The sound of the kisses, it keeps me wide awake almost every night, so when I come here, I like to give the ‘kissers’ a wide berth,” I explained to her. “Well you were right when you said I am hunting. Really I have been hunting for true love for a while,” she said. “So how would you describe your hunting?” I asked. “In this minute, I would say hopeful.” I nodded my head and volunteered my name, “I am Dennis Eke.” “Camilla Efe.” “Our surnames sound almost alike.” “Yeah and you smile just like my dad.” “I do?” “Yes, you do so much. It made me notice you in the street.” “I thought we were meeting each other for the first time tonight?” “No, it is only for you.” “Your dad must be your idol for you to notice a guy because he has a similar smile to his.” “You said it just right; he is my idol. A few years ago I was afraid I had a crush on my dad…” “And it turned out it was strong admiration for him.” “How did you know that Dennis?!” she shouted and hit me playfully on the head. “You are not the only one who can read minds here,” I teased. “Oh God! I feel naked before you. Is that how people feel when I do what you just did?” “I believe that is how they feel…well I was joking.
That did not come by reading your mind. I read it somewhere that girls need their fathers to arm them and boys need their mothers to arm them. When parents play these roles perfectly their children tend to dream of marrying their parents’ ‘types’.” “What happens when parents fail in these roles?” “The kids will look for affirmation in the streets. The girl will go about looking for a father to arm her in her boyfriends and the boy will do the same with his girlfriends.” “Did your parents play their roles as they should?” she asked with a knowing smile that she was overstepping her bounds. I obliged her and volunteered the answer she was looking for so I could bait her with it and ask the question I wanted to. “I wouldn’t say my parents played their roles well. If I were to rate them on a scale of one to ten, they would get one over ten.” “Are you kidding me?” “No, I am not pretty. They thought child upbringing was all about providing food, shelter, clothing and education. Whatever else we faced in life was our business.” “It is a pity your parents failed you in that aspect, handsome,” she said and put her hands around me. I almost shed a tear or two. It had been a long time since a girl showed that much interest in me. I didn’t know if to hug her back or not, so I asked a question. “Would I be invasive if I ask what made your last relationship fail?” “Hmmm…
Well you wouldn’t be. I guess I have gotten over the pains. He was my first love and I loved him like mad. He was the air I breathed. I was sixteen years when we met. He was perfect in my eyes and could do no wrong. He was a gentle man. I was a girl then and believed love could never hurt me…” “Love has never hurt a soul. It is people that hurt people,” I interjected. She looked at me like a deer hit with a flood light. I could tell a light-bulb had turned on in her head. “You know you are right! love has never hurt no one.” “Yeah, pretty love has never hurt a soul,” I emphasized. “I was afraid he would leave me if I did not give him sex. The fear of his leaving me made me grow thin in just weeks. So I decided to bring up the sex topic…” “How old was he?” I interjected again. “He was 24 and I was only sixteen.”