Where isn't love?

Don't look at me, I don't know either.

Day 16 of reading the book.

My Lover’s Eyes ii

My lover’s eyes contain the right amount of fire to defrost my frozen heart and melt the egoistic sword I unsheathe for human interactions - Excerpts from WHERE ISN’T LOVE?

That excerpt is not a random pick by the way. Seeing that April is the real season of love as opposed to that imposter called February, we’re going to talk about love.

You know how there are core lover boys and girls, the ones we call “Real lovers?” The very ones who are not ashamed to show how smitten they are by their partners? (cue in Salem and Jesi) I like to think that I’m one of them but in secret. The first time I felt my stomach knot because of a strange feeling, it was because of my first period but the second time? It was because I saw a boy that I liked for the first time in my life. I was barely fourteen but I already knew from watching “Catalina and Sebastian” that I was going to be a lover. I didn’t have enough to model my love life after in real life so I relied on romance novels and TV series.

The first time I saw him, it was at one of those Easter Campouts that was organized by the church, he was a very pretty boy and he knew it. He walked with a certain gait and put one leg before the other while leaning back to create a bounce. He also flew his collar as was the trend and I knew that I wasn’t the only one smitten, the other girlies were too. I was never raised to openly like people so I kept it to myself and decided that he was just going to be a crush. I looked away and focused on the teens’ meeting which was the gathering of teenagers from different parishes. I got to my hostel that day and I just knew that I hadn't seen the last of him.

We didn’t establish contact until the final day of the campout where he walked up to me and collected my number. Not without telling me how pretty I was though, it had to be said. We left camp knowing that we were both special. If you’re around my age now, surely, you’ll remember how we used 2go and Facebook like our lives depended on it. He found me on Facebook within a week and I found that it had been a game of the gawkers on the day that we first saw each other. He had gone ahead to ask about me from the people in my parish and he was fascinated. The young man being a boarder meant that we had to wait till the next teens’ program over the holidays to see each other. We didn’t stay in the same area so we had no choice, really; mostly because we were teenagers still being driven around by our parents. Rebelling at fourteen would have earned serious beatings.

By the next meeting, it had been a few months since we had already eased into talking online comfortably so it was quite easy to talk to each other in real life and it was perfect. It felt like we had known each other for years and most importantly, I felt free. Coming from a non-expressive household did a number on me and I didn’t think I was capable of being a softie even though I always imagined it till I met him. I say this because I had attempted to like boys from my school before and I was left utterly disgusted by them, especially after I got beaten by my parents because of the bad behavior of one of those boys who couldn’t keep his foolish likeness to himself.

Anyway, I could go on and on about how at fourteen, I felt like I had met my soulmate because of how gentle and doting he was. I could tell you that, unlike the other boys, he didn’t have to be mean to show me that he liked me, he just did. I could also go on to tell you that while I was hardened at home with my guard up, with him, I was just an actual teenage girl. I could tell you that we quickly became popular as “boyfriend and girlfriend” in the teen sphere and we all managed to keep it within the teen community without the adults finding out. I could also tell you that during the Easter campouts, he always made sure that he saved food for me from the kitchen because he knew that the teens excos never got to eat like the others because of how busy we always were. I could also tell you that he always held my hand during the bonfires and I could also tell you that for every dinner and awards night event that we had at the campouts, he always waited in front of the girl’s hostel till I was ready so he could walk me into the hall. I could also tell you that he gave me a printed photograph of him on his graduation from King College that I kept for years.

I could tell you all that or I could tell you that we were teenagers with absolutely normal feelings but I couldn’t express them because I didn’t want to get the short end of the stick. I would go back home and bite my tongue from talking about it with anybody, and yes, we were normal teenagers who knew nothing about the use of the things between our legs so we remained virgins. We were teenagers smitten by each other till we grew apart.

Now, when someone asks me to describe what being in love is, I’d say it’s feeling like a fourteen-year-old giggly teenager again. I’d say that I grew up to fall in love like that just once and only when I felt my stomach knot like it did the first time did I realize that I was in love again. I’d say that even though I still don’t know how to physically express it, I know never to run out of words. I’d say that everyone might consider me a hard guy but in love, I’m just a girl who allows her shoulders drop after raising them outside. I’d say it’s waking up every day with something to look forward to because I know that I have a home in the heart of my lover. I’d say that it’s feeling like God intentionally had me in mind when he was molding you. I’d say it’s writing and publishing a book as a teenager about our fairytale love without anybody knowing that it’s about us because I’ll lie to everybody that the story is not based on true events even though we both know that it is.

I just want to say that I’m glad I titled it “classic” instead of “classy” because that would have been so razz.

When someone asks me to describe what being in love is, I’d say it’s looking into my lover’s eyes because they contain the right amount of fire to defrost my frozen heart and melt the egoistic sword I unsheathe for human interactions.

Is this a safe space? This may or may not be a true life story, you can choose to think of it however you want to but just know that I’ll deny all these things I wrote here if you ask me outside. I’m just a storyteller, please. Now, focus and come back to reality where fuel is still 800.

PS: Buy “Where isn’t Love by Alison Cole Chiori” so you can read poetry and feel what I’m feeling.

SUPER PS: You know that you have to tell me a story about your love life because of how super vulnerable I got with you so you better reply me!

SUPER DUPER PS: If you’re a teenager reading this, you better not let me catch you talking to boys. Read your books before I deck you 😭