Dear Chris, the girl of my dreams, I hope this letter finds you well. I
must confess that I have been stalking you on Instagram and
Facebook. You still look just as beautiful as the high school girl I
knew four years ago or even better now. Probably you have heard an
infinite number of men describe you as beauteous but what I want
you to know is that they were right in their observation.
My childhood crush, I have always fantasized about you as my cupid
superhero. The one, who would be there to catch me as I fall in love
and be there for me as the depth of my fall increases. To rescue and
shield me from the wiles and darts sent against my heart.
I recall when I first met you in a dream and this dream, I was on my
way to Sonop which is in the southern arid parts of Zimbabwe. I fell
for you the very first time I saw you through the fear of waking up
before I could declare my affection to such a beauty took hold over
me. Nevertheless, I fought so hard to stay in the reality of the dream and not allow this fear to overshadow my hope for love and the
fulfillment of dreams, long dreamt.
Meeting you remains one of the best things that has ever happened to
me. How I wish I could have stayed in this dream to a time past
eternity. Vividly, I recall your buxom figure in transit through my
eyes but now I can only imagine how beautiful your countenance
was. Words alone in my poems can never transcribe the beauty
embedded in your being. Juxtaposing this dream and the wake of it
brings the injustice that the dream presented to me. Guilty would it
be charged with misrepresentation of information?
In this dream, I was a secret agent on a mission to rescue kids that
had been assumed to be kidnapped in Sonop. It being my first time to
be on that side of the country, I had to ask my way around to know
where to start with my conquest. Homesteads were generally spaced
that I could walk for about 2 kilometers before I get to the next house.
Fear of getting lost in the gloomy forests grew over me, yes, my fears
of getting lost were so real that I felt fortunate when I found myself
lost in love.
I found a long narrow path that was passing through a gorge to the
fountain. This was a place where women sat enjoying the crispy air
of winter whistling like an invisible ghost and the sunlight would
make this time of the year so enjoyable in these arid places. As I
moved closer to the well, I witnessed heroine mothers and sisters,
hardworking and determined as they walked up and down the road of
life which looked unbearable to me. A woman would walk for more
than a mile to fetch water with a baby clutched on her back. Before
all that, the fields will be waiting to be freed from its weed, chores at
home with her name scribed all over, not to mention the hungry
children waiting to be fed.
Maybe I should have done something since I called myself a gamechanger but on this day I wasn't worried about a thing but my
mission. I wanted nothing but to investigate and go. Quick and
dashing was I but in the blink of the eye, I found myself gazing on
this amazing lady sitting on a bucket facing the northern side of the
fountain, it was you. "Wasn't I in a hurry to my mission rescue now
that I am here staring at her gorgeousness?" I asked myself.
Reluctantly, love at first glance had struck me.
You weren't that vibrant, but your gentle voice relaxed my spirit, and
to think of it, that's probably why any girl around you had to listen to
your stories. I could see their attention at a distance, with all eyes
staring at you, with all ears set to listen. There I was now, having to
take cover into the bush for me to encode your beauteous face once
more and those velvety eyelashes. Your round eyes, as radiant and
beautiful as a night sky full of stars.
"This is not happening," I told myself as I was moving around the
bushes looking for an angle to see your face, which happened for a
long time before I got tired. I then sat on a rock nearby a tree, took
out my pen and a paper from my backpack. With my pen and paper,
I began to write a poem with your encoded being so vivid in my mind
and now I couldn't think of anything but you.
It was an acrostic poem. I didn't know your name but as I was
listening to you and your colleagues talking, I captured Christine and
I knew exactly that it was you. The poem was written on top, "That's
all I can say" and until that time, I didn't know that I was a poet. It
was beautiful as I read it again and again, it turned out to be one of
the best poems I have ever written in my lifetime. It was the first
poem I wrote but still, I can't just compare to any of the poems, the
art, it was just out of this world. Your name made the lines that my creativity alone was never going to make. With you, my pen bled,
smeared my paper with words untold.
One moment is me, being pushed to come out of hiding and speak to
you to soothe my heart, fear of the unknown gripped me and held me
back. When you stood and lifted the bucket, placed it on your head, I
stood there with heart ablaze as I watched you walk away. You are
exactly what God meant when He created everything and said, "It is
good." Your back looked curvaceous and the flamboyant dress that
you were donning helped in punctuating your voluptuous figure.
Your beautiful curves wiggled seductively. I wished I could just
come out of the bush and scream, "Girl you are amazing."
You left me with nothing but a burning sensation all over my being
and your name which I got from the eavesdropping, all over my head.
Of course, I couldn't leave without proper confirmation of who you
were, so I gathered my courage to approach the remnant of the girls,
pretty much less work since you had left with your intense presence
that would bring my heart to a halt.
"The lady that has just left in a cream dress and purple blazer, do you
happen to know her?" I conversed with one of the girls.
"You mean Christine?"
"Honestly I don't know her name." I giggled as I said this because I
wasn't much of a good liar.
My heart skipped for a moment upon receiving this confirmation. Not
only was her beauty splendid to the eyes, even her name bonded with
my heart. "Of course her name was Christine," I said to myself.