After All This…
I’ve always been an inquisitive child, taught and learnt how to differentiate right from wrong at an early age.
Growing up as an only daughter, I was loved and attended to by everyone. Guys were a norm for me with seven brothers, an overprotective but kind father, ten male cousins and several uncles, some of which I don’t even know how we are related. Ok, enough about my family.
As an average heighted girl, fair skinned, long black hair, white eyes, cute big black eyes, just glossy enough to catch your attention, white teeth, I was a beauty. I started to catch the attention of the opposite sex as early as the age of 13, not that I paid any attention to it. I was a bit of a bookworm you see.
With an Engineer guru as a father, the best in his Company; an English enigma for a mother, the best in the state; and brothers that were winning awards and making the family proud, I couldn’t be left out. I know what you are thinking, this is a 19’s story of an old woman. No, this is just the short tale of a 30 year old woman that has 2 months to live.
Although I never won any awards, or came first in any Exams, or even studied a professional course (I’m just an Artist), my father never called me out or made me feel like a disappointment. My mother on the other hand is something of a disciplinarian, maybe because she’s a teacher, at least that’s what I told myself anytime she locked me in a room to “correct” me. And by correct I mean beautiful lashes that you will still feel it’s pain even after 2 weeks.
I won’t say I was stubborn, but I could never be bullied by my 7 elder brothers or by anyone for that matter. Understand me, I am very shy; you can even say overly timid when I’m outside but with my family, let’s just say I have been called a wild lion upon occasion. There is nothing and no one I don’t fight. And then I met him.
Did I mention I am a bookworm? I entered high school at the age of 13. He was also 13 (I knew this during prom night) but he was as tall as the other 16 year olds in the class at 5”2 feet. He was my desk mate. It was not the first time I had a boy as a desk mate, I’ve always gone to a mixed school unlike most of my friends that went to an all-girls school for junior high. He also went to an all-boys school for junior high.
Both of us were new students in a new school in a new environment. It was not love at first sight, neither was he very kind to me. On the contrary, it was hate at first sight. Hate on his part, indifference on mine.
You see even though I was beautiful, I didn’t know or acknowledge it. How? In my previous school, sassy and stuck up girls were the in-thing. Girls that probably had their first kiss at 9 and were not ashamed to say it; Girls that were in the top ten, with big boobs (there are some beautiful girls that are really attractive, contrary to popular belief); Girls that didn’t even date their fellow classmates but senior students.
As you’ve probably guessed, I was not in any of these categories. I was more of the go-to-class-go-home-immediately-to-avoid-anyone-and-to avoid-insult-and-embarrassment-kind of girl. It’s not like I did not try to join them, of course I tried. No one likes being lonely or being left out. But the few times I tried to associate, I found myself doing stupid things and lying, just to belong to the big girls group.
I eventually stopped or rather, gave up because I found out that they would never accept me, I was probably just like a pathetic clown to them. Back to the guy. Because of my past experience in my previous school, I made up my mind not to give a damn what people thought of me, or even try to be friendly.
Sometimes I wondered whether it was because of my quietness, attitude or the irony of life in general, my new school mates wanted to befriend me. Up till now I still can’t understand it. The guy included.
Our meeting was a rather strange one. I came late so all the seats had already been taken, I had to sit at the back, his seat. Of course I did not know at the time, He did not come to school that day or week for that matter. As for me, I was already thanking God, celebrating and jubilating in my mind: no seat partner meaning no one to talk to, no one to talk to me, hence, I can be alone in peace without the awkwardness.
So you can imagine my shock, disappointment, anxiety and mostly anger when I saw or heard, as I don’t look up when someone is talking, a boy telling me to get up from his seat. At first I ignored him. Him, probably not used to being ignored, shouted louder and even bent to my face level (I was sitting), “Get up, you’re in my seat”. Now it should be noted that even though I’m very shy, can’t talk in front of a crowd, I am also very proud.
I looked up, already annoyed, and said softly, “The teacher asked me to sit here”, not caring if he heard me. “I don’t care, go find somewhere else to seat”, surprisingly he heard. My anger was already at its peak because first, he didn’t even say ‘please’. Secondly, just sit inside asshole and stop calling everyone’s attention. Another guy, very fat, (I’ll learn later that they’re actually best friends) patted him and told him to just sit beside me as it was really the homeroom teacher that put me there.
And this, dear readers, is where our story begins.
