With Kelvin, everything seemed easy; it was like being alive again. It was different. This time I was cautious and scared—scared I was leading him on and cautious of getting hurt. After the kiss, he became more than sweet to me. I swear, this was the nicest a guy had ever treated me. He bought me all kinds of gifts; during my cramps, he would make sure packets of painkillers were on my bedside drawers, and he would act up by bringing me anything I wanted. He was different—some other kind of different. Despite being authoritative and possessive, he knew what I wanted at the right time, minute, and hour. He just did everything a girl would dream of. From chocolates to night outs, dates to watching stars—I don't know what those words mean—but yeah, that's how I felt about him; Heartfelt, reasonable, and never seizing to care what others said.
It had been the second week since Kelvin had officially requested me to be his girlfriend, which I accepted. I did it because I thought Kelvin had potential, was overly friendly to me, and was genuine, which I desperately needed in a lover. His love for taking me on adventures made me yearn more off him; I wanted him by my side, feelings aside. The difference was that other emotions were burning inside me: I was bored, needed company, and was horny. Honestly, I have not confirmed with my heart about all these, but my mind sure knew this was the guy I needed, and my heart had no choice but to oblige. All I knew was that I couldn't lose him, for he had everything a lady would want in a man, and the most incredible bonus was that he knew how to treat his lady well.
Kelvin and I had become inseparable. We went to school together, and he usually slept over at my house. It was all the glamour of high school love. I knew a lot about him: what had led to his family's decision for him to study here; how much he adored his little sister and would kill anyone who ever played with her; his love for football; and his favorite foods, sushi and pizza. His hatred for failure and wasting a minute or a certain amount of time showed that he sure had a lot of likes and dislikes. Having sex was not a topic to discuss because we both needed it. We therefore agreed on doing it once or twice a week. All I knew was that I needed it; it was a desire, some burning, that I felt inside, and I would solemnly liken it to some hoedown days. The difference was that one guy satisfied my desires, which he solemnly obliged; the only issue with him was that he always teased me after the act, which felt awkward.
Right now, I am in the studio about a podcast. The lecturer had chosen our podcast to be represented on the school radio and posted on the school's YouTube channel. The main topic was home; coming from different backgrounds and continents to meet each other in a certain place does not mean you are at home. Home is still home. We talked about the topic, which brought up distinct discussions between the radio presenter and us; he tried to sense out that some strangers can become home, but one thing I knew was that strangers could turn on you anytime. Despite the talks, arguments, and disagreements, our podcast session ended, and we were invited to join the next week again. In the end, I was allowed to advertise my book and solicit any reviews or criticisms for a better book the following day. Kelvin had also aided in promoting my book; he had distributed it to various schools in town and overseas to his home in Georgia, so I was starting to get quite handsome financial returns. Writing that book was just a case of tossing a coin; I had two probable answers: don't or do well; I did.
After the podcast, Kelvin had been waiting for me, so I went straight to him, and we left together. "That podcast was powerful; I never knew you were so eloquent at speaking; you should do that more, especially since I see your people are very happy about you." Kevin stated and I wondered: What kind of people did he talk about? When he realized my silence, with him driving, he requested that I open the YouTube channel on which the school had posted the podcast. I had stated that Spotify would be a good idea, but the lecturer insisted on YouTube, with which one can't argue with an experienced professor. There were so many comments, some saying they were my classmates, others saying at least she acknowledges us, and other stories. Despite wanting to leave the comment session, one certain comment caught my eye. It was written in italics: "I knew you would make it; it was like a flip of the switch.'
I recognized those words; perhaps it was someone I remembered. "Is there something? What is wrong?" Kelvin asked, with which I arguably and quickly stated nothing. I locked my phone lock screen and continued watching the road as Kelvin drove. 'I wonder where he is taking me today.' We then drove into a certain school compound and parked in the parking lot. "This school wants me to give a speech about life and politics; I want you to advertise your book and talk to students about life; you know, life changer." Those words left me surprised. Why didn't he tell me earlier to prepare a speech? Anyway, we were here and needed to talk to the students. I saw Kelvin talking to the watchman, with whom they came hand in hand, and he opened the car's boot as I walked out. Wow. He had bought so many biscuits and sweets, and for the students; candies were also there, as were cakes, and I was pessimistic if it would be enough for the students.
When we entered the school, we noticed it was extremely well-organized, with the administration building beautifully constructed with stones and a glassy front. The head of the school was quite happy to meet him; they seemed to know each other so well as if they had been together for a long time. The electric bell rang for the students, and it was sudden that they all came to a certain hall, where we were asked to sit in the front row. Honestly, I had been nervous since Kelvin had given me the news. I am sure he knew I was nervous because he placed his hand on mine and rubbed it gently using his thumb. After the students were seated, one of the seniors asked Kelvin to come up front, and everyone started screaming. It seemed he had been there before. Kelvin introduced himself and called upon me. Despite being nervous, I stood and greeted everyone and introduced myself when I heard them whisper, 'she's the author... no, his girlfriend.' I shoved all that aside and just sat down. Kelvin's speech is always heartwarming, engaging, and friendly, catching off all life aspects within the same context. For instance, he talked about politics, family, race differences, climate, and love within the same context. He realized that I was nervous and did not call upon me to give a speech but spoke on my behalf. He introduced my book to the students and teachers who seemed to know what it was about, and for the first time, I saw Kelvin's impact in my life; he had become a light in my darkness, and I was confident he would make me financially stable. I had never even taken my book back home. I wonder how many would be willing to buy it, but that is a small matter. After Kelvin's speech, we were requested to stay for supper, but Kelvin politely declined, stating we had hours of driving to deal with, so we left.
