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Matured Stories

Love In The Middle Of Nowhere – Season 1 – [Episode 1 – 3]

Love In The Middle Of Nowhere

Love In The Middle Of Nowhere

He said hello and I said hi.

That was the first day. He said, “Good to meet you here.” But I didn’t respond to that one because guys who usually slide into my DM are nothing short of a waste of time. The next day he said, “What you said in there is true but I don’t know why everyone is on your case.” I responded, “Sorry, what did I say in where?” He responded, What you wrote in the group’s timeline.” I responded, “Oh, you are in that group too?”

Conversations started.

Each day, he passed by my inbox to say or ask something. I was gracious enough to engage him whenever he came around. From the conversations and discussions we had, I could tell he was a deep fellow. He could speak from a perspective I’ve never thought of. I loved his mind. He was considerate in his assertions and he was humble to admit it when he was wrong.

I liked him. Actually, I love people who are able to meet me at the cross-point of intellectual discussions. We swayed from talking about the things that happened in the group. We talked about books we’ve read and surprisingly, he had read a lot of books I’ve read and he agreed with me on major controversial subjects. He for my contact and I didn’t think twice about it. He said, “Oh, you’re not in Ghana?” I told him, “I’m a Kenyan and live in Kenya.” He said, “But your name doesn’t sound like Kenyan.” I responded, “That isn’t my real name.”

So we moved our conversations from Facebook Messenger to Whatsapp. Few times he called on the phone and a few times we had a video call. He was a charmer. The kind of brainpower he has and the way he goes about issues made me dropped down my defenses. The day he proposed I told him, “But you don’t even know me.” He responded, “If knowing someone means seeing or meeting them physically then yeah I don’t know you but if it takes conversation and spending time with someone to know them, then dear, I know you.”

That’s cute and that’s true.

I asked him, “You are in Ghana. I’m in Kenya. How do we make this work?” He answered, “When we are too sure about each other, I can come around or you can come around. We can decide on who moves to where later when we are ready to make things permanent.” This guy never said things wrong. He had the future in mind whenever we spoke about us. I loved it. I loved him so I said yes.

That night he called me on a video with champaign in his hands. He said, “Let’s celebrate this. Go and get yourself a glass.” I got a wine glass and sat in front of my screen watching him wax beautiful lyrics of our love and the beautiful future the two of us were going to have. He poured himself some champaign and told me to lower my glass and get some. It was funny and it was sexy. He said, “Just imagine you have a drink in your glass and let’s cheer to our future.”

I lifted my glass up and he did the same. We both screamed, “Cheers” while tipping our glasses toward our screens to meet each other. He drunk his champaign and I sucked the air in my glass. It’s one of the beautiful imaginary stuff I’ve ever done. Life was imaginary. Love was made and consumed in our fantasies. For once, fantasy wasn’t for that kid who wanted wings to fly or wanted to be a cinderella and dance with the prince. Fantasy was for us two—two mature adults who should have nothing to do with that.

We were ok and love between us kept growing and growing.

I’m not a kid when it comes to love and matters of the heart. I had my first relationship when I was barely seventeen. At twenty-nine, I’ve nursed three crazy broken hearts that nearly drove me insane and there have been some guys who came and left without a trace. I know what is it to love and to hurt and to break down. I got to a point where I had to build steel walls around my heart because it needed saving. Love and relationship aren’t new to me but this one was different. And its excitement came from the fact that it deviated from the stories of all the love I’ve been in.

T.B.C

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