City of Love (2)

 

 

By Emmeline Bisiikwa, Uganda

The time for the date approached and I made my way to the restaurant. We had agreed to meet in public because I did not want to end up meeting a serial killer or something just because we had a connection.

He hugged me and kept telling me over and over how amazing I was.

You’re even more amazing in person.

You look amazing.

Your earrings are amazing.

I teased him about it being his favorite word.

He said I made him feel amazing.

He kept staring at me all night and I wanted to hold his hand so I asked him to switch seats so he could stop looking at me. He reluctantly changed, complaining about not having a good view anymore but I got what I wanted, him close to me. He held my hand and asked if I was ok.

My back was hurting, and so I kept moving in my seat trying to get comfortable. He asked if I was ok and I told him my back was killing me. He asked if I wanted to leave. To go dancing or go for a massage or really anything he could do to help. I told him that was alright and I was glad he cared.

Eventually, we left and he dropped me home. The conversation that night was especially sweet. How he wanted to love me and be with me. He told me he felt safe with me and thought I was amazing.

Days turned into weeks and we were still crazy for each other. One night as he kissed me goodnight, he whispered in my ear, I’m crazy about you. I told him the feeling was mutual.

Our first night together he just held me and told me he only wanted to please me and wouldn’t do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. That’s the moment I realized I had fallen for him.

I’m falling for you Rick.

Come down here Vickie, I promise to catch you.

Are you sure?

I want to break down all your walls and let you break mine so we can build a new wall around us both.

I’m scared Rick.

So am I Vickie. But we gotta jump down together. I promise not to let you go.

I buried my face in his chest and closed my eyes breathing him in. I was falling and I could not stop myself even if I tried.

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