THE HEART AND MIND
It had become the beginning of an end, a change in character, and the randomization of an outcome. If confusion were an attribute to give a person, I solemnly would not lay allegiance in refusal of the word. Days had passed since my encounter with Kelvin and Leniey, and I sure knew I wasn't playing my game as neatly as I ought to. Leniey had started texting me, and I undisputable wouldn't deny the fact that I ought to text him back as fast as a reply popped up on my notification bell. It had been three weeks since the cultural day, and Kelvin and some random females were chosen by Leniey's agency to work on modeling and formulate careers out of their outrageously gorgeous bodies and blessed height. The school semester was over, and we, as the now almost-graduate class, sure waited for the end-of-year party and some goodbye and congratulations hugs. I had no idea what my life would be like after school, but one thing I hated saying was that I didn't wish to go back home and finish my psychology course.
Leniey had become an optimistic individual in regard to my responses and added some show of interest to the extent he had asked me out again, this time from another place, another latitude, and in a very distinct environment in comparison to the previous, with which I declined, for I had my cards right as I thought, but games of lies and mischief, I can't state that I have any experience off them, this was all Eva's idea, and I somehow wish I had never entertained, well, who could not? Kelvin was still my faithful boyfriend, with whom I had become so close after the realization that no one was betraying and lying. I convinced him, on that night of his arrival, to the extent he apologized for his reaction. I sure was the best at this. Kelvin had desired for me to accompany him to London, but my work schedule laid no acceptance in regard to any off-duty or off-work reloads. I had to go to work; I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, a stepping stone to a future I sure never knew about. The school cultural day was meant as an event to show the end of curriculum activities in the school; for the continuing students, it meant the end of a semester and shoved that they should be ready for the beginning of a new one, but for us, it was all ends, and already some mates had started packing their suit cases and heading home.
Kelvin's birthday was approaching, and I knew a lot was expected of me. The council members from the school senate had requested that I prepare a valid budget and find a cool place, like a hotel, to celebrate him and his endless ruling in the school. I never knew much about Kelvin's taste in hotels, but I knew he loved favorable adventures. I sure had a plan to take him to some swimming activities, a place where he would watch kids and play with them, and lastly, we'd celebrate the birthday at night from seven until dawn the following day. As I stated, we had become so close with Kelvin that people believed we would never be separated. My course mates had started planning our wedding, from two long-distance backgrounds and lives to a beautiful and great wedding back in Georgia, or somewhere in L.A.
My radio session had become a part of my daily routine, and it played a major role in keeping me busy. Eva and I had become famous and got recognized all over England, especially in Birmingham. We had started creating real-life discussions about issues concerning youths, not only around the city but all over the continent. Sometimes, I would give them my experience back in my home town, and they would have a lot to say about it. One thing I sure thank God for is that more radio stations have started contacting us via email, with some wishing to split Eva and me.
Today, we had finished our sessions earlier than expected, and all that was left was to take some lunch and head to our homes. Leniey and I had not stopped texting; don't get me wrong, I never entertained him, but he so often commented on something within my timeline, my status, or a random picture. The reason behind my disengagement from Leniey was that, first, I never wanted my past feelings to come rushing back as they did that day when he hugged me; it was as if I had been woken from a long comma, and lastly, I never wanted to break Kelvin's heart. I have always known the pain of heartbreak, and I have never wished to see one break because of my stupid disengagement and lack of thoughts. Kelvin was never a cold, bad, or evil person towards me; all he did was push me to level up and make me understand the value of working, pushing, and grading, as well as the appreciation of a productive day. Today's Leniey had become a puzzle; he sure hadn't changed, but for the first time I was shocked when he stated, 'I can steal'. It was more of a comment, but that one makes one overthink and question themselves about why they are thinking so hard about a certain circumstance. It was a picture of Kelvin and me, side by side, with him holding my hand and me laying my head on his right shoulder. One crazy fact about Kelvin in pictures was that he never smiled; it was some sort of smirk he made, I would lie if I said he never looked cute with it. So today, after lunch, I wanted to head home when I was called by one of Kelvin's friends about the party, and so I was redirected to going shopping with them. They had contributed a lot of money for the birthday, and for once I saw a true definition of brotherhood. They did all that without a need for any glamour or attention, just some selfless love they wanted to show their brother, as they always called him. Kelvin was turning twenty-four, and so I had this idea of welcoming him with twenty-four balloons and some twenty-four lit candles before taking him to the hotel for the birthday specialty that his friend and the council members had put into order. My timing was in order. I knew Kelvin would arrive back from London two days earlier than his great day, and I so wasn't wrong, for he had texted me when he would come.
The next few days before his birthday were quite normal: some radio station sessions and going back to my rental. I had started thinking of writing another book but was scared my schedule would become more fixed as the days went by and as our voice reached thousands of people in this new world. Well, I guess I will take charge of editing the book some time later, for publication and other purposes. Eva and I had become close, not just co-podcasters in radio sessions. I had told her my private tragedy and how much I wished for her to give me honest advice, but she just questioned, "Who do you honestly have feelings for between the two dudes? That's where the answer lies." I had never sat down and let my heart fully come to terms with my feelings for Kelvin. I just saw his acts, but one thing I knew was that I wasn't ready to lose such a person. Of course I was attracted to him—his body physique, the structure of his face, and his voice would never lie about why I chose him out of all the dudes who wished for a courtship and some dates with me. For Leniey, it was a different thing, which I did not know much about. His past actions never laid the foundation for why I even loved him and had sex with him without having him beg for it. Sometimes, I prefer calling it some childish acts, but the thoughts of that night never left my mind, and I always shunned them as far as I could, so that Leniey could be out of my mind, but my heart, I sure knew, had a different approach on this, and how much I inwardly hurt, knowing it would have to choose, and one of the subjects would hate me for life.
