In my second year of Uni, I met this cute, portable sized boy. We happened to be in the same faculty and would often run into each other. We started to hang and a little sparky-sparky was born between us. However, for some technical reasons, we stayed platonic.
Few years down the line, I ran into him at a concert. We exchanged contact but never really stayed in touch. We sort of just kept up with each other based on what the other was posting on social media. One day, we sparked up a conversation and he suggested we hangout sometime. A couple of old friends catching up. No biggie, right?
We went to the cinema, grabbed some fast food after, talked about the past, present and future. I had fun and didn’t realize just how much I needed to laugh amidst the chaos my life was at that time. It was why when he invited me out a second time, I lapped up the offer. This time it was to his company’s end of the year party.
Here is the thing, in my heart of heart, I wasn’t totally comfy with it. I mean, you naturally invite your spouse to that sort of thing, right? But I still carried my big head and went because my boring ass life needed some action. We had unlimited fun at the party but had to leave abruptly because his team was playing that evening and he needed to catch up with the second half of the match.
We found a pizza spot, settled in and in no time I was engrossed in the game. I was rooting and cheering for the opposing team even though I don’t care much for football. During the extra time, my team substituted one of their players. I turned to him and said, “This guy they brought in is going to score a last minute goal. Just watch. ” He scoffed and said the match would end at a draw.
Turned out my jazz was strong. The subbed player did score and my friend’s team lost. He was pissed and I wasn’t even helping with my laughing spree. As we got to the parking lot, he grabbed me by the neck, pinned me to the car and was like, “stop laughing.” Before I could process the death grip on my neck, he leaned in and kissed me. It was an angry kiss at first and then it turned really…really gentle. That’s how local girl lost her senses and kissed him back. Father Lord!
Don’t yet stone me slippers o. Please just be calming down. I can totally explain this entaglemnet. But let’s get back to the gist.
By the time he pulled away and common sense flew back into my body, this witchy voice whispered in my ear. “Yemi, you just kissed a married man. You are one of them now.” I felt this chill course through my body. Ewo. Are you saying I’m now one of those girls in Joro’s dms? It was a scary thought. But breaking a moral code was the least of my worries.
“How many people saw us?” “What if one of them was his wife’s friend?” “What if they had taken a picture?” “Would she come with boys to beat me up”? “Would they pour acid on my face?” “Would they come and tear my clothe in public?” “Will I end up on instablog?”
My heart was just doing tum tum. Heaven knows I’m such a wuss. I do not like altercations. I can’t throw fists. I hate exchanging words. Here I was sitting in the car, guilty as sin but still trying to play it cool. Then I heard the voice of a thousand people chanting, “If you have an affair with a married man, other girls will have an affair with your husband.”
Lobatan. “Hollup, first of all this doesn’t even qualify as an affair. It was just a kiss!” I protested.
“But don’t all affairs start with ‘just a kiss?'” they teased.
I felt bad. I could feel my stomach drop. Lord God, I’ve messed up, init? I don’t want my husband kissing another girl in a parking lot on a Saturday night or any night for that matter. *insert tears*
That night I got home and promised myself never to meet the guy again. Now that we have locked lips, I didn’t trust myself not to compromise if I find myself in the same space as him. The truth is, I didn’t leave home with any alterior motives. Zilch. Nada. None. But I think I wasn’t totally honest with myself either.
The first time we hung out together, he made me feel good about myself. I wanted to experience that feeling again. What I failed to realise was that something had unlocked on the inside of me. I was subconsciously enamored by our time together. I justified going for the office party. I justified following him to see the match when I should have headed home instead. Little little justifications. It’s how people end up justifying the big things.
When I hear women complaining about their husbands being close friends with single women or any woman for that matter, I don’t even blame them. I could have been part of the statistics. I’m not claiming good girl but I have a conscience that is thankfully functional.
As long as a man has a penis and woman has a vagina, things can happen. Don’t be forming hard person. Even the Bible says take heed lest ye fall. It’s not like you planned to start an affair o, but because we are emotional beings, accidents would happen. And then it would happen again. And again. Affair don start be that.
I’m not saying people of the opposite sex cannot be close friends, but you have to be very honest with yourself. Am I harbouring secret sparks for this person? Can I be trusted not to lose guard if I find myself in a compromising situation with this person? Do we have history that might want to resurface at some point?
I kissed a married man and it felt really good. You know why? Emotions do not respect marital status one kobo. That’s why you need to create boundaries my dears. C.R.E.A.T.E B.O.U.N.D.A.R.I.E.S. You see all that “oh he’s just a friend, nothing can happen, she’s just a friend nothing can happen”, woh that’s the devil playing ludo with your brain. My friend, jikulumessu. Open your eye.
Now that we’ve all agreed there would be no judging, have you found yourself in such situation before? How did you go about handling it?
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