As the months went by, I found out that I really did hate having a seatmate after all. He never brought his textbooks or anything for that matter. I had to share my textbook, pencil, ruler, eraser and even calculator. You’re probably thinking I took all these quietly and tolerated him as I was very shy. Actually, with him, I was unexpectedly really vocal. I always told him he was an idiot, a pain in the ass, a penniless ugly thing who could not afford anything.
I even remember asking him on one occasion if he has parents. You can say I treated him like my brothers. I don’t need to say how unusual this was for me but with him, I felt free. Annoyed, frustrated most of the time, but free. I could be myself. Till today I don’t know why. What made this really strange was that all my other classmates were afraid of him. He never talked to any girl in the class apart from me.
Even though we mostly argued and insulted each other, I was literally the envy of all the other girls. As the semester progressed, we started having more conversations than arguments. I learnt it was due to his stubbornness in his previous school his Mum made him change schools. Also he never really got along with his father. He’s the quiet but deadly type, you see. He doesn’t talk much but his presence demands your attention and respect.
He had this roguishly handsome look to him, and a complete hatred for rules and proud girls. Maybe that’s why he was attracted to me, but only for a short while. We never agreed on anything, not even the shade of pencil to use to draw during biology class. But no matter how much we argued, or fought, He always supported me.
I remember one day he even went as far as taking my punishment for me. I did not go for the daily morning assembly so I was asked to kneel throughout first and second period. After that, I was to be caned publicly to set an example to other students. I was surprised, and not a little touched, when he came out to take the cane for me. I was not the only one that was shocked, the whole school was like a graveyard. It was the first time that had happened, you see. It was probably from that day my feelings for him began to change.
It was a day like any other day. We had become so popular that the whole school, even teachers, labelled us as the class couple. We weren’t of course. It was just that, most girls admired him and wanted to talk to him but couldn’t, I could. Most guys wanted to eat with me, read with me and seat close to me but they couldn’t, he could. So you can say we were each the envy of everyone.
It’s not that I did not relate with other guys, I mean come on, I was finally getting the popularity I so richly deserve, but I loved giving him the power, the prestige that he was the only one.
This particular day, he came late. I was supposed to sweep but I had become so popular that I felt sweeping the class was beneath me. He came in and as usual, I was expecting him to come and meet me, and I’ll tease him to hug me or at least give me a peck. But he went straight to our seat. I stood up from the table I was seating and went to sit beside him, hoping he’ll talk to me first or play with my hair as he loves doing.
He didn’t even so much as smile talk less of look at me. I was already feeling a little bit angry (I did not know I loved him then). The next thing I heard was, “who left a coke can here and an empty gala wrap?” knowing fully well it was me, and I’m supposed to be sweeping. I ignored him ’cause I thought, “Who’s he talking to with that kind of tone”. He repeated the question again, this time louder to my face.
I, already annoyed and a little bit disappointed, replied him in what I call my most condescending voice ever, “who’re you asking? Take out the trash yourself if you don’t like it”. Whether it’s because of my tone, the atmosphere, or the situation itself, all I heard was “Gba!!!”. Take note, I had never been hit by a guy before, never. Only my Mum. It took me several seconds to realize my hand was on my cheek, He slapped me.
I remember the only thing ringing in my head was, “he slapped me, he SLAPPED me, he SLAPPED ME, HE SLAPPED ME”. With each repetition, my anger, shame, shock, but most of all, the feeling of hurt was rising. I remember some of the girls that liked him snickering as I ran out of the class. I remember him calling my name but it was so faint in my head, I felt like I imagined it. All I could hear was my own embarrassment.
I did not come back for the rest of the day, I went home from there. I could not face the class you see. Little did I know it’s the school I had to face, the news had already spread round in my absence. The next day, my dad was surprised, and not a little worried, it was the first time I said I don’t want to go to school. Even when I’m sick, I hate staying home, all by myself.
After many enquiries and tests and making sure I was very fine, physically and mentally, my Mum was the one that “bundled” me and took me to school. Why wasn’t the next day a Saturday? I got to school, he was already at our seat waiting for me.
That day, I knew I had a vengeful and unforgiving heart. I went to the seat, braving through the murmurs and whispers. Immediately I sat down, I heard I’m sorry. “Really? REALLY? After disgracing me in front of the whole school?” “I’m sorry”, this time while holding my hands. I yanked it away of course, and just plain ignored him. Childish now that I think about it.
He stayed on his own after the first two periods being ignored. I think that angered me more. The next day, I moved to another seat. Two weeks had passed and the school’s favourite couple weren’t even so much as greeting each other anymore. That was how everything changed.