After the days, Kevin came back, and I welcomed him with a huge hug and some night enjoyment—you know, some kisses, some roe play, some bedtime. Kevin was good in bed; he made sure I felt him as hard as possible before he positioned himself for a slide in. Maybe this was another reason I so desperately wanted to be with him. He knew my spots and my weak points. I remember the first time we had sex, he had touched me somewhere; I am not quite sure of the place, which made me shocked at the sound I had produced, and as I had stated earlier, he always teased me after the act. Most times, I would either be exhausted and call out for water or sometimes just pass out until the next day. My sex life was good, and I so never complained. Maybe I should have told Leniey that I love him because he fucks great, but that would either way hurt his feelings, for maybe he would feel that I am comparing him, but honestly, during our time with Leniey, I usually have no idea of what to say. It was a spur of the moment, filled with emotions and urges, that I had no idea if to call it good or to call it an emotional exchange. The only scary part was that those emotions were still somewhere inside me, somewhere I never wanted to recognize them, and I sure totally never wanted to acknowledge them.
Today being Kevin's birthday, I had woken him early and forced him to dress up in some casual wear. I had money, thanks to my book and the radio stations, who were paying us a good amount of money that I so much appreciated. Kelvin was shocked at my acts, and I had a very good plan for that day. I wanted us to leave Birmingham for London and visit some beautiful serene places, and with the day being a Saturday, I had researched on the match fixtures, and a Manchester United game was to be played in the evening, back home at old Trafford, with a team named Everton at two p.m. I had dealt with the tickets for both of us and everything that we needed for the day. One of his friends had requested to be my driver, for I was not familiar with the roads in England, despite knowing about driving. The journey was cozy, quiet, and beautiful. I took the opportunity to watch Kelvin from afar. He was always handsome, an attribute I never missed in choosing my men. One funny thing about him was that whenever I was watching him, he would just shrug and let me do my thing. I liked watching him sometimes. I had this idea in my mind that he was like a museum that deserved watching; I was in love with his physique, and his personality was quite something else, and this scared me, for I wasn't sure how he would react if I ever broke up with him. He seemed to be the type who would never love again after a great relationship ended. He always had plans for us and our future. In the past, I was always happy for our plans, but this year, this time, I am found with foreign feelings of scare and worry. Maybe the question that we don't ask our partners when making future plans with them is 'are we on the same page?' I guess I was reading another, for not all humans are faced with the adage of paradise." Even the bible recalls that "hell is bound to some, and hell doesn't mean being burned; even hurting is some hell." It is a place no one wishes for, a place I would never wish to send anyone to, a place I once was, a place I would never call home.
Well, the day had become quite fruitful; seeing Kelvin so happy and having him enjoy doing what he loves most—feeding and talking to kids—was quite amusing to me. I watched every positive aspect of him. I wanted him to be always this happy, and today, being his day, I wanted him to enjoy it as much as possible, for he truly deserved something like this, in as much as I would state he deserved someone better, he deserved a good life, a good time, with which he never shyed to give me. Why would I shy to give it to him, laying claim that he deserved better? After our lunch session, we headed to Old Trafford to wait for the start of the game. Kelvin was a Manchester United fan who never shied away from bragging about them if they won. As the game commenced, I felt the urge to go to the toilets, so I left where we were seated and went up the stairs to look for one when, as I was walking through the overly busy corridors, an arm caught me off my tracks, blocked my mouth, and led me into some room. I wanted to scream when I saw who it was—Leniey. "What the f*ck are you doing?" I asked angrily. He just looked at me and said quietly, "I just saw you two and just wanted to say hi." I wanted to leave when he firmly held my hand and stated, "Can I take you out some day? Angel, I know this feeling is mutual. Don't shun me at least, listen," I so much wanted to leave, but hearing him beg made me stay for a while. "What?" I asked. And this time, he had nothing to say. I knew this part; this is the part where we stare at each other, acknowledging our endearing feelings, and it so started that, even as much as I wished to leave and stop, my feelings for him hadn't changed; they were still fresh. His eyes had averted from my eyes to my lips, then down to my navel. I wore a half-sized Manchester United jersey. I knew how much he wanted to touch me, and I knew I wouldn't resist even as much. His eyes always teared when turned on, and with us staring at each other, some inspector came in and said, "Hey, you two. This is a no-fan basement," and with that, Leniey caught my hand, and we left. I wanted to leave him, but he tightly and forcefully brought me back to himself with a huge thud onto his chest and him deciding to hug me, he stated near my ear lobe, "Please text me, stop hiding it, I do as much want you as you do. But I understand your situation; he is a good guy, and I don't mind being the second." At that moment, one thing I so desperately wanted to do was touch him, kiss him, or something like that. And this time, I knew only he had control over me. From home to overseas, even without dreadlocks and without the serene environment of home, I would choose him. With what he had said, I just nodded, and slowly releasing his hold on me, he gave me a slight peck on my chick and then requested I go first, and we walked towards the stadium seats and waved each other bye. It was Kelvin's birthday, and I was almost ruining it. This is the part where I scold myself, and I couldn't stop the mind from conversing, but the heart knew. To paraphrase an adage I had no control over, we sure never have control over whomever we have feelings for. We just found ourselves, and with that, I focused on the game. This was not just a football match; it was a game of thrones, and Everton seized the opportunity to take a first-hand two-goal count. The great Manchester fans famously hoped for comebacks, and maybe hope was what made me relate to the Manchester fans and those who had solemnly lost their currency in some betting apps. It was a game, and I had another game; just the players were different, and the illusion was in the mind, but the heart never seized to speak, but it had all the answers, and that, I knew. It had all the answers.