Moyo's Diary

Chapter 3: Could I, Would I, Should I?

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With little surprise, Feyi isn’t happy and I can perceive it right from the moment she barges into my room while Addie and I are chatting about my mini-adventure last night. Right now she’s hovering over me and I can sense she wants to have a one-on-one talk about last night.

“G’morning,” Addie mutters but also senses Feyi wants to have a private talk with me.

“You guys act like I’m not your sister,” she snorts before heading out of the room and closing the door behind her.

The room is silent for a short while before Feyi finally speaks.

“Well… do you mind telling me what last night was about?”

I roll my eyes. Predictable. “I went out, or am I too young to start dating?”

“I wasn’t complaining about your dating class madam, I was talking about the young man you dressed up like a street girl for.”

The heat was beginning to crawl up my face. I’ve never felt so insulted in my entire life. If she thinks I’m going to sit here and watch her call me names then she must be mistaken. “Wow, thank you ma.” I push myself up from my bed and head for the bathroom but she pulls me back.

“Don’t walk out on me when I talk to you!”

“Or what?” I hiss. “Please let me be.” I jerk free from her grip. “When you and Fisayo were dating, did I complain, or when you use your midnight calls to disturb my own sleep at night, do I ask questions?”

“You act and talk like a child. You think I don’t know it’s Remi that you went out with and how you two were smooching in the car. The moment you allow him to touch you, you’ll plant ideas in his head. He’s going to think you’re cheap!”

Cheap? The nerve for her to assume I had given the guy access to all of me on our first outing. “And how is that your business?! Do I come to your house to ask what you and Fisayo do at night?”

I couldn’t have imagined this happening but her palm hit me right in the face leaving me in shock.

“Spoilt girl, don’t ever talk to me like that again, do you hear!”

My attempt at hitting her in return is futile as she grabs my wrists and hauls me to the floor. She’s taller and bigger compared to my thin frame.

“Does that man look like a marriage material man eh? You should grow up, come to your senses, get a grip, and stop daydreaming about one guy you had a crush on.” She yells at me while I whimper on the floor. “And as for that Adeola girl,” She continues in our dialect and points a finger at me. “That girl will get you into trouble one day, I’ve told you.”

“Leave me alone and get out of our house!” I yell back at her. ”Mrs. busybody. Go to your husband’s house and be useful there.”

I cower expecting her to pounce on me once again but she shakes her head at me. I can see hurt in her eyes but she recovers almost immediately and leaves my room, banging the door behind her.

***

Dear Diary

It’s been 3 months since Feyi and I had that silly fight and although we chat on BBM, our conversation feels restrained. I know it’s because I’m still in a relationship with Remi. Although I’m scared things are going faster than I anticipated, I’m scared of breaking up with him because he seems to be the best thing to ever happen to me in my twenties. I’m still keeping myself, I know that but I would be lying to myself if I told myself things were the same.

Our kissing is getting intense every day and there was a time I had to tell him I wasn’t ready when the kissing was going way beyond what I expected. I could see the reaction on his face at the realization of the truth but he seemed fine with it, but that didn’t stop him from touching me in places where I would never allow a man to touch me.

I’m getting scared that I might give in soon. Why can’t I tell him the truth that I was keeping myself because God wanted me to and not that lame excuse that I wasn’t ready?

As far as I’m concerned, I’m never going to be ready till my wedding night. I really hope I’m strong enough to last long. I’m getting scared of myself and the kind of girl I’m suddenly becoming because of Remi. Do you think it’s love or lust? I’ve had feelings for him since my first year in Medical school. It has to be love, right? Or is it obsession? Is something wrong with me? To me, I feel like we’re doing everything except sex. I know it doesn’t go beyond my clothes but I just feel uncomfortable when his hands keep wandering on my body like he owns it. Hopefully, I’ll be able to make that clear to him.

That’ll be all for today. I put the diary aside and reach for my Bible when I hear a snicker in my mind. Guilt suddenly creeps in and causes me to feel like I would be deceiving myself by attempting to read my Bible. It’s been a while since I heard God speak. And as a result, I feel like I am passing time whenever I read his word.

Since I don’t have any inner comfort about my current relationship with Remi, I console myself and tell myself I’m doing fine. After all, this is what I had dreamed about for a long time. This is what I wanted, Remi to love me and want me the way I had often dreamed of.

Why do I then feel like I’m holding out on God? Although Remi seems to respect my wishes of no sex yet, why does it feel like I’m the one making more effort about this resolve? I thought it was expected for all believers to know this.

I really miss Feyi. I also feel guilty for saying those words to her.

But she had slapped me! Was I supposed to apologize after that?

Also, Addie got a new job and as a result, we hardly get to talk these days. She returned home last week and ever since, I have been left alone with my thoughts, my job, and Remi.

Remi and I have lunch whenever I’m on night call and he drops me off at the hospital in the evening. He works in a different hospital located on the Island. We talk a lot when we’re alone and that’s how I found out he’s considering practicing here for a while before moving to the States in the near future. He doesn’t have a date yet and a part of me wonders if I’m part of that future he’s designed for himself.

We haven’t gotten to that conversation yet.

I feel like I don’t know myself anymore and I’m living a false kind of life where someday things will fix themselves like a puzzle and I’ll be left standing like a piece that’s out of place. I used to be someone who could stand face up confident of being pure. I could boast about my abstinence and vouch that I could never commit sexual immorality but now, I can’t state my stand anymore. The world could still see a righteous virgin, but God and I know my heart is a mess. I am still trying to convince myself that God brought Remi to me.

