I think I'm in love!

Maybe I don't get butterflies fluttering in my belly or any of the other mushy feelings people describe when they say they're in love, but the way I'm getting addicted to a particular person, I wonder if it's normal.

This is not fiction.

His name is Wisdom.

Source
We started out as friends at first, texting to know where the other person was and if he was doing fine then it transcended to dropping chats like "How is your family?" Which got answers like "They're fine, my niece and nephew are barely giving me breathing space over here".

When we began chatting intensely, I traveled to Port Harcourt to spend the holiday with my sister's family where I was greatly adored. So whenever I saw a message from Wisdom, I would rub my hands dry on a towel, pick up my phone, and give a prompt response. If I was sure the task I had at hand was going to interfere with my dropping prompt responses, I would apologize to him and ask for some time to round up. He was always understanding, replying with "Alright, take your time" and a smiling emoji to buttress the fact that he was okay with it.

The calls came in gradually. I would stand by the window in the children's room, overlooking the street below and staring into it as he spoke, savoring his voice which made my lips lift at intervals.

He would say he "just wanted to greet" me and I would acknowledge the warmth of that gesture with appreciation, informing him that I didn't take it for granted. With time, the calls began to linger. When we spoke, we didn't just "greet" each other. We spoke about important topics regarding life. I would be nodding furiously while he shared a similar opinion or a shared ideology. This made me anticipate the times we spoke a lot because I knew I was getting value.

My sister and her husband noticed I was now spending longer time in the room alone. Whenever my nephew called out for me, I would go over to carry him and head straight back for the room, Ignoring whatever program was showing on the television. So they called me to ask for the gist because they had figured there was one.

"Uncle it's nothing o" I answered my brother-in-law, unable to wipe the sheepish grin from my face and look him in the eyes. He did not pressure me, he just asked to be the first person to be informed when there was "something".

My sister on her part didn't buy my "It's nothing" story. She gave instances of when I had been caught smiling absentmindedly, how I was slightly over-excited recently, and how she had caught me staring absentmindedly into space when I should have turned off the fire while steaming rice that morning.

Being that I didn't want to build castles in the air, I told her about Wisdom as casually as possible. She listened intently, nodding her head to show she understood and opening her set of white teeth where my story got amusing.

"Just be careful" was all she had for me when I was done.

I was quite glad that they didn't make a fuss over it.

I lost track of time on most days, defying the normal need to sleep at nightfall and talking late into dawn. Sometimes we only knew it was late when my niece would sleepwalk towards me so I could take her to use the potty. By the time I went back to school, the calls had intensified from just talking about life to talking about ourselves as well.

I felt so comfortable sharing my person with him, my plans, my dreams, and even my fears. All these he took without complaining, yawning absentmindedly, groaning, or hurrying me to finish up. He was truly interested in me.

I began to understand what it meant to be emotionally attached to one person, where it seemed like you could hardly concentrate when time in its fullness had not been dedicated to hearing from him.

I tried my best to conceal what I had realized, ensuring he didn't know that I was becoming both attracted and attached to him and as an actress, I did a pretty good job. However, I didn't expect him to open up the way he did a couple of days later.

"Treasure, I cherish what we share…"

Did I mention that I knew what it meant for one's breath to be taken away? In that moment when he reduced his voice to a whisper with the crickets chirping and the cool, evening breeze tickling my skin, I felt like my breath was actually being stolen from right under my nose. It was like the world stopped just for us so we could say in sincerity, under the stars, how much we felt for each other.