The rains have chosen to pay a long visit to this place where I’m being made to serve my fatherland, and the accompanying cold is unforgiving. The guy next door has his significant other to keep him warm through the downpour, but for a lonely soul like mine, blankets will try (in vain) to provide shield from the weather. My quiet bed accommodates all kinds of thoughts, but I refuse to dwell on memories of love unrequited, so I choose to scribble down something. These words have no specific destination, but I hope they get to you.
I don’t know who you are (right now I couldn’t be bothered), and for all I know, you may not even be eligible to vote. I might have met you on the bus, passed you by on the streets, or collided with you near the offering basket. I may have blown chance after chance to meet with you while searching for you unconsciously, but I pray (yes, pray) that Lady Opportunity will be kind enough to stop by my door again.
You can’t be blamed for having a preconceived notion of what the ideal man should be; it’s ok to desire the TDH formula. Well I come with the T, and without the D or H, but I’d love to hope you don’t mind. And err, I don’t have that well-chiselled six-pack you would love to run your fingers along, so I just hope you grow to like the one round pack I’ve got, but I can assure you that I’m not pregnant. Not to worry, you don’t have to be like the runway queens or video vixens you see on TV. Intelligence turns me on, and while I would love it if you could be intellectually stimulating, it would be just fine if you could tell Martin Luther King from Nelson Mandela, staying above the “Paper Doll”mark.
I have a weakness for cakes, so it would be a plus if you knew how to bake, yea, bake cakes even better than Benny does. I love my meals with a significant amount of pepper too, and it would be really nice for you to keep that in mind. Height is not an issue by any means, but I might worry if you were more than 6’’2 tall; I shouldn’t have to worry about stretching upwards to hug another lady besides Bukola Aluko. Don’t think for a moment that I’d be put off if you wear glasses, I actually have a thing for girls with those. I don’t expect 21-day fasting programmes (or Novenas) each month since I’m not signing up for a clergy-girl, but it would be really nice if you could chat with our Maker frequently on our behalf, I’d appreciate a touch of the Divine in whatever we’d have together.
I really do hope you can cope with reading up thousands of words in one sitting. Whoever’s going to take on the Road with me would have to be able to relate to what I do; I could use a Muse, or a critic at the very least, otherwise feel free to use the door. You would completely win me over if you pick up a liking for Football (that would add even more spice to our weekends), and it would help if you supported a rival club, we can’t both be brooding when clueless Moyes leads my favourite team to another poor performance, then again there’d be something different to argue about. I appreciate all genres of music, but it would make sense if you could key into soft rock or alternative gospel, so you don’t go bickering when it’s Coldplay from the music player all evening. Ability to sing and to move your body are very much welcome, I could use a private dance instructor, forget about my voice.
I’m not strict about the level of innocence, and a little naughtiness won’t hurt, but please be naughty with me, not the entire male population of the neighbourhood. The temptation may be there, but please do not pop the “how old are you” question, I’m beginning to find it annoying, and I personally can’t understand what all the fuss is about age. I do hope we get to the point where you’d be able to tell me stuff by just staring into my naturally sleepy eyes, but until then, verbal communication with respect to your needs is key, I’m no mind-reader. My primary love language is physical contact, so it would help to pay no mind to my hands whenever they decide to wander. Don’t expect our hangouts to always be something from a carnival, but be rest assured that I won’t be haggling over the price of meals in fast food joints.
A little drama is not out of place, but anything resembling what we see in Mexican soaps will be hard for me to digest. From time to time we may say things that are out of thing, and when that happens, I hope neither of us plays hardball in accepting an apology. I would try to be as reasonable and gentlemanly as humanly possible, but don’t always expect me to open the doors for you or carry thine handbag, this isn’t the novels. We both know that a relationship is not a life sentence, and while it’s really good to think ahead and project into the future, it would be irritating to always bring up discussions about what names to give the future kids, or what colour the future mansion should be painted with.
Quite frankly, I’m not sure when and where we would finally have that fateful rendezvous, but I just have that feeling that I’ll know it’s you when our paths finally collide. I believe that I won’t need any thunderous voice from the sky to confirm anything, and that we’d definitely be worth the wait. Time will tell if I’m asking for too much, and until then, I’ll probably just hide myself in some bedroom or cupboard, staying up just to write more notes such as this, addressed to no one.
– From the winds of one of Akwa Ibom’s cold December evenings.
(Follow this writer on Twitter @Le_Bouquineur)