I have nursed this feeling for so long now, like a fresh cut, hoping it will heal. Sadly, it hasn’t. Boja, after all these months in fact, it has become infected and if I keep it secret any further, I fear it will eat me up.
When we traded numbers at the church convention ground, I could swear we made an ironic bond. You lit a flicker in me and when I got into school to find that we were in the same faculty, that little fire evolved into an inferno. Boja do you know that I joined your fellowship ushering unit because I wanted more than anything to be close to you?
It all made sense that you genuinely cared about me. I liked that you walked me back to the hostel after almost every service. Boja, do you remember one of those nights when there was a total blackout? It was the third day in a row and you said you would not let me wade through the murky night alone to my hostel. We bought suya along the central campus market and gave it to the ‘meshai’ man at my hostel gate to get with our eggs. I bit my lip while we ate and you laughed at me, threatening to eat mine if I wasn’t fast enough. Boja, that night was one of my happiest in my 19 years of life. I kept smiling even after I had had my bath and was preparing to sleep. I can bet I kept a smiling face even while asleep.
Boja, you made me feel like I swallowed a ton of caterpillars because whenever I saw you, hundreds of butterflies started to flutter in my stomach. You won’t believe the number of times I imagined you and me saying I do in front of a minister. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this way because all the while, I thought you knew. Boja, I loved you. I gave you all of me, at least I thought I did.
Now it feels like someone drove a knife through my heart when I say I have realised that you gave me only a quarter of yourself, or less. Boja I emptied my life into our friendship while you stole the entire jar. I used to look forward to every next day because I knew you would be in it. Now I wake up every morning to the stench and stuffiness of disappointment hanging in the air.
Even if you I never see you again, even if the hope of having you to myself forever has been trampled on, I wish to ask you, did I get it wrong at any point? Is there something I failed to do? Why would you choose a dark cubicle, six feet underground over a lifetime on top of the world with your best friend? Why?