Another Saturday is here and it makes me miss her the more. I am sitting at the windows and eating the morning sun rays. That's where she normally would come behind me and ask in her melodious voice, "what would you take for breakfast besides the sun" and we both would discharge those funny laughs. Sometimes I turned my head to grab her lips for our first kiss of a Saturday, other days she would deposit her head on my shoulders, resting all her conscious heart, knowing well that she was safe in the shoulders of a beloved one. With me she said she had no worries and could spend her entirety only sleeping in my heart.
"Cliffy" that was how she called me and no one else dared called me same, she would scream at the person and say "please am the only one who calls him by that name and don't ask me why because the answer lies in our hearts"
She made life seem like the ones the characters in an Indian love movie lived. I didn't have to worry about anything for everything she would turn into a music.
I miss her everyday but it gets worse on Saturdays night. It either began in my room or hers. She would send me a whatsapp message "Am taking care of the night" and though I will be happy I would intentionally reply "my dear No, you can't spend on me, am the man"...."come on, then am not going, lest I do the spending tonight", she would respond and I would jump to the ceiling, convinced that my last ghc20 was safe for the next week.
She would turn swiftly like a model and ask me "hey how do I look?" I would clip my thumb to the next finger and place it on my lips and cut it across to say " perfect". You know my dear, one thing is true and it is that I am proud of the woman in you and outside you. Beauty.......heerrh stop it there, she would cut in. "If I don't stop you we will end up in another poetry performance in this room" she would say and burst into laughter. "But my dear, am proud of you as a Poet" she quickly would add.
She had this taxi driver friend, she would call her and away we gone to our favourite spot. We sit over sticks of khebab and some many bottles of assorted drinks.
We would drink and talk heartily, at some minutes we laughed, others we would discuss more serious issues which mostly included our education, life after school, our flamboyant marriage and our sweet unborn kids. We knew the gender of our kids and we always named them. I remember one night she said our first born would be Doreen and I questioned if it came a boy and she said, have faith, we want a girl first born and we broke into that our lovely laughs which called attention from the surrounding customers. A gentle walked to us and in a broad smile said "we have been watching you guys from our table and it is interesting, you guys make a happy couple" and we laughed.
We had smart wrist watches but we always measured time with the moon, just because we both loved playing with our predictions and anytime she won it generated another 'I woonnn, I won hits and teases' and I would play the cool gentle loser game.
Our Saturdays would normally end in a deep sleep on her bed. Her hostel was the one for rich students, one-in-a room. For mine, we slept six-in-a room and that was when we didn't have anyone perching.
We would sleep like loons and wake up when the sun had taken over from the moon. She would wake me up and serve me a breakfast on bed. And said it is Sunday, do what you know I would want my man to do.
Let me stop here I only wanted you to know a Saturday with my a friend who left me without a word about her whereto
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