John Doe; The Iconic Wedding Night

I managed to fetch my phone as it rang repeatedly. It was 2:00am in the morning, such an ungodly hour I would not expect anyone to be calling or visiting. The sky was very dark that morning, the moon seemed to have been eerily swallowed in nothingness. It was Rina. Seriously? Not again! At least not this night I needed to flake out. My bedroom voice communed with her hushed tones. I couldn’t hear her as she crooned incoherently with a shrill voice. The only thing I heard was “Be a good boy, I still love you”.

Much thought I didn’t give to the statement; it was Rina who could profess love at every point in time. ‘She tore a leaf from ‘Juliet’s’ love books’, I would tease. The call ended abruptly and I consummated my tiredness with sleep. I woke up the next morning to find out that Rina called me with an international number, she had left the country. Shockingly, I saw a text on my phone which read thus: “I wished I could hold up a little longer but then I have to go. I hope I make it through this but in all, I want you to always realise that you would always mean the world to me.”

What comes with short messages is usually the uncertainty of what could have possibly been in the sender’s mind. Some days later, Rina died. Yes, she died. She was terribly ill and had to be sent out of the country for treatment. Rina was my school mate back then; my big time crush. She was amiable and adorable. Her fossette, her smile and altogether her ravishing beauty was ineffable. Somehow, I trifled with her emotions; please don’t judge me. I loved her a lot, as did she. We strained when we lost contact after school and even when we finally hooked up, I realised she never stopped loving me. On several occasions and to my knowledge, she would decline an avalanche of guys hitting on me just for me. Yet, I botched things up. We had fights, we had quarrels and I consequently took her emotions with a pinch of salt. I fluttered her dovecotes, tugged her heartstrings for no reason. As much as I tried to be good to her, I found myself always hurting her because I knew she loved me. #Drops a tear#

I got to realise she sent the text just on her death bed. While I slept with nothing on my mind, I was the last person she had in mind at death. I cried silently for weeks. The guilt was inestimable; the grief unbearable. I finally realised how much I loved her. I realised that her doting, caring and loving nature bolstered my ego and smouldered my senses not to know I loved her. Okay, you must be insulting me right now for being foolish but then, do you know how much guilt I already feel? Whenever we fell out, she would always tell me she loved me more. I never understood what she meant until she died.

Oh! Rina. As I sat on the balustrade at the balcony of my house, there came John Doe, my neighbour, a man in his fifties. John Doe told me about his ordeal, saying:
When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’ She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth but I had to let her know what I was thinking. ‘I want a divorce.’ I raised the topic calmly. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me about not being a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her! With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly.”

“Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now. The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again. In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage. This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request. I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully. My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office. On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her. On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me, she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart.
Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head. Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life lacked intimacy. I drove to office, jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind. I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, ‘Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.’ She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead.

‘Do you have a fever?’ she asked. I moved her hand off my head.

‘Sorry, Jane, I said, I won’t divorce my wife. My marriage was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.’

Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, ‘I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.’

That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I ran upstairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead. My wife had been fighting cancer for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce.at least, in the eyes of our son, I am a loving husband.

We could always tell ourselves that it doesn’t matter, so and so. Know this today, there are certain mistakes that cannot be undone. The best persons in our lives are never appreciated because we always feel “Oh yes, I am beautiful, I am handsome, I am smart, I deserve all the care and love in the world,” but the truth is that nobody owes you anything. Give credit to the person that does everything to make you smile, everything to fix things up and not to screw them. If someone stays with you after hurting them, they love you. Think about it, they are choosing pain over pleasure. I made a mistake that still haunts me till today but I have realised that some persons can only come once in life; Not even marriage brings the best persons to our lives. Those who do not consider what you have but constantly think of what they can do for you are angels in your life. Give them some credit. Being good hearted in a cruel world is not cowardice, it is bravery. Think about it. Love alone is worth the fight.

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About MR. POSSIBLE

My name is Destiny Osayi Ogedegbe. I'm a promising lawyer in training, a perspiring teacher and a despairing optimist. I have a knack for art, music and writing. I'm a deep writer and I believe in reaching the world through my pen. I believe in the fundamental interconnectedness of things; that True Love exists, that words control ultimately everything, that we are way better than people would have us believe; that people deserve to be enlightened.. I'm the Scribbler!
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