Meeting a good person is never a bargain. My mom always told me that good things never come twice; life changes, and people break them. I never felt sorry for Kelvin like I did today when he was delivering the speech about me, and how he described me was as if he had read every page of me and analyzed it to extension. He sure never deserved me. For the first time, I felt scared, not scared of anything but of hurting or losing him. I had neither confirmed nor engaged with my feelings since leaving my hometown. I felt nothing, and if there was something I felt, it was some yearning for something one could provide, just some yearning, and I knew that would never be love. Kelvin loved me for all eternity and back—I don't know, but he did. He always sent me pictures of houses and would write the caption 'for us dearest.' I never knew what "us" meant; I knew I was with him. For the first time, I would call myself unworthy of someone. I had let him dive too deep to the extent he saw and created a great future with me. While my mind replays all this, I am looking at his picture, which is so innocent, one that can't hurt someone. Well, my obnoxious, crazy mind replies, 'We can stay; we still feel a little bit for him; of which it was true somehow; he is good; he provides everything we need; he markets our books; what else do we want other than that?' And so be it, was the conclusion.
Well, love is what it is. A month had passed since the event, Kelvin and I were doing great, cats had already begun, and lastly, one person was disturbing my peace. The second week after the podcast, an unknown email sent me a mail: "Hey, it's me" the email address was more of a business address: creators567@gmail.com. That was the mail that sent me the three words. I told no one; I would never tell Kelvin because he is always overly jealous of me, to the extent he can beat someone to death. I did not care much since the mail did not send anything else; I wanted to check the location of the mail, but for the first time, my mind gave me a good decision: 'Not worth it,' and so I ignored it. Despite my efforts to ignore it, it remained in my mind. Who is this person?
Today is another visit to the podcast; this time, many radio stations have been sending us emails to join them with some good tokens of support. So, we will have a productive time, and I might start a good career here in the United Kingdom. We finished our first topic and started on another one about campus love. As you all know, this love has distinct terminologies and ideas for different people; some engaged listeners stated that the love was fake and people loved the things you offered them more than who you are. Concerning quantitative analysis, 70% of people who engaged with us stated that campus love creates room for unending pain. Others said it is all about being optimistic and accepting that people have the right to leave, love, and hate at any moment; it's part of life but worse is we solemnly feel more pain as the act exceeds our expectations. Lastly, a few stated that people should not love at all on campus, for there is no point; the point is that money is all that matters in relationships today, and if you have none, there is no point. Those were the basis and analytics of the live podcast session. For the first time, I felt sorry for those who have been heartbroken to the extent they can't feel the touch of love nor sense it.
After the session, we left with Eva from the WBHM radio station, who had selected a topic for us to discuss. Eva was from Birmingham, so she knew the positives and negatives of the area. She always enlightened me about the place, and most time, she showed me some pictures of the area's ancient past. I see Eva more as a partner; we have never engaged in chip chat about personal life; all I know about her is that she once dated a boy in our class named Felix, which did not end well, I presume because one of them betrayed the other with a friend. It was some time ago, and I was still trying to fit in with the new surroundings. Today, however, she amazed me with her argument about love. We are so different. The way she said that campus love is living for the moment made me enjoy listening to her; she was a real partner. Kelvin had offered his car and provided us with a driver to reach us at the radio station, which was quite far from the institution. He could not make it because he had some campaigning for the school at the University of Leeds. They called upon university student leaders to protect the people's demands and provide light for the state government regarding student affairs, including passports and hospitality for overseas students.
Reporting or talking on the radio was never an important attribute for me. I never saw myself speaking at a radio station about a certain issue, but luckily, the school had provided a gateway. One thing I hoped for was some permanent session being provided to us that meant signing a contract until a certain year. That was my hope, meaning I wanted to give my best for this so that at least they would honor us for our speech and eloquence. For the first time, I saw no pavement for going back home. My parents had already started nagging me to return home right after graduation, but I didn't see that happening soon. I was already working on publishing my second book, 'Gone. ' It was a book in which I solemnly talked about my leaving and resonating to start a new life somewhere far away.
The podcast had more listeners than we expected; fans all over the country were engaging in it, especially youths who solemnly streamed it. After two weeks, I started seeing the talk on Tik Tok and people posting the words on their Whatsapp status, and for the first time, a mail was sent to Ana and me by different stations requesting us to sign a contract with them. I had no idea whether this would be hard or soft, but this was, I would say, the easiest way one would get a contract for something, with which Kelvin shoved my thought aside and stated, "You deserved it." It was an eye opener, a chance, and an opened door; it was a call for a great future, but the question was whether I would ever go back home.