DEOLU

Can I tell you a story about a time in my life when love was mesmerizing? Can I tell you of fantasy and collage of aestheic memories?

Just one story about my valentine…

My Valentine is an artist. Slender, somewhere between 5’9 and 5’10, afrocentric, cute smile, talented hands, kissable lips (we never did kiss though).

Let me start from the beginning. It happened in my second year of uni (rain semester), waiting outside a lecture hall for an ongoing lecture to end so I could go in for my lecture.

As I stood scanning the crowd, my eyes landed on this dark guy with an awesome smile, discussing with a group of guys, I was enchanted. Before I knew it, my legs carried me to him. “I am Dara” I said, “Deolu” he said. I blurted out immediately, “I have a crush on you”. That earned a blush from him and laughter from his friends. No embarrassment here, I meant what I said.

We became inseparable, joined together every class, I started spending time at his studio after classes. Euphoric, intrigued, I felt all the chemistry and pull between us. It was eccentric, innocent, yet, electrifying.

Deolu is bliss to me, his memory evokes a smile, he loves so demontsratingly, passionate and bold, gentle and strong, erotic and agape. Yeah, he has an artist soul. The spark of colors, the stroke of warmth, beauty and grace.

Valentine came…little did I know that this simple act of love would remain with me a while…

I used to love orange, I mean the color and in a day where red is queen, Deolu painted love orange. He had an orange picnic basket, orange napkin, cup cakes decorated orange, my favourite orange drink, and a painting of me with an orange hue. Walked into an all female hostel to spend an evening with me in a not so private room, I wished we could have seen an orange movie too but we didn’t.

I can’t even remember what we watched but I remember the euphoria, being the center of attention, dedication, and admiration. I remember canceling another date because he said he was coming to my hostel, I am glad I did.

Seven years later and no one else has ever come close to this Valentine experience. I know it sounds so simple, but that was the beauty. The innocence, the benevolence, the spark, the ecstasy.

The imprint upon my heart made me see in more ways than one how worthy I am of love, pure, and unadulterated. I have had other Valentine, people who make everyday feel special, but I doubt I can forget in a hurry this bliss you carved.

The thing about giving from love is you can never know how much it carries, how far it will reach, and how deep it will touch. Love is kind…

Thank you Deolu. My sweet Valentine.