Revival of us

Chapter 1

MALAIKA

Sona Jabertah's Saya track plays in the background. My little thinking session song. Today I am particularly taken back to my first encounter with Enzo. My Enzo.

Tall, cocoa coloured and a perfect jawline. Sharper than a razor and stronger than a rock. I know this now,  I've made sure to run my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw. He could be a model if he wanted to. And he would be the most sought after one. I believed that as much as I believed in him.

If I could sculpt,  I would have built a giant sculpture and placed it in the middle of every African country, so my people could get a first glimpse of an african diety. We were a  year in already.

A handsome boy was a complex boy,  I learned from our relationship. He was odd sometimes. Smiling one moment,  glaring the other. It always happened in a flash, it was infuriating.

Our first meeting was magical. Landy ,  my cousin and one and only friend,  had decided on a spontaneous trip to the mall. The trip,  it had turned out,  was an unapproved date with a guy called Kg. Kg had come with an accomplice. Enzo. The sight of him was heart wrenching. Taller than all the 17 year olds I knew. The moment he smiled,  I was a simply gone. A new resident of cloud nine,  paradise.

We had exchanged numbers,  chatted daily. On our second date,  which was a week after he asked me to be his girlfriend. Of course,  of course. You'd have sworn he had just proposed. We were inseparable. Still are inseperable,  to some's dismay.

Landy and Kg never worked out, perhaps their paths crossed for me and Enzo to find reach our Genesis.He walks me to school daily,  carried my bag and treated... treats me like a gentleman.

The flowers, stolen, the ones he picked from the front yards of neighbours,  should have been a slight warning from my heavenly Father that we were headed into the wrong direction.

My head was now permanently closed to the voice of the Holy Spirit.

But love holds no records of wrong, right?

Whenever I tried to ask for direction,  there would be no clear response. One voice screamed 'yes,  keep going you will fix him' the other gently said 'no',  a simple delicate no. I went with the loudest. Like I always do. I loved him. It wasn't the boring, simple love my parents shared.

We were not to give up on others right? Forgive seven times seven. Our relationship was held in tact by forgiveness... And love. I love him.

There were many times though. One too many times where I had to forgive. One time when he called me a whore,  for wearing a mini-skirt. I had never worn such, as uncomfortable as the dress had made me feel, I wore it. I wanted to look sexy for him,  like the girl he'd be staring after. Another time he deleted my instagram account,  too many roving eyes of old men and boys he had said. Small little offenses,  ignoring me when I refused to decline shopping trips with Landy, not texting in time, not calling enough. Those ones were easy to forgive.

But there were difficult offenses,  ones that seemed unforgivable. Comparisons with other girls. Threats,  chilling threats of cheating. Suggestive looks at other girls,  these mostly occured when he didn't get his way. One time he had almost... choked me.

I was convinced he was going to but his mother arrived in time. That dark look in his eyes,  indicated an absence of his soul. When I had confronted him on the matter,  he had laughed. "I would never. I could never. It was just to scare you. Come on,  I could never." He had said, placing small kisses on each one of my knuckles.

All was well in paradise again.

Was it wrong to forgive?