funeral for him
If I remember well, my A-level was one time in my life crowned with a lot of boy drama and relationship switches. Being the kind of girl who talked to many guys, many mistook my friendly gestures as being a girl in multiple relationships.
Out of the three quaky relationships I may have been involved in, the last and final one still lingers in my mind to this day. It changed me. All of a sudden my noisy annoyingly friendly nature gave way to a quiet and withdrawn me - all because of love.
Peter was this guy that everyone quite admired owing to the fact that he was the best dancer in the school and the president of the interact club. We used to meet and talking to each other much to the gossip of the whole school.
We never shared a lot in common but I was overwhelmed by the fact that I had gained the attention of one of the school â€˜celebritiesâ€™.
Little did I know that I was just one of his bets as I came to realise later through one of his best friends, after our break up.
A month after knowing him, we had finished exams and we were free to linger around the compound as the school administration threw us a number of parties and organised film shows almost every evening. That is around the time I lost my sister, the one I followed.
When I was told, my first reaction was â€˜why did she die at a time when I have a good thing going on?â€™
Anyway, I had to go for burial as culture dictated, but while at the funeral I thought of Peter. Now, donâ€™t get me wrong. I did mourn my big sister but Peter just couldnâ€™t give way to her in my mind.
Immediately after the burial, I insisted on going back to school despite the fact that we had finished the end of year exams. My father was well aware of this fact but he let me go, although he wrote me off as inconsiderate.
On reaching school, laden grief over my sisterâ€™s death, I found that Peter had quickly substituted me for another girl in the interact club. Of course my whole class and friends knew that I had lost a sister and were also wondering what had brought me back to school at the end of the term.
Then they figured it out. Meanwhile, in addition to avoiding me, Peter started acting as though I was a great embarrassment to him. Of course I felt so bad, judging the â€˜sacrifice I had made for the relationshipâ€™.
I felt bad but had to hang in there and look out and wait for his next victim.
In the name of love