IF WE EVER GET MARRIED… A decade and six years ago, I had this imaginary person I loved so deeply. Someone I had found, yet never seen a solace after long, sometimes dramatic days. Someone to chitchat with in the quiet corners of my mind. I described him like characters in movies; Hollywood mostly. If he was the handsome hero, then he became my imaginary portrait. As time passed, I would wrap myself up in a double sofa, close my eyes, and imagine he was right there beside me. Sometimes I wondered if I was abnormal… or maybe every girl had this feeling and just never spoke about it. I did not know, or perhaps, I did not know how to know. Funny, “know how to know.” I was so attached to him that when my teenage hormones began to bloom, reality tapped me on the shoulder. I realized I needed to be realistic. He wasn’t real. So I took it upon myself to look for him. How toxic. In my dreams, he was more Asian. In my mind, he was the loveliest doctor– a surgeon. In reality, I wavered for a coo...
Chidimma Writes is a home for words that breathe; poetry, stories, and reflections on life’s quiet and stormy moments. A space where imagination meets emotion
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