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Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

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Saturday, 9 June 2018

Why Stand By Me In The Morning


   Why Stand By Me In The Morning, because our warm embrace is real. Why laugh with me in the evening, because all I say is true. And why cry with me in the evening, because I pour my heart to you. Also why lay with me at night, because our day is done our thinking forgone and we need our energy for tomorrow.
  It was magical and felt real as he lowered his lips to mine and my heart raced a mile. I can still feel his soft cold sweaty palms on my quivering flesh.
In that moment I felt my pelvic dance and my body lean towards him. I know I am lonely but I do not feel alone. And in that instant, my head took charge and moved my hands to block what would have been the perfect kiss. This was not meant to be, I will not become one of those women that end up with their late husband's best friend. I also understand it all now, as a child I heard of this and thought it a betrayal. My auntie we'd her late husband's best friend and in that instant. Questions about her infidelity during my uncle's life time plagued my mind. Although my uncle's reassured my aunt's that nothing happened. It was logical to think in that way and be suspicious. Everyone has suspected me and have concluded that I must have given him my body. But how could I? Mine was Henrik's, my heart was in his and his in mine. But the sting of death quenches this longing and now my dreams are hunted by another. This our one moment of almost kissing plays in my dreams and my wakeful thoughts. Perhaps I am not busy enough, after all I should have my runway collection ready by now. I have cut and hand stitched pedalled and used industrial machine to sew my collection. My show should have a collection, by August I should have a collection. By August eight my collection should be made and as I hand stitched roses, I smile.
And then frown, his rough cheeks that brushed my smooth skin made me want him. God help this mortal body fight this desires of the flesh. My phone vibrates and his name pops up, this handsome beast that means to tame me. I vehemently refuse to pick and know he will come to my office this dark morning. So, I rise up. Unafraid of any and everything at the same time.
 I need a treat, hot chocolate drink drenched in milk to wake me up this cold morning in the city called Lagos.

      As in, this is a now official. The sun has yet to shine too much behind thick cream clouds. It's almost four in the afternoon and yes it's a little bright but the weather is cool. Why didn't the sun simmer down like this yesterday?
    I'm out now, in my mind. Walking in this cool weather with my light make up intact. I have been up for twelve hours straight now and as I curl my cold toes up on my firm bed, I plead with sleep to come my way.
      I am tempted to take a sleep aid or some antihistamine to just calm me down my allergies and my nerves. Rainy season sucks, but plants need to grow and we all need crops to feed the world. I feel like I have not eaten and I've had a full wrap of pounded yam with vegetable soup and Fresh fish. Yet I am hungry again, maybe because it has been six hours and I am dreaming of a long grain jollof rice with sweet peppered sauteed fish resting on my dining table.
    Two straight days in a row, I've called and been chatting with my childhood friend. I know something  is up and the Facebook reminds me. My friends birthday is today, I call quickly and of course there is a party and I had no option to decline the invitation.
    In her beautiful home in G.R.A. Ikeja,  I didn't get too excited.
 Today was the last day of my five day medication for food poisoning and so as I walk into her house... I remind myself that I am just here sightseeing, it all looked good and exciting and as I watch people eat I smile. Nothing on earth will make me eat a cold meal or party food. And for the tenth time since I stepped in, I politely refused all the delicious foods. This is really delightful, i mean watching people eat.
My mind wanders off to the man in my dreams and then guess who walks in?
He had a toothpick thin model with him and they were laughing together. Her dentition was perfect and her nails well manicured and of course her winged shoes made me want one.
 Daniel caught me admiring them and marched straight to me.
 We both hug and then he squeezed me tight and lifts me high up. His date stared at me and I smile at her.
'Ade o my goodness, you look even more beautiful than he described'
The voice kind of sounds like Daniel's and had a familiar tone to it.
'No', I protest.
  It was Daniel's younger sister and model and she squealed. She was such a horrid snob and a spoilt brat back then and I didn't know what else to say.
'Oh goodness I am all grown and not the childish brat you once knew'
We hug a d sit together, I like this new woman and she listened better than she spoke.
 In a moment, I see his eyes see mine and he takes my hand. It was supposed to be subtle but Liz saw it and he leads me to the dance floor.
'This makes it the too obvious and I avoid looking at him as he looks at me.
'We are friends first and if you don't want to, I respect that'
 I look up and he cups my face and I grab his hand and place them back on my waist.
'Friends then', I add and heave a sigh of relief.
It was like I had been running and as I rest my head his chest, I feel at ease.
'How is your tummy?'
'Did Nnoye tell you?'
''We don't talk, I saw you pat it a bit'
    I chuckled.

**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 33**
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede