I found myself smiling for no reason, as I tossed from one edge of the bed to the other, at the same time enjoying the warmth of my large family sized bed.
Everything seemed so perfect as my good mood seemed unending. But before going really deep in thoughts, I soon realised that I was thinking about you, yes You! my Deji and redness spread all over my cheeks like I had generously powdered my face with blush, as I remembered that I am 'your girl'.
Last week mum had scolded me about the house chores and I had been really sad, but soon you came around when I needed you, calling me 'iyawo mi' and 'ima ima'. Oh! the nick names you call me, that feel like a special secret ingredient to an African dish and tunes up my excitement like a child really into 'party rice'.
All the girls want you, I can see their desires boldly displayed like a bill board, but you hold on to my not manicured fragile hands and walk boldly with me across the street, and then holding my chin and tilting my oval fragile face up to stare at you; well it was no secret that you are way taller than I am. You would whisper softly 'I choose you, only you'.
Those other girls jealousy affected by our love, would come to you to give various complaints. "funke did this, funke did that" they would say. But you would wave them off, telling them that I am your beginning and your end.
Guys are not really into gossip or listening to our girlish ranting when we have problems with that former friend, course mate or hostel mate;so I have heard. But you listen to my problems like they were yours too, which makes me want to pour out my heart and soul to you, because I know you would listen. And that makes you different from all the rest.
You are better than my Ex, Kunle who was so stingy with money that he would call, only to ask me to call him back. You are also better that Femi who was a cloth magnet and would only utter a word of hello... Before trying to get rid of anything called clothing on me.
In summary, you are my 'Mr perfect' and you treat my body like a 'holy temple'. But then again, you are always there for me when I need you.
My joy soon reduced as drastically as it had risen with the realisation that you do what I want you to do, and say what I want you to say. In fact you are who I want you to be and that is because you are my own 'creation'.
Yes, My Deji is the figment of my own imagination... But I console myself with the fact that I would meet him someday....
And so would you reading this... If you haven't found your second half yet...
Your love... Funke...
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