Chapter Seven - Infatuation

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Infatuation
It can  you bark like a dog
Or purr like a cat
The only fact about infatuation is that
It doesn’t last long
One day, one month, one year and it’s gone
But before you realize that it isn’t love
But infatuation
You would have done something really foolish
So next time you think you are head over heels
You might want to use a bit of logic
A bit of common sense
And a bit of spirituality
Religiousity
Call it whatever you want

The thoughts of a certain gallant man sat on her mind as she sat reflecting in  the solace of her workroom. It was probably infatuation, she convinced herself; but deep down she knew it was the beginning of a soon to be platonic relationship. Her instincts had never failed her and she feared history would repeat itself this time too.

All her thoughts about him teleported her to a past that she feared would make a repetition.

Joel had been her first love ,her only love; she reckoned. How they met was even coincidental. It was one of those wee days with Eva on a mango tree. The  duo had vacated from senior secondary school and were having one of their numerous conversations when Joel passed by. He was a friend to Eva ; daunting, charming, and fearless. He had a level of confidence that Ingrid admired and always dreamt of. It was his natural flare that got her physically attracted.

As and when the lines of friendship blurred, Ingrid was not aware. Slowly,  she found herself following his every whim.  It was more than hypnosis, more like a narcotic. Her love for him had disabled her. Ingrid, filled with youthful zest did hesitate to sacrifice for him. She could not decipher the truth from lies.

The narrative only changed, when her family were faced with financial constraints .

He said he was being strained by the relationship. As to how strained he felt, Ingrid had no idea.

All she could think of were the good times they shared together, or was she being delusional? Was she in love with an ideology instead of an entity? How foolish could she have been? To the point where she had no idea she was being marginalized till the very end?

Not once did she question him about his philandering ways or overtly loud behavior . She simply adored him for who he was. She saw in him confidence, self -esteem and playfulness. All she wanted was a little concern from him, to be loved by him.

After all, men were known to be promiscuous by nature. It was a basic human right for all African men. Even her dad who doted  on  her mum had fallen out at a point.

She found it funny how cynical the brain could be when the heart was scarred. More than the heartbreak, what hurt her the most was the consistent catechizement  she received from her subconscious.

The more she tried to forget, the more stupid she appeared to have been.

Among all the turmoil though ,she realized that if she was to make any progress, she had to forgive herself. And what better time to forgive than Christmas, when the lamb whom we all sinned against atoned?





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