This is Where We Come to an End

Everything you thought you knew today, when the day fades, they all fade away.

I remembered calling you on phone at the end of each day, and how your guitar stringed Adel’s voice greeted me, always asking about my day and how I fared. Those questions weren’t just a regular greeting to you, as you always insisted that I gave you a detailed gist of how I spent the day. And each day I narrated how stressful my day was, and how I got tired doing a particular thing, you always told me with such soothing voice that stress and hard work were just ingredients of success, and I shouldn’t get tired trying, as the number of times I tried and failed before succeeding would inspire someone one day.

You came down occasionally, and we hung out every time I was not busy with work. For some reasons you never told me why you preferred Parks, Cinemas and River banks to restaurants and malls. I didn’t mind any way as we had quality time, but the more we hung out I guessed you preferred these places because they were the only places we could be locked in the solitary of love, just the both of us.

I remember you holding me tight by the river bank, as we sat silently and watched the fishes swim freely. It was a tourist site we had visited in Calabar, but for all the interesting places we could have visited, you chose this particular river bank, and we were the only ones there at that time.

I remember telling you how hard things were getting both in school and at work; I remember your silence after I had narrated one of my problems to you. For more than thirty seconds you stared into my eyes before parting those lips to smile, and kissing me on the cheek you told me that everything would be alright.

I tried not being selfish and asked you if you were alright, Of course, as usual you gave me that pleasant smile that conspicuously exposed the depth of your dimples, and the brightness of your set of close-up white teeth. You gave me that kind of smile that was big and cute enough to hide every wrong, just like the one Buhari gave us while he was canvassing for votes; the one we stopped seeing the moment he started belonging to everyone and no one simultaneously.

*****

Somehow along the line I made a mistake that I would forever live to remember. In April, your best friend Xennia visited my school for a conference or something else I can’t really recall. We had hung out together with her a couple of times when I visited you, and I was happy you had such a nice girl as your best friend. For some reasons she was stranded and had nowhere to stay for the 5 days she would stay in Awka, since she had misplaced her purse that contained her budget at the airport, a hotel was not an option. As expected, the first person to call in such scenario would be a best friend, and she called you. Out of your trust and sincerity of heart, you told her to chill and called me, you knew there was no way to let you down, you believe so much in yourself that I was never going to say No.

Unfortunately, I didn’t pick when you called, you were getting disturbed, but out of the same love and trust you advised your friend to visit my place, but she was to stay close to my place until I approved of her coming. Finally, I picked up, and just like expected I approved of her staying with me for the 5 days. We were mutual friends, and even when I suggested she stayed with a female friend, you insisted she stayed with me, that was the height of your love and trust.

Then I broke the trust, for some reasons I cannot yet explain we had sex on her second night, we had attended a friend’s party together and tasting alcohol together in that party was probably the wrong choice we made, as we ended up in bed frolicking. It was an avoidable mistake, but it stopped being a mistake the moment we repeated it the next night, after dwelling in our guilt of the previous night, and just like the second night, we had different rounds of romp and full blown sex until she left Awka on the sixth day. I still cannot fathom how it all happened. I remember how long I lived in that guilt.

Months later, when I could no longer handle the guilt anymore, because I felt you were so good to deserve such impeccable act from me, and worse if I never told you. I opened up to you when you visited, and in that moment I watched your dimples as they immediately formed back to a smooth surface, your smile disappeared and I watched you cry. It all happened in moments, the tears ran freely. And to my greatest dismay, you still allowed me to cuddle you, I placed your head on my left shoulder and you cried freely. I was so touched that I couldn’t help joining you in the chorus of tears, together we cried for some minutes before retiring to bed without any more word from any of us. You left the next morning, and although you didn’t speak to me at home all the while you prepared, you assured me when we got to the park that we were still together.

“I may have forgiven you, but you should understand if I don’t forget this, and if nothing returns to normal as before. I am glad you told me, and I hope that you telling me was enough courage that showed how remorseful you are.” You ended those words with a peck on my cheek, and then for the first time since I told you about my guilt, your dimples showed again, and those smiles radiated.

How would I have known that that was the beginning of our end, you arrived safely and called to inform me, we did not talk for long because you did not want to, and that was the last time we actually talked. Henceforth you stopped picking or returning my calls. For weeks I tried reaching you to no avail, not even your best friend could reach you. It got to a point that your lines became unreachable. I sent tons of messages to your line hoping that if it eventually comes up, you would read and call back, but all the messages returned undelivered. I was beginning to lose focus in school and at work, but somehow it didn’t just matter, what mattered then was just your smile, and your voice assuring me that you were still alright.

One day, after one of my lectures, I had checked my phone, which was on silent mode to realise that I had missed your calls four times. I immediately called back to realise your phone was switched off again. For the next three days, I called but your lines were still switched off.

A week later, I returned from my usual Saturday morning workout at the gym and I met your text. It was simple, but the simpler it was seemed to prove more difficult to understand.

“I AM DYING” those were the words on my screen. Again I called your line and it was switched off. That moment, I went mad, you were dying, and I couldn’t understand that, and cannot reach you also. It was more than I could take. I boarded the next bus to Abuja the next morning, hoping that somehow I could find you, at least before you died.

*****

I did find you, and really you were dying, the Doctor had explained to me, how you had battled with Sickle Cell Disorder, and how you had been hit by a huge crisis that started after you returned from Awka, he didn’t see you surviving this one.

I felt my feet cave in, and I collapsed on my knees. How could I have dated you for months and not get to know that you had Anaemia HbSS, and all the while you smiled and said you were alright. How insensitive and selfish was I that I always bothered you with my problems but never cared so much about you.

You were there, but not in the spot where I had expected to see you, not in the state of health and strength of which your last visit had given promise.

I remembered sitting close to your bed, watching you smile weakly, even in that discomfort situation you still smiled, but now they can no longer deceive me, I know better. The Doctor told me you have had several blood transfusion since you were admitted into the ICU of the specialist Hospital at Kubwa, and you may need more soon. I volunteered and luckily we were a match, and I was so happy that my blood could keep you alive at least for the three days it did before you finally gave up on me.

You apologised for not telling me all these while, you didn’t want me to start seeing you as weakling who could not help herself, that feeling of pity, you told me killed more than the disorder itself. You also said you forgave me for my mistake, and wished you could spend more time with me, but you died the next morning, and that was where we came to an end.

*****

Too bad, I am writing this for someone who would never see or read it, but somehow I know you would still want me to publish this story that have lingered for some years, and like you would always say, it would inspire someone.

Somehow it has inspired me, to join a group of young heads who are planning a Charity week, and like Mum told me, it was the kind of projects you undertook before you became late. I am glad that I could tow this Path.

#AugustusBill