False Alarms and Open Territories
A cynic is someone who believes that people are only motivated by personal interests. It is difficult for a cynic to trust the intentions of anyone, so even when something absolutely amazing is staring one right in the face, a cynic will stare it down and try to find what is wrong with it. Most often than not, we do find what is wrong with our gifts; we look our horses in the mouth and are immediately put off by the decay.
This is a defence mechanism; a coping mechanism – if we expect the bad then we won’t be too affected when it happens. But this mechanism also weeds out small chances at happiness that comes our way. Naturally, cynics aren’t born cynics; they become cynics because from early on in life they encounter people who are motivated by their own gain and they think everyone else must be.
But we’re always hoping for someone to prove us wrong. Someone to show us that there is at least one person in the world who doesn't ulterior motives and genuinely cares for us. With Nunya, I didn’t have the chance to find his dark area until it was too late and I had fallen hard. It angers me to think about it sometimes and I promise myself everyday not to let it happen again.
It’s been a year and four months since he disappeared. I am in a two month non-committed relationship with Kwabena which he seems to think is the best he’s ever had, maybe he’s just being nice, or maybe he’s biding his time until I sleep with him or maybe he met me only after my break up with Nunya and he thinks my lethargy is an inborn trait and he’s accepted it. Or maybe he’s just biding his time till I sleep with him. I’ve been thinking of breaking up with him. And after the events of tonight I just might.
As I stand in shock at the tall, dark figure that rises before me on my threshold, a million words rush through my mind and I am only able to snatch a very small number to form coherent thoughts. Each of these thoughts creates a different, short-lived, nonetheless, powerful reaction in my chest.
‘Nunya is back!’ – Heart races.
‘Oh my god!’ – Heart speeds up.
‘What am I going to do?’ – Heart skips a beat.
‘It’s not Nunya’ – heart drops.
‘It’s Deladem!’ – heart jumps up again; granted, not as high as the first time but I’m happy to see him. It’s been so long since I have but when I rush into his arms, I feel like I’m coming home. I’m suddenly glad the compound is dimly lit – he missed the look of disappointment that passed with the realisation that he isn’t Nunya. My evening is looking really good.
Deladem and I have always had a special relationship. Even after I turned down his proposal of marriage, he remained loyal to me, keeping in touch and telling me how much he still loves me. He’s always been good at proving his love. I notice the suitcase on the landing and realise he’s straight from the airport. I had tried for years to find his selfish motivation and failed so I chose to accept that he is probably the one exception to the rule.
* * *
When I first slept with him, I had just met him and I had broken up with my first boyfriend. It was a bad relationship and I was feeling especially vulnerable. He had invited me out to be my shoulder to cry on. Talking progressed to kissing and before I knew it, we were back at his hostel and having sex. I kept waiting for him to disappear seeing as he had got what I thought he wanted without even trying. I thought perhaps he was waiting around to get it again so call it self-sabotage or research, I slept with him again and again. Third time’s the charm, right?
He stayed. So I asked him point blank, one day as we waited for our lunch orders to arrive at the cafeteria, “What are you still doing with me? We’ve had sex, surely, you’ve 'conquered', so …”
“Conquered?” he chuckled. “You think this is a conquest?” he chuckled again.
“It’s not?”
“Sweetheart, if anything, I should be asking for your forgiveness. You were vulnerable when I met you and I took advantage of you but it wasn’t intentional. Some men don’t know a precious thing when they encounter one, other men know these exist and look out for them. When they find one, they hold on tight and don’t let go. ”
He leaned forward and took my hands in his. Looking me dead in the eyes he asked, “Which category do you think I belong to?”
I didn’t think I could believe the answer then, people will say anything to make themselves look good in someone else’s eyes. But I found out so many times later; when he made a promise not to sleep with me again and didn’t for years until I seduced him in a moment of need. I found out again when he got the chance to do his masters in Denmark and asked me to marry him. And if that wasn’t enough, I would certainly know now.
* * *
He kisses me on the cheek and smells my hair before letting me go.
“You could have told me you were coming I could have come to get you.”
“And miss this sensational hug?”
“I would have hugged you at the airport,” I throw over my shoulder as I unlock the front door and let him in.
“It would have been a simple, I’ve-been-looking-forward-to-seeing-you hug, not this I’m-surprised-and-elated-to-see-you hug.” He hauls his suitcase in and I lock the door behind us. I turn around and see him standing there watching me.
For a minute we just stand and stare. Then a smile spreads across his lips which teases a smile out of mine.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” he says to me.
“Neither have you.”
In that moment it is just him filling my hallway, my mind, and temporarily filling the void I have been trying to fill for months. It suddenly seems like nothing has changed since he left. The one hope in humanity I had been searching for was him all along. I always knew it, but I never realised it.
I moved towards him, he doesn’t move, he know what I am coming for but he lets me go all the way, like he is saying to me, ‘this is your territory, you make the rules.’
When I get to him and plant a kiss on his lips, he sighs deeply, like he had been holding his breath; waiting for this to happen. Apparently that was prompt he needed to get comfortable in my space. His hand goes up to cup my head just above the nape of my neck, and his other arm snakes around my waist as he delves into my mouth. The evening is looking even better.
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