On love: We won't all enjoy marital bliss

 

In the church yesterday, a young couple sat before me. It was obvious they were a young couple.  It showed each time they whispered and touched each other (which happened often).

They seemed to have a lot to say. Their body had only began to learn about each other so it could not bear to stay apart for long.

They sat so close that I could swear that a fly will scarcely pass and their bodies moved in rhythm. Each anticipating each other’s movement as they danced gleefully to the drumbeats of their love. 

Photo Credit: Bella Naija Weddings

I imagined the wife as a bride, adorned with colourful clothes and shaking her waist until the jing of her waist beads against each other forms its own music. She will wave her fingers often just in case we didn’t get a better view of the large diamond rock resting on her fourth finger.

I imagined the man, proud, beaming like a Cheshire cat. Just as he had done each time he acquired a new property. The occasional jing of the waistbeads sending sensations to his groins. Until he grunts in primal male satisfaction. It shall be a long night he will whisper as he sprays his last wad of cash. 

Today, another couple sat before me. Older ones this time. Don’t ask me how I knew. Even you would have known. Other than the age gap, the woman’s wedding band did not scream ‘Hey! I am married’ so loudly. Oh, it was there quite alright. A thin gold band. Quiet. Simply glad to be there. A lot of flies could fly between them. One or two small animals too. 

Their music was slow. I imagined their dance steps, gentle, in rhythm with the music. No need for haste. We have a lifetime after all. 

There was no touch or spontaneous display of emotions. For all that needed to be said, there was an eye language. What can be new under the sun?

Their love was there. Firm. Not in any way less than the younger couple. But I thought it different. A mesh of compromises with a generous sprinkle of understanding. 

I smiled that night, at how love, once magical and etheral soon transforms. It reminds me of a budding flower. It blossoms until it is the beauty of the garden. The birds pay homage. And the trees bow in admiration.

Soon enough, it wilts with the rising of fifth sun. Till all is left is a stalk, a reminiscence of what have been before. A dull ache. 

We realize that it takes more than just love to make a marriage. We see that even the most powerful love can brittle with age. And fade with the time. Until we wonder if it was ever there or just a figment of our imagination.  

Image by Piqsels

I wondered what my love will look like. If it will be like magic? Sure like the strokes of an artist. If it will dawn on me like the morning? Or if it will strike like lightning flash? I wonder if it will still fade. If I will wail or weep sliently?

The truth is that we all want Love. To love and be loved. We want marital bliss. Another 'truer' truth is that we won't all get it. Yet, it doesn’t stop us from trying, from wishing for a soulmate. The warm embrace of a loved one. 

I hope you find that kind of love. The kind that lasts. 

Until then, I look forward to hearing your love story.

To every Rose that grew from Concrete; Blossom!