THE IMPERFECT LOVER

To all the girls I have ever loved: I don’t really know because I was told that you only love deeply once in your lifetime. Weeks later, I am struck every time I re-read that piece. Seeing all the pain and hurt I caused every one of you and seeing all the monsters I have made has left me wondering, Was that really love? Did I actually ever love any of you? I don’t know, because if it was really a letter to my true love, why did I skip her? Why didn’t I write about you, Virginia? You are the core of it all, so why did I not even mention you anywhere? I guess I didn’t have the courage to even call out your name, Hunnie, probably because I was too ashamed—of my actions, of my instincts, of my mistakes. I was too ashamed to even talk about you. You were the first B I ever fumbled.

They told me that the first cut is the deepest; I brushed it off and said that they were just bluffing. I saw your look-alike today, and it made me relive that guilt over and over again. You were the only definition of my love. You liked me first without a single effort. We were only young, yes, but, babe, you made me experience something I doubt I’ll ever feel again. You were my home. You were my solace.

Moving into a new neighbourhood was not only tough but also scary. I had just ditched all my childhood memories and buddies like none of it mattered. I told dad that I hated that place because I had no single person to play with. A few weeks later, I managed to cross paths with you. An elder sister to my very first friend in this new phase. Wow! You were older, yes, but your pretty cute face with that smile said otherwise. Your face? It was the perfect art. Till now, I have convinced myself that I prefer them older, but who are my fooling, I have loved only you since then. I don’t like anything old, not even my old self, but you, Virginia; you were flawless. It took us months to finally get to say hello to each other, despite passing in front of your crib uncountable times trying to get you to notice me. You hesitated, but alas! You gave me a hint when I least expected it. That was probably the only sign I’ll ever pick from your kind. You loved to call me Derick instead, saying that it was better than what I was normally called at home, ‘Boy-boy’.

I recall when I first got your contact and every time we texted on 0.Facebook. It was sketchy, as I was trying to please and become friends with an older lady, but my heart had made its pick. I knew I wasn’t ever turning back. I kept going and going until I got to your heart. I lied to you, though, that we were in the same class, thus agemates, but I was only in love. Let alone these days where we are trying to relive everyone’s experiences. We were only naïve back then, never having experienced anything—the butterflies, the missing, the love. I’m glad I got to experience it firsthand with you, Virginia. Do I believe it was love? Oh yes. Babe, we texted on freaking SMS sometimes, until the morning on some days. Remember when we would sneak away from home to just meet and hug ourselves? Those poor-quality itel pictures were just as perfect back then. They were real. You always kept me up late nights because I couldn’t dare go to bed before you, scared that they would steal my girl. You were an angel. It was only young love, yes, but did I ever get to re-experience that again? No. You were it, and that was it. I lost you. I lost it.

I was always the soft one for everyone. Everybody knew that. But when I first met you, I knew we would click because you were softer. You never shouted, let alone talked. You literally only spoke with your picture-perfect smiles. I hardly recall your face because you were always the shy one; you never looked me in the eye intentionally. You preferred to steal glimpses, and I always noticed when you were looking at me, but I chose not to disrupt so I could let you continue to blush at me. Till now, I still ask myself, What did I like about you? I don’t know, because I loved you, Virginia. I loved you wholly. I loved every inch of you—your personality, your mind, and your beauty. I loved you, Virginia. You always wore my favorite Kitenge dress every time you sneaked from home to meet up. You always broke the rules for me. It was finely mutual because I broke literally every rule there was to always meet my love and to always give you my strict time.

Where did it all go wrong? Why? It was me, right? I messed up, I know. I had finally started to hit it off in high school; it got to my head that I probably deserved something better. I was finally being noticed, or confused? I don’t know, but the bottom line is that I let them get to my head. I let them replace you gradually. What a fool! We were always at school; we only met on holidays, but that is no excuse because I loved you and you loved me right back. For two good years, we were alright, girl; you had all of me intact. I scribbled down your name, Allen Blainz, behind all my notes during night preps. It became my first email password for years to come. It took a lot of courage to finally change it. Whenever I got overwhelmed at school, I always took time off to just design your names. It always kept me sane.

I just woke up one day and convinced myself that I was better and that I was deserving of someone better. I made you cry, baby. I made you lose hope in purity, in trust, in love. That better someone took me for a ride; she broke me like she was doing you a solid, like Karma had fallen for me. Your whole family hated me afterwards; they always looked at me like I was some sort of monster. I was, true. You deserved someone better, you know, someone who wouldn’t have ghosted you and told you that he never really loved you. That was a lie. I loved you beyond the stars, but I wanted you gone from my story. I had to rewrite that harsh script to kill you. I wanted to free myself from you, but I was only chasing the wind, thinking I had outgrown you. I’m sorry, and I still regret every one of those words I told you. Till today, I didn’t have the courage to face you because I didn’t think I would even look up at your face.

When I lost my dad, you still gave me a shoulder, despite what I had done to you. You have the heart of an angel, and I meant it every time I called you my angel. You never once took it to heart that I had hurt you. You even took me back, like I was the prodigal son. I came back and left again; I was looking for healing. I came back hoping you would turn me down, Virginia; you didn’t. Only this time, you were numb. You didn’t have that cute smile anymore, that sparkle in your eyes; they appeared like tears every time you looked at me, more like a serial killer waiting for the right moment. I hurt you twice. You were the first monster I made, I always thought. But no, you still had it in you. You were always there for me whenever I was low; you even came around even though you were dating someone else. Why were you so good to me? You guilt-tripped me, love. I had to leave you forever to not feel like a beast for the rest of my life. I pushed you away until you eventually called me immature and shut me out for eternity.

And now? I wonder what could have become of us if we had met when we were a little older. Like today, you know, would you still love me the same? Would you still shy away every time I looked at you? Or are you bolder now? Because I won’t lie to you, I would still sneak out of my own place to meet up with you. I would still call you up late at night to just hear your sweet voice. Things are better now, but I would still text you a few SMSs on my happy days. I would probably buy you many more of your favourite dresses. I would dress you to my, to your, and to our taste. You know I can tailor too now; I would make you all those skimpy kitenge designs that I, that you loved. I would never tell you that I never loved you. I would give you the whole of me without reserving a bit for Karma. I would still kiss you like a chef, and I would never leave again. These are only the lamentations of a broken boy, one trying to seek healing. A boy trying to outrun his guilt and clear his head. These are the words of The Imperfect Lover.