When girls talked about boys, the subject irritated me. It was like quoting George Orwell from his book Animal Farm “Four legs good, two legs bad”. Boys were the two legs, I didn’t know who the “Four legs” were in my story. The only boys I ever regarded while growing up was my male cousins, I had no brothers and a few male friends from school. You could add my Dad and Uncles but I think they were men already.
The way I knew it, boys outside my ” respect zone” were just another species. I saw all sorts of them and they gave me horrible impressions every damn time.
From the boy at Class Six who tried to put his wobbly fingers beneath my skirt while he lapped me at the school bus because there wasn’t enough seating space for small me who wasn’t ready to wait for the next ride. To the perverted letters thrown at me from rusty horny school boys just a fence away from my home.
Phew! Have I mentioned the horrible stories Stella told of her brother and the deeds he committed that she could only witness through the open windows as her tummy grumbled in hunger because he wouldn’t let her in since he had to feed his own urge without interruptions?
Don’t get me started on that crazy brother who tried to steal a kiss when I came visiting Stella. He only let me go when my Knife in shining armour glistened in his face.
There were lots of those crazy stories that I can’t tell all and I was lucky not to get caught up in any one of them that could have scarred me for life. But the impressions they formed stayed like glue on paper on my mind.
So you see, I didn’t quite regard the male folk. Baffling was the respect I had for those in my circle. Every time I tried to fit them into this perspective it just didn’t work. The puzzle wasn’t right.
Then I found a balance, I believed for the sake of my sanity that all men weren’t the same. Like the good and bad wolf, the clan couldn’t have the same type.
That way, I stayed a respectable distance and watched carefully with eagle’s sight.
Till I fell in love.
Not knowing, not caring not even looking. I just fell deep. Just where I didn’t want to. And with who I would rather eat with a long spoon over dinner.
There he was, handsome as sin. Dark as melting chocolate under the sun. The dream I painted and reality I didn’t foresee.
And like every Disney story, we had a fancy “Beauty and the Prince” thing going on. He was no Beast or a camouflaged frog I thought. Just a different male folk, I kept assuring myself. The one only my eyes saw.
And like Snow White and her stepmother, he broke my heart and shattered it like Humpty Dumpty.
Then I looked again. What was I thinking when I fell? It must have been all that melanin in his skin. So dark, it blinded my eyes and took light outta my way.
Would I love again? Maybe.
But here is what I have learnt. All men aren’t the same.
Two legs may be good.