Something tells me I need to be sure where my relationship with Remi is leading. He’d mentioned moving in together during one of our conversations. Although he had mentioned it in passing, I have to let him know I’m not that kind of girl. I want the love, the ring, and the marriage. I want to build a family. I want the commitment.. the whole shebang, and ultimately I want God to bless our union. This means we have to keep our kisses to a bare minimum and define what this is.

We’re dating, but to what end? And why is it that anytime he’s around, my resolve weakens and I find myself compromising?

God, please help me. I want love, but at what cost?

Although unsure what I’ll tell him, we’ll have to really talk when we meet and stop the unnecessary kisses. We’re going to sit like adults and sort this out. That’s probably the solution to the whole problem and guilt I’m feeling at the moment.

I know him, I believe I do and I feel assured he would understand my views as a Christian since he’s one also.

Well, wasn’t he?

Opening my diary, I scribble down:

Remi and I are going out next week. Fingers crossed. I have to tell him. Wish me luck.

I’m quite glad I’m not on call tonight. Propping up my pillow, I turn off the lights and try to fall asleep.

***

For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror. For he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was.” James 1:23-24

This verse jumps right at me as I read from my bible this morning and though it’s not a pleasant scripture, I feel God finally speak to me and I’m happy we’re on talking terms. I scribble his word in my journal, praying it sticks in my heart as well. It hits deep and helps me decide why I need to set things right with Remi today. I am a little scared, but I’ll have to do it for the good of us both.

Sweet fellowship with God resumes today. I can feel it. But this doesn’t take away the strange burden I feel.

Things get worse when I find myself alone with Remi in his car. The thick walls I had spent days building seem to crumble the moment I set eyes on him. His pink polo T-shirt is unbuttoned, giving me a glimpse of his silver pendant. It’s so small and barely noticeable but it makes him look so irresistible. He’s also had a haircut.

Jesus! Why does sin look so attractive, even after reading your word today?

When I raise my gaze to meet his, I find him smiling seductively and I feel hot all over.

“Hey love.” He stretches from his seat and gently plants a kiss on my lips.

I should be pulling back from this, but once more I allow myself to sink once again in this feeling of false ecstasy forgetting the prompting from the scripture that was just in my head some minutes ago.

He breaks the kiss this time and caresses my cheek, his eyes filled with desire, from which he immediately recovers, starts the car and we drive off.

***

I can taste rum when he kisses me but I feign a smile, pretending once again that everything is okay. Remi is a social drinker. I’m fully aware of this and since it’s never been an issue, I’ve never brought it up. His friends are here at the get-together party so I guess I’ll just have to postpone my conversation with him until a time when we are alone. He holds me close like a prized possession and at that moment, I tell myself I’ve got this.

Don’t let him cloud your judgement Moyo! You can do this!

I swallow.

Is that you Holy Spirit? Are you really rooting for me? Do you actually believe I can do this, even when I feel so weak anytime I’m around him?

We’re all having a nice time when Remi introduces me to his friends who seem impressed by our relationship. One of his friends keeps staring at me curiously and this causes me a great deal of discomfort.

He seems to be communicating in codes with Remi. I particularly notice him wink at Remi while passing him a bottle of beer. Remi in turn slowly moves his free hand to caress my back.

I look back at his friend feeling very uncomfortable and I can see him assessing me. I hear that loud voice in my head telling me I should leave.

Leave! Right now!

But how can I? I love Remi. I did in the past and still do. I had loved him almost all my life. He was my first crush whom I’d never gotten over. If I couldn’t get over a crush for more than seven years, then it had to be love. Right?

My glass of margarita gradually warms up and I still haven’t taken a sip of it. I had tasted the rum from Remi’s lips but I can’t drink this or pretend I’m into this. What if I throw up and embarrass myself? How would I look before his sophisticated friends and their girlfriends just because I feel the need to ‘belong?’

Feeling suffocated, I place the drink in Remi’s free hand and whisper that I need to use the restroom. The venue of our get-together houses a comfortable restroom and I politely excuse myself.

I spend some time in the restroom as I try to clear my head and garner composure. I take deep breaths to calm my racing heart and confused self. Looking into the mirror, I feel like I am looking at a different person. My face is overly made up and my cleavage is a little too exposed. When did I come to this?

Little wonder Remi’s friend held that sultry look

I feel the shame wash over me before my fear and insecurities rise to the surface. My blood-red lips are impossible to escape attention. My bone-straight wig makes me appear as someone else when all I ever want is to be me, Loretta Moyosore Amure.

“Who are you Moyo?’ I ask, still looking in the mirror, and trying hard not to cry so I don’t soil my mascara. The girl I was before meeting Remi again could cry when she felt the urge to, and it brought her relief when she did, especially when she cried to God. But the girl I am now can’t cry without overthinking it. If she cried, she would soil her makeup and Remi wouldn’t be able to show her off. I don’t want to upset Remi. I would do anything for Remi.

Anything?

The realization leaves me shocked. If I’m paying more attention to my feelings for Remi over God… am I worshipping him? Am I obsessed with him?

I had stopped being the usual Moyo Amure for a while now and I knew it. A different me had taken over, fully manifesting itself.

I hear male voices and footsteps approaching. Why are they coming towards the restroom? Isn’t this supposed to be the ladies? I hear Remi’s voice filtering through and I panic. Thinking he’s coming to get me, I run into one of the toilets and lock myself in, standing on the seat to avoid being found. I am on top of the seat when I realize I’m in the men’s restroom.

Omg! What could be worse?