I loved the fact that we didn’t fight the way people fight in relationships. We barely shouted at each other. Nor has she ever packed her bags. Or I slam doors in anger. It was like our relationship was made in heaven. In fact, we never let a disagreement escalate to the next day, if we couldn't solve it that day, we would sleep over it and pretend like it never happened. Nobody will ever speak about it again, even though it hurt inside
But I was, that was the problem. We kept piling up issues within, yet nobody talked about it.
I wouldn't lie, I loved her. I know that much. The way she laughed with her whole body. How she smells whenever she sits close to me. How she listened to what I was saying, as it mattered. And I know she loved me, too. It was evident in her eyes.
Our fault was that we just didn’t know how to talk when things became serious or got sour.
It was love at first sight for me with Adenike. I had bumped into her at the mall just at my junction. I never knew she was with her mum when I engaged her in a conversation about the author of the book she was holding. She had this striking resemblance to Ana de Armas, the actress.
She had stylishly scribbled her number on a piece of paper for me quickly before her mum would finish paying for their groceries. In fact, she promised to get me another copy of the book she was reading since I hadn't read it before.
Our first date was at the park, where we sat with nature and talked about everything. She made talking easy. And at night, we sent long messages. She made me laugh a lot. I felt alive with her. I thought that was enough. I thought I had found the one who would make me a father.
But gradually, silence began to creep into our long afternoon talks and late-night calls.
I could tell we've begun to see our differences. Things were gradually changing. It began to show in her eyes. I noticed it, but I didn’t always ask. I told myself I was giving her space. I told myself I was the one at fault. At the same time, I wondered if she saw her own faults too. I thought giving ourselves space and not talking about it would help us. I thought it was love.
Sometimes she would ask why I've been quiet.
I would lie, “I’m just tired.”
She would ask, “Are you okay with me? I feel like we should talk about it "
I would say, “About what?" I would pretend not to know what she was talking about. "Of course, I'm fine.”
I wasn't fine, I was sure she wasn't too. Our relationship wasn't. But I didn't want to lose her. I was scared saying something would worsen it instead of mend it. It had cost me my last relationship.
So I kept quiet.
Until one evening, she didn’t lean on me as we sat together just outside my house. The tension was high. Our silence and unspoken words had built a wall so high between us.
“We don’t talk to me anymore,” she said, avoiding my gaze and tracing the sand with her toe.
I nodded. I couldn't hide it anymore. I stared at my phone like I was expecting a call.
She looked at me for a long time. Her eyes looked tired. "I feel like the way we handle baggage issues without getting to the root of it has eaten deep into the fabric of this relationship."
I nodded again. I was willing to talk this time. I wasn't scared again because even if I held back or talked about it, the outcome was going to be the same thing - and that was losing her.
"Although we still say I love you to each other, we both know it's not true as before." She paused. “I can’t keep guessing what’s in your head, or pretending like nothing happened the next day after a big disagreement and not talking about it. At first, it felt right, but now we can agree that not having those conversations ruined things," she said.
I didn't nod this time. “The truth is… I was scared of the conversations. I was scared of losing you, scared of saying the wrong thing.”
“I was, too." She replied as she looked up at my face.
"So we chose silence, thinking that it would protect us." I nodded gently.
She stayed quiet for a moment as she resumed tracing the sand again. This time with her fingers. The words hang between us. “I guess… we learned the hard way,” she finally said softly.
I got up and reached for her hand. I was scared she would refuse, but she let me.
I pulled her close and asked, “How about… we try again?” I whispered.
She smiled faintly. “This time… we talk.”
I nodded. "We talk."
I hugged her tight as she let her head fall on my chest. We just stood there, our bodies glued to each other, saying nothing more, but somehow saying everything.
