CHRISTMAS DATING
Episode 14
.
.
.
Love teaches you to be patient, to be kind, to care for those who stay close to your heart, to extend a helping hand to those who need your help.
Love is like a fine, red wine; it intoxicates. It is like the early morning sun, the one we yearn for, the one we look forward to everyday. It smells sweet and romantic, it eases the soul of pain and sorrows.
Love is a language. It’s sweet to the ears. Like my Sweet Jojo speaking Spanish, like him singing me a poem before bedtime, like the voices of a thousand choristers singing in an orchestra. It sends shivers down your spine. You get that tingle feeling spreading all over your body with goosebumps popping out.
You don’t know why you feel so head-over-hills in love with your soulmate. All you know is that he or she means the universe to you. To have them in your life becomes a blessing that you can never understand. To receive their calls becomes your favourite thing. So you stay all night, up, chatting with him and smiling to your screen. Your woman suddenly becomes the sweetest, perhaps, the most beautiful in the world.
I liked what love meant through Jojo. And I saw him as a symbol of love. He was everything love could define. Everything. Everything!
So as I drove home to get a few things we needed at the hospital, I felt my heart flying. Not in shock. In peace, joy and comfort. I felt Jojo’s presence in my spirit. I thought about him. I thought about us, about everything, about how we began.
I remembered the first time he called over the phone when he was incessantly sending me gifts. He had traveled to Dubai for some reasons. I spent long hours talking with him on the phone. I stayed up late at night just to chat with him. He sparked a feeling in me that made me change my mind about men and love.
I grew into him. I got used to loving him. I got used to being free around a man. He made me say my mind out loud. He showed me that he wanted me to feel free around him. He didn’t just say it, he showed it. Not once. Not twice. Not thrice. More times than I could count.
None of my previous boyfriends came close. Not even an inch. My Sweet Jojo was different. He was full of peace and compassion. He would always joke about me having another boyfriend asides him. He would smile and give me that sharp look that always made me lose focus.
Like music, Jojo was a sweet blend of melodies. He was music in himself. He lifted my soul. He lit a flame within me that still burns everyday. He made me feel dopaminergic. You know the way you feel when your favourite musician whispers into your ears through your earpieces? That was how.
I got home and went straight into the bathroom to take a shower. A rush of warm water ran through my hair down to my back and all over my body. It felt like Jojo writing love poems on my skin. I don’t know how, but I felt his fingers cuddling my hair. I enjoyed every bit of the moment. The calmness within me was unusual. It was because the thought of Jojo staying alive filled my mind.
Until I finished from the bathroom I had him on my mind. I knew he would be home soon enough. I missed him so much and couldn’t any longer. Cancer could do all it wished, but my mind was made up that he wasn’t leaving me alone in a lonely world. What a faith that was 😊
I sang and danced as I dressed up. I kept whispering that Jojo was coming home soon. It got stronger and stronger. While in my frenzy my eyes went to the frame of Jojo stamped to the wall. He was smiling at me. And I smiled back shyly, as if to say he was there with me. I stood there and admired. That was my world looking into my eyes. That was love personified.
I dashed out of the house still singing and jumping and dancing. I took a few things along so I wouldn’t have to come back so soon. And I drove off. While driving to the hospital, for some reasons I could not explain, I had a nudge in my mind to buy Jojo his favourite Strawberry Ice cream. But he was in coma, I thought.
I bought the ice cream anyways and headed for the hospital.
When I opened the door to his ward the bed was empty. Jojo wasn’t on the bed. My heart immediately Skipped three beats. I literally felt my breath stop. I didn’t want to believe it was what I was thinking. Jojo cannot be dead. He must not leave this world behind my back. I was quickly sinking. The tiled floor felt muddy all of a sudden. It felt slippery. I felt my legs going into the ground, or they felt like they weren’t mine anymore.
I quickly took a strong grip on his bed to maintain balance. And ease myself of the discomfort shrinking my chest. I bended my head in tears sobbing. The nurses could have at least waited for me to return before removing his body. I was crying, and crying. I was bitter. Then I rose up in anger to confront the doctor.
I had barely touched the door when it went ajar and Jojo walked in with the nurse that was helping him. My Sweet Jojo was on his feet, walking into the ward with the help of the nurse. My eyes were wider. I wanted to move my feet but I felt glued to the ground where I stood.
“Sugar. . .” he called me faintly. More like a whisper. “Come, my baby, I missed you,” he opened his arm for a hug.
It was like a dream. A flood of tears in my head went loose from their bank. My face became wet with my tears. I walked lazily to him, as if my limbs were just learning to move. I hugged him so tightly that he gave out a soft groan that showed that I had hugged him too tightly. I eased up. I stayed in his arms, sobbing like an infant. I didn’t want to let go.
The nurse stood and watched as I hugged him. She was waiting to fix his drip back. I kissed him gently and stayed for as long as eternity. I had missed his chocolate lips. I missed the tenderness of his skin. I missed his baby-boy voice.
“My Jojo. . . You’re strong again” I said, rubbing his chest when he had laid on the bed and the nurse had put his drip back.
“Yes,” he said, softly. “I’m strong again. For us.” He smiled.
I looked on for a very long and silent moment. I was smiling at him and he was blushing. The doctor came in shortly.
“Oh, Madam. You’re back?” he asked.
“Yes, doctor. I’m so sorry I took so long.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “Not a problem at all. Joseph is healing miraculously. I can’t explain it. But the cancer in his lungs is fading gradually.”
I looked at Jojo and smiled. He squeezed my hand softly. “I can see for myself,” I said.
“Just make me know if anything comes up. I’ll be in my office.” The young doctor said and made for the door.
“Uhm, doctor?” He stopped shortly. “Can he have some Ice cream?” I asked.
“Well. Not much. Just a little, maybe.” He said and continued to walk towards the door. “You better get well quicker. Your wife needs you, my friend.” He said behind the door. He and Jojo had become good friends before I fell in love with him.
“I bought you some ice cream.” I smiled and brought out the ice cream.
“You’re so sweet, my angel.” Jojo was feeling very confident.
“Here.” I gave him a tip of the ice cream. “Thank you, baby.” I said.
“For what? I should be thanking you.” He smiled.
“For not dying and leaving me alone in this world,” I laughed. We both laughed out loud and hard.
“Sugar. . .thank you for standing by me.” That his baby-boy voice sent tingles into my ears.
“Hmm. Uuhrm. . . I will accept. . .only if you say that in Spanish.” I laughed.
He looked at me sharply and threw me into a frenzy of laughter. I felt alive.
Then he said it in Spanish. And said many other things that he interpreted later. He said I was the most beautiful woman in the world and that I was the queen of this Kingdom. He said I belonged to royalty and that I deserved to be taken back to the country where I originally came from. I was blushing. Where did I originally come from? He said “Wonderland!” And he laughed gently.
I had missed him so much. God was hearing all my thoughts and my prayers to keep Jojo alive. And here he was with me, alive, strong, healing. Love was healing Jojo.
I placed my head on his chest and had him caress my hair. I missed his fingers cuddling my hair. I missed that chemistry. And even in his sick bed, he did it passionately. His fingers being dutiful. I kept kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him.
My Sweet Jojo was sweeter that love itself, deeper than love.
Typing episode 15. . .
— Michael Ituma
