When they ask us how we met, we both smile, giggle and then try to look as though we are thinking of a particular frequently traveled path down memory lane.
Then I hold his arm affectionately, he responds by gently pulling my cheek, I laugh and I say, ‘Feyi, the honor is yours’. He responds by looking into my eyes and saying, ‘It’s an honor alright’, and then he smiles affectionately. I swiftly turn to look at our onlookers and I’m never disappointed by the look on their faces; sheer jealousy.
Feyi, then says, ‘Well, I had sorta been stalking her for a week (then he winks at me), and then this particular Monday morning, I decided to be a man (he always clears his throat here and smiles). As she walked past my parked car, I got down and started following her. She was walking really fast. I was walking fast too. It looked like she was really focused on getting to work extra early until she took an unexpected turn to the right. I, too, (he opens his eyes wide and shrugs), unexpectedly follow her. Then she stopped abruptly, spun around and said, ‘I’ll make this easy for you. Go.’ I just stand and stare at the awesome beauty that is Stephanie and I say, rather stupidly; ‘the road is both of us’. Then she frowns, squints, tilts her head to the right and both of us just start laughing. And (he looks at me and pulls my cheek), that was it.’
When we tell this story, the women normally go, ‘Awwww…. ^_^’. And the men are like “Hahahah… seriously?? The road is both of us? Sure you were fucked up. Junkie.’
We respond to each response respectively. This encourages most people to ask, ‘How did he propose?’ Feyi then says, ‘Ah! Well, Steph is better at saying this one than I am’.
I laugh, punch his hand gently, scratch the tip of my ear, giggle coyly and say, ‘It wasn’t an elaborate and all so romantic proposal. But I loved it. It was just a normal Tuesday at work and work was actually fast. But every time I tried to leave the office for home, my boss sent in more work. The more the work, the higher its irrelevance. Already I wasn’t in a good mood because Feyi and I had an unbelievable quarrel, the night before. He had accused me of saying his name with a mocking tone. As ridiculous as that sounded to me, I realized he was serious. I was really mad at him for thinking such and at that point my boss wasn’t helping matters. After the tenth file was sent in, I had had enough. I strolled into his office and said through gritted teeth and with clenched fists, ‘Sir, please, I’m going home.’ He looked up and said, ‘Sure, goodnight’. I was stunned, exhausted, frustrated and angry as I strolled down the stairs with tears in my eyes. Immediately I got outside, my eyes caught a familiar figure as he ran to the middle of the narrow road and began to stop traffic. I scoffed and thought to myself, ‘Well, my boss hates me and my boyfriend has gone mad. Is this an interesting day or what?’ Then Feyi got on his knees, in front of honking cars and yelling drivers and shouted ‘Please Steph, marry me and let’s start our lives together on a road that’s really both of us.’ I moved nearer and said ‘Hhahahah… you’re insane. Mad, that’s what you are. And you’re no longer worried about my mocking tone ni??’ Then he said, ‘You’re the insane one darling. Why would you even believe, for a moment, that the sound of my name on your lips is not the sweetest melody there ever can be’. At this point, horns were blaring, I was crying and laughing and he was laughing. A man came out of his car and was shouting. I didn’t hear a single word he said. I hugged Feyi and shouted, ‘Of course I’ll marry you idiot. I love you too much to say no anyway’. We celebrated with family and friends that night. Well, after we bailed him from the LASTMA guys.’ Then, at this juncture, I smile, exhale deeply and say, ‘And here we are, happily married :D’
When women hear this story, they get very emotional. I have caught some crying before. The men are always like ‘Wow… Dude. Look as you just blow… from ‘the road is both of us’ to this sappy ass drama. Ode.’
When we tell people our stories, we tell them those stories.
But when in the comfort of our companionship, we tell our real stories, I tell Feyi how I almost did not accept his friend request on Facebook because I thought his picture looked too dorky. He tells me how I was the slowest typer he knew when we used to chat on Facebook. He tells me how, although he thought I was the weirdest girl ever, he was overflowing with joy when I showed him my pregnancy test results and said, ‘So are we doing this or not?’
When we tell others our so-called stories, we become who we’re not. But only because who we are and how we feel is incomprehensible to the common man. Hence, judging us is inevitable.
And the honest fact is that, when we tell our so-called stories to others, we love to stare at them and watch the effects of our creative imaginations… just because we can.