stil figuring it out, (part two)

...As he held my hand and unashamadely poured out his heart rthrough his tears with his head bent on my knees, I knew we were meant to be.I finally felt what I had been looking for. What I have needed to feel through the past three relationships that I had had.

As I stroked his head since thtat was the only way i new to take away his pain, I recalled our first encounter.I was walking home. I usually walk  that long stretch home for only two reasons; I was either broke and could not afford the fare home or I needed to think. On this particular Sunday afternoon, well, it was both. Theen, from nowhere, a man walks across the road to say hello and includes in his unwelcome pleasantries a previous meeting we had which for the life of me, I could not recall. Not that I tried anyway.He keeps talking on and on and since i am not known for my subtilty, I bluntly ask him to conclude the conversation since I needed to go home and sleep.

To cut the tale short, I eneded up writing his number on a piece of paper and stuffed it somewhere in my bag. he told me that if I called, then we would talk and hang. his way of distinguishing himself from the other men who call the lady a million times after insisting on having their contacts. His was a different style he said.

Incase my stuffing of the paper somewhere in my bag is not indication enough that I was not going to call him, I have news, I did not call-immediately. I was in a lovng relationship heading to the altar and I had read in some book that cheating also included emotions.So, I did not want to cheat on my man which meant not starting relationships whose future I did not know with men especially.

Well, life is life. When my man suddenly decided that I was not enough and that he needed a woamn of his stature, one with a real proffessssion- I am an actor you see(ofcourse pun intended)-, I did locate that piece of paper and bluntly accepted his offer to hang....

Still figuring it out...(part one)

I knew this would destroy him,I prayed and prayed that God would heal his mother.
His name is Pontifah and I am in love with him. He is not a typically boyfriend for a church girl like me but I love him nevertheless. I have never seen him so vulnerable as he is now.I look at him kneeling by his mothers bedside and he is so vulnerable and I pray that this will not take him a step back in his young walk with God.So,I keep praying.
Then,it happens. His mother died holding his hand. I hugged him and in between our silent sobs ,I knew it.
I knew that I had to be there for him.That he needed me...