Once Upon a Valentine

“You get to play with dolls, and play house, and pick out Ken for Barbie… You’ve been playing with romance… So your idea of the relationship is built around what you imagined [in] those Harlequin novels.”

~ T.D. Jakes ~

Once upon a time, I was exactly like the little girl that T.D. Jakes describes. Once upon a time I used to write at least one story a week; everyone could predict that the theme would be ‘love’. My portfolio was filled with: the story about the high school couple, the anecdote of the Journalist and Italian bae, the tale of the basketball players, and just about seventy-seven fictional narratives of girl-meets-boy-on-Valentine’s-Day. Once upon a Valentine, all the whimsical stories on my note pads came to life hastily like Cupid wanted me to have a taste of my own tales.

14^th February 2011. The setting in the school hall wasn’t as romantic as it would have been in my stories, but the mood was just right. Outside, the tiffany blue sky was furnished with stratus clouds. As the wind gracefully blew, the school hall doors were forced open and the sun’s rays rushed onto him like movie lights would onto a main character. I kid’ you not, his entire physic was exactly like every male main character I had ever written about. He was tall and angular, broad shouldered with a head full of wavy hair, and smooth skin that resembled a blended mixture of caramel and milk chocolate. He had a drop-dead gorgeous face, with voluptuous African lips, slender eyes whose beauty were accentuated by long luscious lashes and perfectly shaped eye brows. Let me tell you: homeboy was finer than fine!

“Hi” turned into conversation and the revelation of: his ambition, love for basketball, and poetry. He spoke with a twang, but even the swish-swash of his tongue could not drag my attention from the piercing look his eyes enticed me with. He was intelligent; I could tell. He was passionate and ambitious and funny and wow!

I fell for him the way you fall asleep; slowly and then all at once. I would have never guessed that a day that was set to merely host a debate competition between eight schools would turn into the day I would find pre-love and friendship wrapped in one human being.

The next couple of hours, days and months were filled with me reciting what happened that out-of-a-story-book day. Once upon a Valentine, he spoke and I was reminded of Solomon’s wisdom. Once upon a Valentine, he led me away from the crowd to speak with me privately and I was reminded of Moses. His ambition and inspiration reminded me of Paul. But when that Valentine’s Day passed, his ability to love selflessly reminded me of my mother.

My love for him feels like the Zambezi; flowing naturally and unleashing a sense of serenity and serendipity. On other days our love feels like a storm has broken loose, or like the Zambezi has reached the edge of the Mosi-oa-Tunya (Victoria Falls) and is gashing with force. On those days, you can see the storm that thunders in our anger. Other days are like the falls in October; dry and like a hopeless sight for our electric connection. But all things considered, our love is: nurturing, comfortable, safe, and a harbour of fearlessness. He is my home; the four chambers of his heart are where I feel most understood.

Needless to say: I am utterly grateful for the journey so far. I appreciate the hills and valleys, the laughs and lamentations, the greatest friend and most patient listener. If I was given a chance to go back into the past and choose someone to go through the happiness and hurdles with, I would still choose him. Ultimately, I am grateful to God for perfectly orchestrating my once upon a Valentine.