“You only need one man to love you. But him to love you free like a wildfire, crazy like the moon, always like tomorrow, sudden like an inhale and overcoming like the tides. Only one man and all of this.”
― C. JoyBell C.
“If you’re going to love someone or something then don’t be a slow leaking faucet—-be a hurricane.”
― Shannon L. Alder
My husband and I have been married for about 3 years. We turn 3 this July and dear God, what a journey it’s been! We’ve known each other since 2008 back in Uni when we were hiphop heads and neo-soul bumping kids. I figured before I move on to share about my husband or myself in the now, it would be best to introduce you to who we were so you can understand the story of our becoming.
That said, allow me to re-introduce my wonderful husband Dave and our story to the new readers here.
You can start here for extra context.
The memory of our first encounter remains sweet on my mind. How I was minding my own business at the Little Inn counter waiting for my lunch order when he asked me to walk over to his table. The quadruple flips that had taken place in my mind jacking me up the moment he motioned me over had my blood on edge. The nerve! To wait for the very instant my then boyfriend walked away so as to call on me? Uhh! I was far too offended and curious to decline. Against every fibre of sense in me, I walked over; three other guys at table with eyes looking at me.
“What’s your name?”
“Is that your real name?”
*Rolls eyes* “Yes.”
“Wow. Okay. My name’s David and this is…”
He then proceeded to introduce his three companions and said the clincher.
“I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”
I stood there, baffled and offended yet at the same time, charmed. Deeply. Waiting, because really, there had to be more that he was going to say.
Feeling silly, the anger kicked in. I walked back to the counter and almost as if on cue, my then boyfriend appeared with a tall bottle of delicious cold Fanta in hand. Back then there was no need to count calories. The colder the drink in the Lukenya heat, the more the satisfaction.
He carried our lunch (pilau and beef) and I proceeded to tell him what had just transpired, my hands doing more of the talking. He laughed.
“You must really like him if he has you tripping like that.”
*Gasps* “What? No! I’m telling you because that was rude. How dare he wait for you to leave to make a move? So lame. Besides, it’s me and you all the way baby.”
He laughed again, and it gave me the spins. Deep down, I was afraid that he was right. I was afraid that it was the beginning of the end. And I was certain that a time was going to come when I would have to choose between the two.
Darling, if something is stuck on your mind, talking about it over and over again, even when you’re genuinely angry about it, especially if it’s about a guy, will do one of two things to you: It’ll either warm you up to him or make you dislike him even more.
So I was a wreck. I begun seeing Dave everywhere I went and noticing the little things like how he smiled in an I’m-so-cool way, the Hollywood co-star of a chic flick kind. The way he walked, the way he talked so confident like the world was right with him. He was my enigma in a hat. Had me on that deep tip, neo-soul loving, bobbing my head to the coos of Floetry, Common and Lauryn Hill. We’d be walking side by side only for him to stop me in my tracks and call me his beautiful sunshine. I was stunned every time. Like, these guys really exist? And yes, he could easily have been one of the charming ones, hat tricks up his sleeve with a golden tongue that tells you what you never knew you wanted to so badly hear. But it never crossed my mind. As far as I knew, beyond the neo-soul hiphop I’m-so-cool like exterior, he was the marrying kind – a little wounded but still radiant like the dream. We would often share coconut cookies and milk and laugh, and talk about sitting on rocking chairs on our porch in the future carrying our little ones.
Our moments were brief, and we part on terms that my heart belonged to someone else, rightfully so. You see, he didn’t know. All that time from the beginning when I thought he had timed my then boyfriend, all he was doing was unsuspectingly giving a beautiful unattached lady a compliment in hopes of it maturing into something. The end was inevitable. He asked me to return to my man, tell him everything and make things right. I knew I had to so all I could give him was a promise – that I would return for him if he would wait for our paths to be led together again. That if he could do nothing else, that he should only save room for me in his heart. The circumstance was not ideal, I knew that. But there was something about him that I just couldn’t shake. And because I knew that I could not control what the future held for the both of us, saying goodbye stung me deep. I left knowing that I was probably leaving my true chance at love. It killed me a little everyday since.
Much time passed since then, and even more took place after. We both ended up single, we were both knocked down by life and found our way into God’s arms and we became friends again. So to be here – sharing a life with him where our love can exist without fear is a dream my younger self dreamed time after time since we part ways. Our winding paths joined together into this certain kismet, this meticulously set path that is bigger than us and carved by the hand of God. What started off as a chance encounter is now a journey into the heart of God and His plans for us. Because what good is a power couple if they are not swords in the hand of God? And that is what we strive to become each day.
Ours hasn’t been the easiest love story. From the very beginning we were rocks – so hard headed and mountain high. Our journey has been littered with conflict, misunderstanding and disagreements. But learning how to forgive and love has built a well of love for us that we’re drinking from today.Conflict shouldn't scare couples. I know, from personal experience, that conflict is the price you pay for intimacy. Click To Tweet
It’s about closeness. It’s about communion, and communion unlike communication needs no words. We’ve come to understand the crutches we run to when fear rears its head in conflicts. We know each other’s walls and how to bring them down. We know when to be quiet and when to speak up.
Oh, but my darling husband will get crowns for the way he loves me. Crowns I tell you! I can count the many times we’ve been living on a prayer and a shoe string budget yet he put my dreams first. He’s silently prayed for my weaknesses and trumpeted my successes. He’s never, not once called me a bad wife even in the moments that I knew I needed to do better and be better (perhaps I’ll get into this in a series here but here’s a snapshot you can watch).
And guys, that’s why I’m grateful for this man and the way he leads and loves me. How he guards my heart and shoulders my pain. How he fights my fears and inspires me to become who God called me to be. He is God’s gift to me, precious and ever giving back. And to think that God will use our marriage to transform us, to transform me. After all, the light that shines the furthest shines the brightest at home. The journey continues…