Chris Ihidero Unedited: Falling in love

By Chris Ihidero

When I Fall In Love…
Please sing with me:
Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can’t help
Falling in love with you
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
For I can’t help
Falling in love with you…
Unlike many people who are good at falling in love easily, falling in love for me is always monumental.  When I fall in love my world rattles, a minor tsunami occurs in my heart and I prance around like a festive drumstick; subtlety isn’t a consideration where the matters of the heart are concerned, in my book. It was therefore no surprise that I fell madly in love with Ms Christy.
Ms Christy was cute and dark-skinned. She had dimples on both cheeks. She spoke softly, with a comely smile that often left my heart racing. Her lips were permanently pouty; the lower lip was naturally pink. She was shapely in a way that nothing was exaggerated: her arse was well rounded and quiet noticeable but did not protrude in way that you might be tempted to place a cup of coffee on it. Her breasts were like little rosebuds, carefully sculptured and gently placed on her chest by divine hands. They didn’t always require a brassiere and she obliged by often going without one; this is the gospel truth, as I confirmed by looking through her sleeveless gown/blouse or catching a quick glimpse through her neckline whenever she bent to pick something up.
Ms Christy was the class teacher of Primary 5B. I was in Primary 5A, but always found myself in her class. Every single time Ms Christy turned around to write on the board, a minor crisis ensued in my life. Watching her derriere was too much to bear; her sexiness as she moved about, the easy motion of her cute body, the sweetness of her smile…whenever she looked directly at me to ask that I answer a question, I swam in her gaze, a little stiffness erupting down south.
I fell heavily in love with Ms Christy, all 9 years of me. She was my first true love. Later, when our love had grown (in my mind, at least), I found out that Mr Idowu, a married man and the school’s Assistant Headmaster was illegally sleeping with Ms Christy, and I experienced my first heartbreak. There were tearful nights and moody days. I stopped going to her class, and when I went I refused to answer any questions! I kept a permanent frown on my 9 year old face. She didn’t seem to notice so I called it quits with her and went back to my girlfriend, Busola, who I had been dating since Primary 4. Toasting her was pretty easy. I simply walked up to her one afternoon with a massive frown on my face and declared: “I love you, do you love me?” A combination of fear and uncertainty ensured that she responded in the affirmative, especially as I had attempted to let my fists have a rapid dialogue with her cousin’s face just a few days earlier.
Ms McJob was my next true love. While Ms Christy was petite, Ms McJob was tall and slim. While the former had rosebuds on her chest, the latter had jugs, massive jugs. I was in JSS 2 and she was my French teacher. I fell miserably in love at first sight. I had loathed every French class since primary school, but with Ms McJob in the picture I loved the subject instantly! (Little wonder I still find girls that speak French attractive.) I emerged the overall best student in French in 2nd term and Ms McJob was so ecstatic she gave me a hug. I wanted to die! My head must have rested on her bosom a fraction longer than she anticipated.
My affair with Ms McJob came to a sudden end and my world came crashing down once again when I discovered that the T.D (Technical Drawing) teacher, Mr. Adebisi was her real world BF.  I sulked silently as Mr. Adebisi was not someone to mess with. Even the most hardened students trembled at the mere mention of his name. His caning was legendary.
To be truthful, I hadn’t exactly been faithful to both Ms Christy and Ms McJob. I cheated on both of them at some point during our relationships. I fell in love with Whitney Houston first and then Yvonne Chaka Chaka. They sang me to sleep on many lonely nights and they were going to wait for me to grow up and then we’d get married. But Whit (that’s what I call her…) went ahead and married that SOB. Now she’s doing Ray J! Such poor choices…
Please sing with me again:
Love doesn’t ask why
It comes all at once
Never explains
Don’t you know that love
Doesn’t think twice
It can come all at once
Or whisper from a distance…