The few months till we sat for our common entrance exam, we only said like fifty words to each other. Then prom night happened. I was not even feeling it. The only guy I wanted to be my date, I could not bring myself to forgive him. He asked, I said no. My heart felt like it had been under a heavy rock for months. I think I only attended because my Mum threatened to make my life miserable if I didn’t go.
I went, refused to dance, refused to drink and then I heard a song “Please forgive me I can’t stop loving you”. Everything was like in slow motion. I understood for the first time, why in Disney movies, you hear a twinkling sound, like the stars are shining and no other person is there apart from just you two. Not the cheers, not the hoots, not clapping, nothing could take my eyes off him at that moment.
I don’t know how long he sang for, then he walked straight to me, knelt and said, “Liz, I’m sorry. I know what I did was unforgivable, but I swear to you, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and will ever love. I know we’re graduating soon, but please, I can’t graduate knowing you hate me. I’m sorry. Please Liz, Please. ” Of course everyone started chanting “”kiss, Kiss, Kiss”. We didn’t, teachers were there.
It did not happen as you are thinking, I’m the kind of person that can hurt my own heart because of pride. I walked out, just left him kneeling there. I don’t know how I got home that day, I think I ran but it was about 30 miles so my Mum probably picked me up. Nothing exciting happened after that, I thought he’d given up. But I guess life wasn’t done with us yet.
Then we went to college. Nature has a way with these things, I entered school before him and from there, we lost contact. I also graduated before him. I dated a few guys, never serious, I never really loved any. I heard about his stories, He had his fair share of girlfriends. And then came time for jobs. I decided to tour the world after graduation, see life before I finally marry. He was still in school. But like I said life wasn’t done with us.
I was now 25. I went to the bank, like any other day to withdraw money. The line for the ATM was really long, since I’m too shy to cut, I joined the queue. After about 30 minutes of waiting, a guy suddenly comes with a really fancy ride and walked all the way to the front.
The sun was scorching, I couldn’t really see his face, he had grown taller. Normally, I would allow it to pass but I had been waiting for what felt like ten hours and a guy just suddenly comes from nowhere to cut the line. “Who the hell does he think he is?” So I turned to give him a piece of my mind and that’s when I froze. I don’t think he was expecting it to be me. To the world, we were probably insane.
In front of a long queue, two people were standing there, ignoring the shouts by the angry tired people, and just staring at each other. In truth I couldn’t hear them over the sound of my own heartbeat. “It’s him, It’s him, It’s actually him” was all I kept on thinking. After what seemed like ages, the other customers had long since bypassed us to get to the machine, he uttered one word, “Liz”.
Till today, I don’t know if it’s the sun, or the loud beating of my heart, or pent up regret from prom night, or the fact I could not bring myself to love any other guy throughout the 5 years of college, or the way he called my name. I don’t know what it was. When I realized myself, my lips were on his, my hands at the back of his head, and my body was pressed so snugly to his. I didn’t stop. By the time he pulled me away (I registered this later), there were tears in my eyes.
He said my name again, this time in shock, and a little breathless (he kissed me back), “Liz”. This time even more softly. I looked up at him, and instead of “I miss you”, what came out was, “I’m sorry”. I’m sure you can already imagine the rest of the story from there. (my hands are already sore).
Now, as I write this, my birthday is tomorrow night, He’s planning a surprise for me, I’m probably going to finally lose my v-card tomorrow. He doesn’t know, I told him I had lots of boyfriends so as not to seem lame. I’m also going to tell him the big news tomorrow and break up with him. I know, I’m selfish but for once, just this once, I want to be selfish.
No one asked me if I wanted to be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, no one asked me if I wanted to see my children and play with my grandchildren, No one asked me if I enjoy seeing my father cry, knowing he’s going to be burying his daughter in a few months, no one asked me if I wanted to get married, and actually have a family, No one. Not the world. Not life and certainly not God.
So for this once, I want to do something I want. It’s cruel to him, I know but this once, just this once I want to be happy. I want to feel. I want to live. I love him, I want to bear his children, but I guess we were never meant to be. Sometimes I wonder whether it was his misfortune to have met me. But if I could do all this again, I will still choose to have met him.
Nowadays I find myself praying, not for car, house, wealth or title, I just want to spend my life with him. This night, right now, after all the long story, from when we met till now, after all this, I still want him to love me. It might be heartless of me but I want to spend my life with him.
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