Chuka had heard of love like it was a fairy tale, but now it was more than that—it was a reality. From the moment she stepped into the classroom, it felt like he had experienced love in his previous life. It was something—maybe her laughter, her smile, her beauty, or perhaps her soul—he couldn't just lay his fingers on it.
Her hair was long, flowing over her shoulders, her face so pretty it felt unreal, like a Disney cartoon character.
He had read books on love, especially those of Shakespeare’s—“a true craftsman of emotions,” he’d always say.
Love, they say, is like two sides of a coin, both parties work in tandem. but he was the only one on a side of the coin while the other side remained empty
“You’ve wasted a lot of time on her. I think it’s time to let go,” his friend Chudi said at a café, Fork n Fingers, their favorite meal spot.
“I know, but I just can’t help it. Her voice feels like a safe haven, and her smile?” He paused. “Gosh, they pull me in so bad.”
“Stop reading those Shakespeare novels, you’re getting crazy.”
Chuka laughed. “I’m not crazy, Chudi.”
“Well, you’re not, but when she settles with another guy, you definitely will,” Chudi replied while stuffing large chunks of chicken into his mouth. No other restaurant made chicken the way they did.
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“I’d rather die trying than die in regret,” Chuka softly whispered to his own hearing.
Chudi heard it but kept quiet. His friend wasn’t—he isn’t in his clear state of mind, he cursed under his breath.
Time passed, and Chuka wrote letters and love poems, all inspired by Shakespeare. He hoped for a response, but his heart shattered each time as he got silence in reply.
“Maybe it’s because I’m still a student. Maybe I’m not worth it. Maybe…” He kept quiet for a moment as the words of Chudi struck him like lightning. “A lady loves a man who is able to provide and protect. Can you?”
He reflected for a while and made a resolve. He travelled, worked hard, tried to earn some cash for himself while managing his academics simultaneously.
Some female classmates of his often complimented him on his dressing. He got enough money to change his looks, take care of himself, and send back to his aged dad, who didn’t have the youthful strength to farm anymore.
He realized something—his mind was off Ada for a while. She wasn’t his do-or-die affair any longer. He could breathe fine without his heart skipping at the slightest thought of her.
Time slowly went by. He graduated from college and worked at a national oil company in Abuja, Nigeria. It was a cold evening at work. He was at the exterior of the factory, enjoying nature’s cool before tending to his duties when he got a text from Chudi:
“Hey, remember Ada? Your babe—sorry, your crush back in school? She’s asking for your number.”
Chuka wore a smile on his face. He felt an inexplicable spark in his heart, but this time it wasn’t love—it was fulfilment. It wasn’t the first time a girl would be asking for his number, but the fact that it was Ada, the girl who ignored his feelings, made him more than excited.
He worked that day with a smile on his face. He had given Chudi the go-ahead to release his number, and Ada had reached out shortly after so they could have dinner the next evening.
They sat at a café—his favorite, of course—Fork n Fingers. The setting had changed. It smelt like strawberries, with the aroma of perfectly grilled chicken and jollof rice flowing in the air.
“Ummm…” she started, pulling Chuka’s attention away from the aesthetics of the once mediocre restaurant to her.
The table was round, with a red drape covering it. They sat across each other underneath the cool air conditioner that had made Chuka start to shiver.
“Chuka,” she continued.
“Ada,” he replied, his eyes searching hers, trying to see if he could get an answer from her before she continued even further.
“I know I was cold to you back then, but over the years I found out that true love is hard to find these days. I really do like—”
“I know, I know,” he gestured with his hands, signalling for her to stop.
“I really did like you—”
“Did?” she cut in. Her eyes lay bare in surprise, as though she was expecting a different answer.
“Relax, let me finish.”
Her eyes became teary, but he couldn’t tell if it was tears of regret, rejection, or the fact that she couldn’t get him to feel emotions like she did then in college.
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t. Time heals, and I’m fully over it. We can be really great friends, though.”
“Wait, I can make this up,” she said, reaching for his face. His hand held hers as he stared into her teary eyes, remembering his unread letters, wasted nights spent cramming Shakespeare’s poems so he could impress her the following day—his sleepless nights.
But no, he couldn’t just feel what he did back then. Perhaps love was dependent on time—who knows? he thought to himself.
He let her hands go, stood up, and straightened his jacket. “If you need anything, call me. I’ll definitely assist you.” He then gently placed his hands on her shoulders and calmly walked out.
Sometimes love is about letting go. And the only love worthy of you is the one worth waiting for—a line he heard from a movie scene.
He wished in his heart things had turned out different as he stepped out, but this thought lasted only for a while, as silence was the next thing he listened to. Ravens cried over the empty streets as the thud of his shoes echoed.
Maybe there would be a next time, but for now, he had made a decision.