I asked myself today why I’d never been a Valentine’s Day hype-girl. It’s weird to me because I’d been dealing with love, or at least my myopic perceptions of what love was at an early age. I had my first boyfriend when I was 14 and was involved in many love triangles even before then. I think that’s when I knew that I would have a lot coming for me relationship-wise. I was in so many entanglements and since it didn’t seem to affect my studies as I was still always at the top of my class, I didn’t prevent myself from getting involved in more.
This is why I’m surprised at how indifferent I’d always been towards Valentine’s Day. It was something I made very clear in high school that I wasn’t a fan of it and I didn’t want to be pressured by anyone. For one, I hated love letters. I usually cringed so hard at them because what do you mean by “...looking at your eyes brightens my heart cause they are like shimmering stars.” I’m sure 
Anyway, I remembered an incident that relates to this. After making my point clear to all and sundry that I wasn’t interested in anything Val-related that year and didn’t want to see love letters, I didn’t expect anything to come my way. To be honest, when I got home I began to think that I probably overreacted. And when I woke up on February 14, I became forlorn. Maybe I should have just accepted someone. I couldn’t believe that the whole day would be spent making dirty faces at the other lovebirds.
I got to school that day and of course, the class was filled with students exchanging "love-filled" glances at each other. When my friends kept getting dragged one after the other by their respective Vals, I acted nonchalant and instead jokingly told them not to choke on all the chocolate they’d be given, all the while swallowing the sadness that rose like bile in my throat.
When I was tired of all the love charades, I went to my friends and told them I was going home. They were too engrossed in whatever their partners were saying to give me more than perfunctory nodd and weak smiles so I walked back to where I kept my bag with a slouch. “No, Tessa. You’ll not cry cause of something you caused,” I kept telling myself.
When I got to where I kept my bag, I became immediately alert. Even back then I had this unconscious rule of keeping anything of mine in such a way that if someone nudged it even by an inch, I would know. My bag wasn’t how I kept it all and not just that, it seemed to be bulging at the sides. What was in it?? I walked steadily towards it and opened it to reveal three rose flowers(plastic, of course), a little teddy bear, a watch and a letter attached to it.
I remember that my heart was beating so fast and I had goosebumps on my skin. I picked up the letter with shaky hands and read it. Because this moment is still so dear to me even though it’s years ago, I remember a few lines in the long letter and it said, “...I know you hate love letters and I know you may not even want anything to do with me but I hope this makes you smile. Because you smiling means a lot to me.” The letter wasn’t signed so I didn’t know who it was from, but I cried a bit. And when the guy came out of wherever he’d been hiding, yours truly smiled. The biggest smile I had given anyone back then and hugged him too.
It was of course a silly teenage thing. But it meant a lot to me back then, and even more so because he saved me from a night of crying into my pillow. There was going to be a problem of explaining to my overprotective, typical African parents where I got such gifts and how whoever gave me got the money to get them because we were both supposed to be money-less students. But that’s a story for another day. Lol.
Really glad I got to journey down memory lane courtesy of the Ladies of Hive Community. Happy Valentine’s Day in advance, everyone.🌹
Jhymi🖤
Thumbnail created with NightCafe Studio.
Other image is a screenshot from my e-diary.
