For him religion was not affected.
It was not dirty, or suspicious, or pure, or sacred. It simply was what he enjoyed, and so he did it as he wished, and often and as deeply as he liked, without neither obligation nor guilt, nor seriousness nor folly.
‘I’m certainly atheist’, he would laugh lightly, while asking me to return to the choir in his next sentence. ‘The music is so good, I love it’. But I could not merely rejoin a choir I had quit for many conflicted reasons; how could something so heavy for me be so light for him? How was my cross his plaything?
And perhaps this was why I liked his ways, and perhaps it was never magic like I thought, but never had I met a person like this before in my life! And so he did feel like magic, so easy, so fluid, so free. And free was the last thing I was at the moment, with all my lies and the second guessing and guilt for not feeling guilty. How could he maneuver and meander through something that wound me so tightly? How could he be free in my chains?
So that was the magic. And at that time in my life, Lord knows I needed some magic. And so he brought it, all of it. In the form of mint tea leaves and strangely ethereal fiddle-playing folk, back massages, stolen apricots and pussy-eating that could make one cry. I wondered often, when I lay in his exhausted arms after fucking too hard, if this was some kind of game God was playing on me. How was it that I was so content in this sin, that I was especially allured by his no-strings-attached-God policy? All my life, I had been taught to fear two things most: sex and people who didn’t believe in God; but here I was, all tangled up in these blasphemous legs, screaming to Jesus that it never stopped.
When he left there was a dull ache in my head.
Had I been so fond of him, had he touched me so well? My mind could never really understand what had happened, but that was how it was with him, you know? You never really knew what was happening, but it just felt so good, so pure and you never lacked, and you never needed, and you could sit naked in an empty bed listening to faint guitar croonings as birds chirped, feeling so whole, so whole. My empty arms ached and my body breathed longingly for his lips.
I knew I would never see him again, but he was real, and he was the lover of my soul.
9 comments On ‘The Lover of my Soul’ by Guest Contributor Frema
I read this story while listening to a God song. I was very conflicted,lool.
Listen girl, what happened is that you were forked right! Sooooo right as per my understanding of your tale that any and all sensibilities are out the window. If the forking is this good till we are listening to birds in the early morn chirping eh it’s a motherforking wrap! I’m proposing. And he will say yes by force.
But, I think Ekuba can help me with this assessment!
@ AM: lol AM, you’re one crazy woman! hahaha. if the forking is good…’it’s a motherfucking wrap’ etc. that’s hilarious.
@Frema: I can really identify with what you wrote. I grew up in a very spiritual house, got ‘born again’ at age 12 & by the time I was in my 20s (before my wild days began lol) I was always in one church meeting or the other. Church was my life. I was so committed in my church that I was handpicked to work in the pastor’s office & what followed is a whole blog post but suffice it to say, I have never felt further from any form of spiritual peace than when i worked in that office. the depth of hypocrisy, judgmental-ism & lack of love that I uncovered while working there caused me to move very far away from the church. For months afterwards, I couldn’t even go to any church. I’m saying I identify with you because before I left, I felt very conflicted about dating ‘Tony’ (not real name & I’ve blogged about him before) who was the love of my life. It was the first & only relationship I was in that we were 99% compatible. The 1% point of incompatibility was that he didn’t believe in my religious views. After I confessed to my pastor that I had been ‘fornicating’ with Tony, he advised me to break up with him because Tony was an ‘unbeliever’ & ‘leading me down the wide road to destruction’. So I broke it off with him & he’s now dating this woman I hate (I call her Miss Evil hahaha) & there are rumors they’re going to get married next year. Whew! What I can say is that I genuinely believe that what is supposed to happen, will happen. If you were (are) meant to be with the love of your life then you wold (will).I didn’t use to, but now I believe in love & the goodness of God/ the universe. I wholeheartedly believe that I will meet & marry the love of my life before I die. & I also believe that it’s good that you met him & I met Tony. Sometimes, when you’re caught up in religiosity, it’s good to meet others who teach you to focus on the spiritual & not the religious. I think for those of us who are of Christian orientation, we should keep meditating on the fact that Jesus found it more comfy to hang with prostitutes & tax collectors, eat at their house etc. than to hang with the priests of his day. Sometimes, those we are taught are ‘destined to hell’ are actually closer to the spiritual truth (with all their flaws) than bigoted pastors etc.
@Frema – This post had me all up in my feelings. So well written. So evocative. It’s everything. Desire tinged with sadness mixed with questioning. You have a real gift for writing. Please send us more and more posts
I love love love the way you write. Marry me. Let’s make beautiful little sentences together.
Well now! What can I say. All this forking. Na wa o!
@nnenna thank youuu! I’m a fan of your work 🙂
@ekuba i read your post about Tony! I’m in the process of separating religiosity from spirituality. I’m not at the point where I think God is a really good God, but it’s still good, really really good.
@Nana Darkoa thank you! will do
wee little little sentencelets.. some will be burnished with a coppery sheen, others will gleam silver in the noonday sun.. but all of them will have little locs oiled in subtle essences, yes, marry me!
I love your writing.
Great writing! I love it.