Life!

Hi guys! this is a short story written by my lovely sister and upcoming writer, Gbenga Oti. Enjoy! She would appreciate your kind thoughts too, there just might be a sequel.
……
I had waited so long for the day when I would walk down the aisle, with my arms locked into my fathers’ and my eyes set on the man I love. Everything was going as planned, the venue was booked and invitations were sent out.
He travelled for a business meeting. The meeting was successful, I was speaking to him as he was about to board a bus back to Germany, all of a sudden the line went dead and his mobile phone was switched off. I found this very strange as he never switches off his phone, maybe his battery died. An hour later, my mind went into overdrive, flooding itself with multiple scenarios of what could have happened, none of which were good.
The days that followed were tortuous; it is commonly said that “it’s better for someone to die than go missing”, then I understood, you grieve everyday hoping that they will return. I couldn’t sleep, eat or concentrate on my work. I contacted the Embassy and the police in Sweden; I got the standard reply “we are working on it”, this was really frustrating. I could not just sit around and do nothing, what if he had been kidnapped, but why wasn’t anyone calling for a ransom, was he dead? but NO that cannot be. A week later, my phone rang, it was HIM, he said he would be back and the line went dead. He was alive, that was good enough for me.
Then again, two weeks of silence, I could not contact him. I began to worry again; at this point the date of our wedding had passed by, my dream wedding was in shambles, my man nowhere to be found.
A month later, the embassy finally responded, he was arrested for paying for a bus ticket for some men he had just met over lunch. These men were illegal immigrants (unknown to him), his story was verified. I was so happy all this was over, and he would be back by weekend.
Or so I thought…

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Heart Over Head in Love

Disclaimer
This is a fictional story. The characters and plot are works of art. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
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I remember the first time i saw you, it was our first year of our journey as med students, and the first day of Physics practical. You were bald, clumsy and had an unserious look about you and I decided immediately that I didn’t like you because you didn’t fit into the in-my-head description of what my lab partner would be like, I remember telling my roommate the night before that I didn’t want a girl(I had had enough of girl drama in high school). I told her I wanted a boy, a smart one with a head for Physics who would do most of the work for the two of us and in the back of my not-so-romantic mind, would be my ‘The One’.

My number had already been called and yours was up next, but you were no where to be found, I kept shouting on the top of my voice “who’s no 56?”, until finally, you emerged, and quite arrogantly said, “I am”. I proceeded to give you a lecture about punctuality forgetting that I had only just met you, I told you my name and we entered the lab and were assigned to our workstation. I asked you if you had studied the theoretical aspect of the day’s work and you said you hadn’t, then I gave you yet another lecture about preparation, but by then you had had quite enough of my lectures, from the exasperated look on your face, I was already slightly irritated by you, because your lateness had us scrambling to finish in time.

Fast-forward to weeks after, I was late for the practical session that day and you called to ask why I wasn’t there yet and that was the beginning of our out-of-the-lab friendship. Then the long walks around campus, and phone conversations began. Although, you tried to hide it and till this day you deny it, by the next semester you were already head over heels in love with me, and after months of chasing and wooing I finally decided to your girlfriend.

You were my little big secret, and I told no one of our budding relationship. I remember our first kiss, we had been walking for about 30 mins and then we decided we were both tired, then we went to the park. We had been talking for a while and then you looked at me with those large sexy eyes and asked if you could but I don’t remember getting a word in.
We weren’t perfect, we didn’t have all the answers but we liked each other, the decision to date you wasn’t borne out of love, it was an impulsive ‘Yes’ that was counting on a relationship that would last a year at most. It didn’t occur to me that I could fall for you, the thought never even crossed my hard hearted macho mind, and I thought that at the first sign of trouble I could cut and run.

Then the worst happened, I fell in love with you.
When I found out a secret you had being keeping from me, I thought I could end it, afterall we had been dating for just a little over a year, but I couldn’t do it. You were unapologetic, and claimed that I probably wouldn’t have dated you if I had known earlier, you were right. Sometimes, ethnic and religious differences only strive to separate us and keep us apart. It’s been 4 years and several breakups after but I have never quite cut and run, I’m still here for reasons best left unsaid.

I’m a head over heart kinda girl except when it comes to you, my heart always seems to win the battle, and common sense no longer applies. I wonder what happened to quitting while we were still ahead, instead we seem to be saving the impending threat of a heartbreak for later.
Oh well! I’m a tough cookie.