DEAR MARY

By Chuks Oluigbo

Each time I think about you in another man’s arms, my head spins and I nearly go crazy. I’m filled with poisonous anger, poisonous even more than a viper’s venom. I feel like stabbing you to death, even if I languish in jail thereafter, just to end my present ordeal. But I think again, was it your fault or mine? No, it wasn’t your fault at all. Perhaps it wasn’t mine either. Maybe we were never meant to be. Just maybe. But, if someone must take the blame, then I must be the one. Perhaps I wasn’t man enough.

From that day you packed into our neighbourhood with your parents, I had my eye on you. I began to nurse secret ambition to talk to you. You were only nine then, and I just a little above twelve. That first day I saw, I felt surges of emotions rise in my insides. Something in me told me you were meant for me. I wanted to approach you and tell you that I love you, but I felt you were way too tender for such emotions. So, I stood aside and watched you grow into a woman. I watched silently as breasts emerged on your flat chest. At first they were the size of peanuts. Then they grew into udara, and then oranges, and by the time I realised it, you were already fifteen and looking all grown-up.

I began to watch every of your moves. Each time I saw you pass, I contemplated walking up to you and telling you what I felt, but my courage always failed me. Yet I grew green with envy each time I saw a man stop you and talk to you. I felt you should be left to me alone, yet I hadn’t the courage to express my feelings to you.

Mary, you might find this difficult to believe, but for many months I practically followed you wherever you went. I was dying in silence, desiring you more than the very air I breathed, longing for the day you would be in my arms, for the day I would hold you, kiss you and call you mine. Yet each time I came close to you, my courage failed me, and I just pretended I did not notice you, while deep inside me, I longed to touch even the tip of your headgear. You might be surprised at all this. I knew you thought I didn’t like you. I knew you thought I was too proud, arrogant and snobbish. Far from that! I was simply overpowered by your beauty. I was not courageous enough even to say hello to you.

When I began to see men around you, I started forcing myself to dislike you, especially when I noticed that your orange breasts had become full-sized paw-paw. I knew that men had started touching those breasts of yours, and only God knew what other part of your body they touched. But I could not bring myself to hate you. Each time I tried, I realised I was merely calling a dog a bad name just to hang it. As the days rolled by, rather than hate you, I loved you more, and my hope of having you multiplied.

You remember the day I stepped on your toes under the big mango tree at the General Hospital? I did it intentionally. You annoyed me because you talked with Ebo, that stupid man whose son was caught copulating with a she-goat. You talked with him while I watched you from my secret corner. Why did you allow him to hold your hands? That was what angered me most. That day, I followed you all the way from the house. I saw you when you passed in front of our house. I knew you would pass. You usually passed at that hour. So I stood by the window and waited. When you passed, I allowed some time to elapse, then I followed behind you, ducking behind trees and bushes whenever you looked back. I didn’t want you to notice that I was trailing you. It would have exposed me and caused me great embarrassment. When I saw you stop for that stupid Ebo, I hid behind the hospital latrines. How awful that place smelt! But I endured the smell, all because of you. From there I eavesdropped on your conversation with him. I strained my ears but only heard faint, indistinct whispers. When he left, I made up my mind to approach you and declare my love to you before any other man found his way to your heart, but when I drew closer to you, my courage failed me yet again, and I merely stepped on your toes to register my displeasure that you talked to Ebo. But when you said you were sorry for obstructing my way, my heart skipped a beat. I was overwhelmed. Your voice sounded like love song to me. I was elated that I had exchanged words with the queen of my heart.

For many months I boasted about that feat to my friends. Do you know how many people I told that I had slept with you? I even went to the extent of stealing your picture from James, the photographer, just to show as an evidence of my intimacy with you. And they all believed me. I received many congratulatory messages for being the luckiest guy in our neighbourhood, that is, until your suitors started coming in droves, and you finally settled for the man who married you.

But why am I recounting all these things? Would they make any difference now? For God’s sake, you’re married. You belong to another man now. Do I expect you to leave your marriage of four years and come to me? Can’t I go on without you? Maybe. I don’t just know. I’m so confused. I’ve tried. Yes, I’ve tried severally to withdraw my heart from you and give it to another woman, but even when I’m with another, your face keeps coming up, and your name too. I see you in my dreams everyday and every night. What am I to do? Should I just let you be? I wish I could, but I can’t. What option do I have? I’ve left you alone these four years, but they’ve been years of terrible heartaches and emotional torments. If only I could set my eyes on you again, hold your hand and tell you how I really felt in those years, and how I feel right now, perhaps it would make things better. I wish I could see you face to face and express my love to you, even if you don’t accept it. I know it’s already late, and I can’t turn back the hands of time. Poor me! What else do I do but sit here and nurse my self-inflicted sorrow, only wishing I had bared my mind to you then? But even as it is now, I know I still love you. You are my first and only true love. Mark this day, I’d rather die a bachelor than marry another woman because I’m married to you in my heart.