As we sat in a crowded mall, I addressed the many problems in our relationship. He assured me nothing was going on with, ‘that girl’ and that I was being delusional. He told me it was I, who he wanted to be with. He told me his dreams about marrying me, having his kids and settling down. His words replaced the scripture. His affection was my religion and I just couldn’t let go. It was everything I’ve been waiting for. My ears were pleased, my heart was faithful, but my mind knew better.

We took the train home together, exchanging lustful glares and passionate prose. I asked him to come over later. He quickly answered my request and said, ‘Yes’. I was floating as I walked through the night’s fog. I got home to perform the ritual of shaving and preparing for his presence. In the darkness my phone illuminated the room. It was a text from him displaying that he was on his way. I opened the door with a robe on and my hair in a bun. We tip-toed upstairs as we passed my sister’s room. Before I had the chance to lock my door, he was already on his knees.

He carried me to the bed and undressed me with his anxious hands. I unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants. I lay there looking in his slanted eyes as he slid inside. My eyes were watching God! His heavenly demeanor transcended my mortality. He broke me down and stripped me of sin. He cleansed my body as our souls kissed and took flight to a height unimagined.

This night of darkness, transformed into milk and honey. Our kindred spirits ascended. My legs wrapped around his head like a crown. He was my King, my God! Tears started to fall as I began to cream. I swarmed him with my dew, as he devoured my honey. He worshiped my innocent frame as I entered an immaculate peace. My head lay on his chest as he played with my unkempt hair. The night turned into day before our very eyes. It was morning and he had to go back home.

Lust left my mind and clarity quickly entered. His lips were sweet but his soul was bitter. I kept pouring myself into a man who only filled me with tears.

The days passed and weeks began to form. I found out ‘that girl’ was more than a friend and I was made to be the fool.

My period was late. I couldn’t eat, and sleep became a memory. I blamed stress until I went to the pharmacy and took a pregnancy test. A faded blue line appeared as I slid my back against the washroom stall. Little did I know what the future had in store for me.

I called to tell him the news. He told me he didn’t want to be involved. He said, “I’m young, that’s your baby, not mine. I have other priorities. Take care.” I contemplated suicide, abortion and entered depression. In the midst of his absence I found the value that once escaped me. I didn’t need a man to validate my worth or add meaning to my existence. I would spend the next nine months tending to the precious life inside my womb – alone. He denied our existence while he proclaimed his innocence.

Wanna Jean
Pitched Entry