Can we try again?

Sixty-one

For days after our date, all that was on my mind was the kiss.

The kiss.

At first, I couldn't believe myself, that I actually kissed Kenny, on our first date. God knows I tried my best to resist the urge, but the pull was too strong. Too strong for me to fight back. So instead of fighting, I just gave in. And of course, he was a good kisser too. That didn't help. The way he worked his way around my lips, whilst delicately holding my cheeks, it sent a tingling sensation up and down my spine.
So, obviously, I had no regret whatsoever. Instead, my affection for him grew even more.

And that scared me a little. I didn't want to rush into things and end up scaring him away. What if it turns out that I like him more than he likes me? I certainly didn't want that to be the case.

Someone once said that before you throw yourself at a person, be sure that they are strong enough and willing to catch you when you fall, otherwise you'll end up plummeting to the ground, face first.

I needed to be sure that if I fall for Kenny - which I think that might be the case - that he'll be there arms wide open, ready to catch me.
And for some reason, I knew that he would. I knew he liked me. He adored me even. I could see it in the way he gazed at me and smiled. The little things he did for me. The way he called me 'babe.'

"It is official then," Oma squealed over the phone one evening. "You've shared a kiss, a passionate one for that matter, and now he's calling you babe. Girl, you're officially in an relationship."

"I don't know o. I don't know if he sees us as a thing yet."

"Oh please, are you that blind? He calls you babe. That's enough na. And you've sealed it with a kiss. What more do you need?"

I guess she was right. It did kind of feel like we were in a relationship now. I go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning to his ever so sweet text messages. 

Most lunch times at work, we'd go get something to eat together... Other times, when I'm still tied up with work, he'll send someone to deliver the food to my office, along with a note:

Hey beautiful. Thinking of you
I miss you and can't wait to see you later.

And yes, we might have shared one or two, maybe three or more kisses together - from the times when he'd drop me home after work.

It was even a miracle that my parents haven't accidently bump into me in his car and seen me snogging the hell out of him.
Or that those nosy neighbours - we do have quite a few - haven't been spying on me and proceeded to snitch on me to my parents.

We were still an exclusive couple, but I didn't want it to remain that way. I wanted him to meet my parents, but I had to be certain about us first. 100% sure.

I liked him a lot and things between us seemed to be moving fast. It was exciting, yet terrifying.

And even though he still doesn't know about Jameel yet, I think he'll be alright with it. He's shown me pictures of his cousin's children and told me how he had to babysit once. He loved it apparently.

So, it was safe to make an assumption that he'll make a great dad, or step dad at least. I hope.

***

It was Saturday evening and I was sat in the living room, with Jameel. We'd just finished a meal of boiled plantain and stew. Jameel was sprawled on the floor, his eyes fixated on the cartoon showing on the TV.
I wasn't paying any attention to the cartoon or Jameel, rather, I was too busy exchanging text messages with Kenny. He was telling me about his long day in a 'boring meeting.'
He said he'd rather have spent the day with me, because my presence always lit up the room. That statement provoked a wide and sheepish grin from me. It's sweet words like those, he uttered to me that made me smile so much that my cheeks hurt.
It made me like him more and more each day.