Cursed in Love
It is love that asks, that seeks, that knocks, that finds, and that is faithful to what it finds.
St. Augustine
The room is chilly, even though there’s a scorching sun outside. Anna’s white room looked paler than her skin. She blinked rapidly to filter her tears so she’d take a closer room at her walls, memories of Maxwell etched in every corner; the workspace, and how he’d sit and hold her in his embrace. She turned her gaze to her wardrobe, searching for anything that looked like his shirt. It’s been days, yet she wanted to hear his voice. Picking up her phone, she did the most stupid of things.
“Hey,” her voice came out broken when he picked after the third ring.
“I thought… I didn’t expect you to call. I thought you blocked me,” he said, and she wondered if he missed her even for a moment.
“I have to let you go,” she whispered. More so to convince herself that she needed to let him go. She waited for his words but none came, so she sniffed, wiped her drenched face before she continued.
“I deserve a love that chooses me. I want, I want to be loved too,” she added. Finally letting go of her breath, oblivious she had been holding it in the first place.
“Goodbye Max,” she muttered after a long silence before hanging up. The air was stiff now, and it seemed to be choking her. Her small room seemed to be closing her in as her chest heaved hard and she let go of herself, her restrain. Loud cries echoed in the room and she feared her neighbor would hear, but she couldn’t seem to care or stop herself.
“I… I love him,” she breathed, although she knew he didn’t, and it was all a mistake. With so little effort, Anna lay on her small bed, turning herself to face the ceiling. It was her mistake to start with.
As her breathing slowed, she thought of how this came to be. A few months back, Anna, deep in a conversation with a mutual friend of hers and Maxwell, had asked for his number.
“Wait! You know Max?” she had inquired of Daniel, who seemed to be shocked at her surprise. While he chopped out bits of flesh from his plate of jollof rice and fried chicken, he nodded. Chewing quietly as he studied her expression, she seemed excited, yet unsure.
“Were you guys together?” He asked, and she shook her head. Anna knew what she and Maxwell had couldn’t be called a relationship, yet she wanted to try again, to see if they could somehow rekindle things and work it out. Besides, she was single, now fixed up, and would love to try again. So, retrieving her gaze from her near-empty plate of spaghetti, she looked up at Daniel, who was grinning now.
“Send me his contact details. If you guys played volleyball together, then he’s definitely who I’m talking about.” She said, ignoring the still voice in her head telling her to let things be. Maybe, just maybe, their distance was for the better.
As much as Anna could remember, their relationship had been heated. He had cherished her but he was taken, amid a relationship he wasn’t sure he wanted to end or keep. Anna’s past distrust had encouraged her to let him go; to walk away and cut off all ties. So, she did what she was best at; deleting and blocking him with a speed like lightning. And although she wanted him as much as he wanted her and her skin had yearned for every part of him, she knew it was right to quit a losing battle. It’s been what? Over a year and she dared to try again? Anna was scared now. What if this was a mistake?
Nevertheless, days later, Anna found herself texting Maxwell.
“Hey stranger, this is Anna,” she’d sent. Waiting and checking at every slight moment to see what his reply would be. Or maybe she should have deleted the message?
Anna peered herself off her bed now and walked into her kitchen. Her room felt like a prison, caging her thoughts and desires but what can she do? This was the best she could get. She poured herself a cup of water and gulped rapidly. Her starved stomach grumbled, yet she seemed unfazed. She had no appetite for food.
“Hey,” his reply had come later, and she squealed. That week, they texted a lot, after which they spoke on calls as often as they could. Some nights they’d be on call for hours, and some days, just for a few minutes. Before Anna knew it, her attention was fixed on him. She’d ignored her long list of admirers and channeled her care into this rekindling relationship.
They talked about family, love, career, faith, education, and even way into her passions and desires, as well as his. She had thought they were the perfect match, a match made in heaven — even though deep down, she knew he seemed different. A little more reserved, not as caring, and… not loving. But, Anna, still naive, had thought that could be fixed. Three months into talking daily, Anna dared to ask.
“Hey, umm… what are we?” she inquired. She knew she loved him, but feared he may not, and somehow, this was all on her. Yet she waited, wondering why it took so long to get a response.
“We… Anna, we are friends, aren’t we? I mean, we are good friends. Even more than that, you can say.”
Friends? She gulped. He continued to explain how he wasn’t ready for a relationship and he’d prefer to focus on himself and earn some money.
“But…,” but we talk every day, we watch movies together and discuss them. We laugh together, we sleep on calls, we even spend time every day with each other. What does that make us? Friends? With you? You tell me you wouldn’t mind holding me, kissing me, hugging me. Do friends say that? Anna was going to say, but her words failed her. She was confused. Did she forget what friendship meant?
