Continued from previous post.
I loved Bola with all my heart. I have never felt what i felt with him, with anyone. He was my soul mate. Bola knew the right things to tell me at any time. He just didn’t understand why I had to have my last meal at 7pm and wake up early the next morning to go running.
He said, I needed to be soft as a woman. Not muscular. Not strong. Not overly fit.
I began to pray (Im very African- I believe in the spiritual). I prayed God will touch my darling’s heart, to see my dreams.
It seemed like my prayers were being answered, because Bola stopped complaining. He just stopped saying anything. I was happy. I intensified my exercise routine. I was very ‘gingered’.
One day, Bola came to see me in my city, we went out for dinner, and I had just a steak and a glass of wine. And I honestly couldn’t take in more. I was so full. Bola was upset, that I wasn’t eating. I made him understand that I had trained my body to accept very little food. That seemed to upset him.
He asked why do i want to be a man? Strong body and all. He said I wasn’t pretty any more. That i do not respect him and his wishes. He said so many things that night.
As we got home, we got into an argument. Thinking about it now, it was a realy flimsy argument. But then, in the heat of it all, He slapped me.
For a minute or more, I felt I had transcended to heaven or something, because I was having conversation with angels….Yes, that is how heavy that slap was.
To be continued.