife before the Lord, we have no right to shuperu. You think it’s something you can do?” I said, “Ok, let’s go to the next rule.” It was like answering questions in exams. When you’re faced with a tough question—a question you are not sure of the answer, you’re obliged to skip to the next one and later return to the tough one. She said, “This is the ultimate rule whose acceptance opens the doors to the next rules. Can you abstain? Yes or no?”
I’ve come to love her. I’ve been in three or four relationships that involved shuperu and yet didn’t end anywhere. I gave them all my heart. I spent time building the chemistry. I spent my energy building what I thought would last. But when the time came for them to leave, they didn’t think about all the shuperu we’ve had. They didn’t look back and say, “Awww this guy is so good in bed that when I leave him I won’t have anyone like him again.” None of them considered that. They all left. One cheated. One found another man who had more money than I did. My skills in bed didn’t matter. How I made her feel at that point in our relationship didn’t score any marks in my favor. Money is everything so she left. The other one, I’ve forgotten what happened. She too left without considering all the good times we’ve had. If shuperu couldn’t save any of those relationships, then what’s the point?
I said Yes. “Yes, I can abstain. I’ve come to love you very much. I’m ready to do anything to keep you.” She sighed. I was waiting for the next rule. She said, “You guys are all the same. You’ll say yes today but later try to push your luck. There’s no pushing of luck in this. There’s no ‘we should give it a try.’ There’s no pleading for me to change my mind. The rule is the rule—until we say “I do” to each other, there’s no hope in getting to the promised land.” I looked deep into her eyes, drew a cross on my chest with my right thumb, and said, “I cross my heart and hope to die. I will never ask for what you can’t give. Just trust me.”
She said, “Then let’s give it a try and see where destiny would lead us to. If it’s God’s will for us to go all the way, I know nothing can come between us.” I asked, ”What are the other rules? She said, “No more rules. This is all there is and it’s very important to me that’s why I’ve overstretched it.”
She was twenty-three and I was twenty-six. She is very beautiful and well-behaved. When it comes to me and the way I look, I will say I’m just a man. I look like a man. There’s nothing to it. Just a man who looks manly. She said she loved me and I know her reason for loving me had nothing to do with looks. Because I’m just a man—man in love who is ready to travel the mile with her.
Soon the two of us became inseparable. She was happy in my presence so I was ready to give her all the presence she wanted. Presence is cheap. If she wanted it every day, I could afford to give it to her every day. I loved her presence too. Nobody laughs at my jokes like she does. The world may say my jokes lack punchlines but she doesn’t care about punchlines. All she wants to hear is a joke from me and she’ll laugh at it. Sometimes she doesn’t even know it’s a joke so she’ll ask me, “Is that a joke?” I will tell her, “Sweetheart, it’s a joke.” Then she’ll laugh. Because my jokes shouldn’t go un-laughed at.
We survived the first trimester of the relationship. People say the beginning is always hard but we breezed through the first three months and all we did for love was hold hands. Ok, let me admit something here. It was hard for me. When she came into my room and lied in my bed carelessly, showing a little bit of thighs and cleavage, damn it was hard for me. The history of my bed and what had gone on in it kept playing in my mind whenever she lied in my bed. The voice in my head kept asking me to give it a try but whenever I remember the rules, I tell myself, “God is my help.” She could light up the room without trying. Her presence in my room made everything beautiful but….hmmm.
So it was hard for me but she was jolly and busy laughing at my stale jokes. We survived six months together and all we had to show for those six months was just a hug. That kind of hug church ladies give to you when they don’t want to upset God. They give you a half shoulder and a half neck because God doesn’t like it when their bouncy breast hits your hard chest. Yeah, that kind of hug. That’s all I got in the six months of our relationship.
One afternoon I had a dream I was kissing her. The dream looked so real I started smiling in my head. Then I heard a knock on my door so I got up to see who was knocking while my world was being rocked with a kiss. I got up, touched the doorknob and I felt it. I touched the curtain and it felt real. I pinched myself and it hurt. “Wait, what’s happening here? Is that real?” I called out her name and she responded. “So it’s real?” Sh!t it’s real! I screamed and asked who was at the door. The little voice said, “I’m looking for bra Ato!” I responded, “Please I’m not there.”
I went back to her and it happened again and again until the two of us couldn’t breathe for so long and we were about to pass out.
Everything changed from that point. She would allow me to do everything to her but when I get close to testing waters, she would say “No. Remember the rule.” I will retreat and surrender. It was hard. I would be left unsatisfied. My emotions would be bruised. I would suffer the consequences of unsatisfied passion but she would look just fine. Feeling fulfilled and brand new. I started feeling cheated. Being cheated makes the heart goes angry so little things got me upset. She would say, “But I thought we both know the rule?” I would say, “Yes, but you get me too far a place where the rule has to be broken. If we can’t do it then what’s the need for all these prelims that lead to nowhere? Then we better stop everything and go back to the days where holding hands was enough. Where you gave me church girls hug and didn’t feel any guilt.” She answered, “Dear Ato, I’m giving you half a loaf and it’s better than none.” I responded, “Dear, the cobra doesn’t know half a loaf. It either spits venom or spits venom. There’s nothing in between.”
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We had those little fights for so long and nothing changed. The rule was still the rule. I decided to pull back. I felt she was using me to satisfy a pricking urge of hers while I’m always left unsatisfied. I made a new rule; “If the journey won’t take us to Canaan, then there’s no need seeing Canaan without stepping there. Nothing or everything.”
She said, “You’re very selfish. You’ll take away what makes your woman happy just to fulfill a selfish need? Then you don’t deserve to be in love.”
We’ve been on this rollercoaster for a whole year and a half. Sometimes we break up. Then we come back again. She calls me selfish. I call her ‘selmeat’ for the fun of it. We could go for days without talking to each other because of this reason. It has become the reason I wake up at night. That her attitude of giving me half a loaf has driven me to a point of cheating many times. I’ve discussed it with her, telling her how difficult things become when she leaves me halfway. But my halfway is her full-way so she doesn’t care. Now, I’m the one who is selfish. We are breaking down slowly because of this. Is there any other rescue for us?
I don’t want half-cooked meat. She wants it half cooked. How do we meet in the middle? A point where both of us will feel satisfied?
–Bra Ato
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