“Make up your mind after a few months,” she managed to say.
“I want more and would wait for you to decide if you want that too,” she had added. Her voice was low and vulnerable. This is a mistake, her brain repeated but Anna couldn’t understand. No, she wouldn’t. So a few months later, when he came to see her, they had sex.
It was now past 9 pm, and Anna, as if awakened from a bad dream, walked soberly into her room, sitting in her chair before picking up a book from the shelf. The title read Love Gone Wrong. Again, her mind drifted.
That evening when she gave herself, she’d been nervous at first. Before he arrived, she had cleaned her room, dusted her bed, and wore her best cologne. When she heard him knock, she held her breath, only letting it go when her door swung open. He looked different from what she remembered; he was slimmer, darker, and not as tall as he used to be. His lips parted in a slow smile and she smiled.
He walked in and sat on the bed.
Looking around, he asked about her day, what she had eaten, how she had been, and how much she had paid for the new space. He asked all about her and she felt seen. Loved even. A little later, they had run out of things to say, so they held each other’s gaze in an intense stare. He leaned closer and planted a soft kiss on her lips, and she responded, their breathing rushed like starved animals. He held her tight as she straddled him, wrapping her legs around his waist as she poured all of herself into their kiss while his fingers drew circles on her back.
He carried her and placed her softly on the bed before pausing to catch his breath and she did the same. She caught his gaze again, and then, almost immediately, her gaze strayed to the door. His eyes followed hers and he chuckled.
“It’s locked,” he confirmed, and she giggled.
“You said you’re a virgin. Do you want to do this?” He asked before leaning in to kiss her again, and her lips moved slowly in sync with his. She shook her head. She didn’t. Still, she wanted him.
“No,” she breathed.
“I don’t want to do this. But, I want you. I don’t know, I just… I just do.” He chuckled. Nodding defiantly.
It was true. She was conflicted.
“I’ll be gentle.” He whispered, and with that, she shut her eyes only to open them to find herself bare; her blood heated as she shivered with each trail of his fingers. Time had run fast and the room was dark now. He kissed every bit of her being while she inhaled sharply, trembling in anticipation as excitement builds inside her, gathering in between her legs.
Holding her gaze while adoring every part of her, he took her. Their bodies slamming against each other as she groaned in pain and he whispered sweet nothings into her ears, sending chills down her spine. It had hurt for a few minutes, but later, she got used to his rhythm, all the while worried she was making a big mistake.
After a few more minutes, they laid on the bed, backs rested against the soft sheets, sweaty bodies next to each other, and a blank look plastered on their faces. She rose abruptly and rushed for a bath.
He followed.
Caressing her as he washed her clean. He scrubbed away her worries and doubts that somehow, she believed he loved her. He slept over that evening, and subsequently, he slept over more. A few days later she asked again, “what are we?”
His lack of response had caused a huge fight between them and Anna had sulked all through. She finally gave him a few months more to decide, even though a part of her already knew what his response would be.
On the day he answered her question, they had already spent days together doing a lot — like when they tried to prepare a meal together, laughing at how he ran at the slightest tendency of an oil spill. The plantain had burnt and he teased her. They had also enjoyed a drunken night, danced together, saw silly movies together, bathed each other more; with him rolling jokes off his sleeves; claiming to be a king with an origin he couldn’t remember and she had teased him.
They had enjoyed fun and sad moments together and somehow, she had thought they were truly meant to be. But then, the day came and she had cried her eyes out. It was at that moment her mind drifted back to when she had told him she loved him and he never replied. How he seemed to expect her to do things for him, please him much. His exes must have spoilt him too much she had thought.
But it’s true that they had never been to a proper date and he mostly came to see her when there seemed to be benefits involved. Yet, she knew he cared for her. He bought her medicines when she was sick, he comforted her and even patted her back when she wanted to throw up due to a hard time. He was there, and, he wasn’t. She was confused.
So, when she sent him away after hearing his answer and lame reasons, shock took over her. Why am I shocked? She wanted to ask but she knew it was because she had dared to dream of a different ending to their love story. That’s why now, even though Anna knows she shouldn’t contact him, unblock him, or not delete the video she had made of him, she did anyway. Could she blame him? He has never been heartbroken so he doesn’t know how it hurts. Still, was she making excuses?
She is alone in her feelings and she knows it.
Sighing quietly now, she slammed the book shut before returning it to the shelf. She had been a fool, a fool cursed in love. But those were sweet moments and if she could, she would relive them. Only if he would be bold enough to take the first step this time.
Besides, a fool’s love is all she’s known.
