Alone in a crowded room, with so much going on still all I am aware of are the thoughts in my head as I stand at the airport lounge waiting… For God knows what.
I hope I can make sense of all this. Why do I stand here in a crowded place with an out of body experience? And what is this fear deep in the pit of my belly as I await the arrival of a loved one.
In the background, I hear a casual/familiar voice call out my name in a way I’m so used to “Amanda”, somewhat distant or so I imagine.
I motion to respond but discover I make my way towards the exit. I back away, away from the madness and unmistakable quietness, this is all too confusing.
The battle to stay grounded, as I fail the contest between my feet and head, to steady my feet against the cold feel of concrete I have suddenly become aware of. I want to respond to my name being echoed but I find I can’t.
I seem like I’m floating with the same careless abandon displayed by butterflies only this time I feel restricted by a cocoon. Just as I make my way out of the door a forceful wave of the cold evening breeze hits me and I flinch.
The summer had sifted in; a pleasant surprise. I pounced out of bed, spring in foot, humming “I put your picture away”, as I make my way across the hall to the kitchen where a nice hot pot of coffee had just been freshly brewed. He had been sweet enough to set it up before leaving the flat that morning.
Early morning coffee has its way of aiding clarity; although I was presently devoid of foggy thoughts. My mind was an empty canvas, one I dreamed an artist would paint on as I teased my olfactory nerves before I took a sip.
A rustle at the front door announced the mailman. Dressed in nothing but a t-shirt I had acquired a few months ago after a sleep-over at his because he wouldn’t let me go back to my flat. His place had gradually become my hideout.
Mail in hand, his stash drawer strategically fitted into the mahogany kitchen worktop that doubled as a coffee haven and sometimes as a firm support when we decided to get creative.
I sought to stash the fresh mails, for which I had been left a strategically placed post-it note reminder. He had been summoned to HQ at the die minute, and had to rush off as though responding to the rude disruption a fire alarm raises.
I was all alone in the flat yet I didn’t mind, this meant I could dance around naked without a care in the world or having to worry about exciting and pacifying him. Thankfully it was summer and the weather was on course.
I was not looking for it but I had found it. It was a pale shade of yellow, it had somehow mastered the game of peek-a-boo as it subtly hinted its presence but still managed to stay largely hidden. I tried to ignore it, but something about the colour got my full attention now.
He thought we were ready, he must have thought I was ready. I only walked into that store with him a fortnight ago because I wanted a customised piece to match the earrings I had just recently purchased.
Days passed, conversation got heavy; fewer words, light batter, the distance crept in…
“Meet me at the Airport”, he had said. Knowing what I knew I made excuses but he had insisted meeting him was important.
He was the romantic-go-all-out kind of man, he always wanted to make an entrance, always needed to be the centre of attention, had a knack for talking a little too loudly.
He couldn’t! He wouldn’t!…
I was the adventurous type, willing to try new things, I enjoyed spontaneous acts but I also cherished my private moments… The secrecy of love, maybe because my closet had its own fair share of skeletons. The fact that I still hadn’t determined who I was more into… Dayo or Tunde.
I didn’t want to choose, damn you Dayo, I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to make this choice. With Dayo I usually felt like the centre of his world. Tunde had a bad boy persona constantly requiring I chased him around for my fair share of attention yet I loved the way he made me feel. I loved them both.
Dayo was me playing safe, Tunde on the other hand was as a rocking boat, always unsteady. Both elements I needed.
Seeing Dayo go down on one knee at the Airport lounge and about to pop the question confirmed it. I knew in that minute I had to make a run for it. I would have to choose and I wasn’t ready!
I hailed the first cab I came across and told the driver 25, Ashton Drive, quick!!! I didn’t look back, I didn’t want to upset the balance of things as I headed to Tunde’s flat.