It is 11:30 in the evening and we are still talking. Honestly, I can hardly remember what kept us chatting long into the night on most days. I do know myself to be a boring chatting partner but a good writer (or at least that is what I like to believe). While the concept of love and relationships is something I hold dear, I do not consider myself as yet ready for the commitment and necessary work required to grow them. And yet love is the one theme that keeps finding itself in my writings, leading to some friends calling me Love Doctor when honestly, I am just a love student. That said, being a writer of love poems is never enough, you need someone to share them with and that is where she comes in. Annie Aidoo, a very beautiful female friend (okay, I know I say this about others too but it is true) is about 5.3 feet tall whereas I am about 5.9, a height difference that is well within my preference. She also happens to constantly wear a smile which I so much love to see and her voice, oh! that sweet voice can melt a hard heart but maybe not mine, simply not my heart, or is that what I like to believe?

After being introduced to each other by a mutual friend during his birthday ceremony, Annie made it a personal responsibility to keep checking up on me until we started addressing each other as friends. It is not that I did not want to be her friend (I would have easily ignored her calls if that was what I wanted), I just like my safe space- being alone in my room with my phone, some nice movies or books to read- and yet I do enjoy the company of the few friends that I have, I hold them really dear to my heart. Hence it should be of no surprise I was at the said ceremony in the first place rather than be at home. I once shared a poem with her which I had written before even getting to know her and her response was as though I had just written it, she said it seemed I wrote it for her. Funny right? I mean, how can I write a love poem for someone who I am still learning to call friend? It was this same poem though that started the chat that night.

I know this beautiful girl
She’s captivating actually
Tell me, what should I do with this feeling of joy she brings
She’s now always on my mind
I think I like her
But I cannot tell her

Kwame Obeng

Oh! Forgive my bad manner. I did not deem it necessary to have introduced myself, I guess I was hoping you could easily tell who I am from the story I am telling. Well, I am Kwame Obeng, the man with more love poems in his archive than love stories in his life. This poem was that trouble causer. But I guess she knew she just had to accept the fact that what I am saying is true, that I wrote this piece before I even got to know her and yet we kept talking into the night, about what I do not remember as I have already stated in the beginning. It was this particular day that our chats started becomig more frequent and sometimes even prolonged into the night like some two love birds which we are not.

I personally do not enjoy talking to one friend in the presence of another, even if I am to do so through a phone call. Thus, I would constantly leave the presence of my friends to go make a call with Annie. She on the other hand will be talking with me while a friend of hers is right there, with her. These acts from both of us, together with the fact that our talking was frequent and lasts long, resulted in our friends thinking we were dating. We would just tell them the truth as we both know it, we are just friends. I am someone who enjoys talking, just not with too many people, and she says she enjoys the company of male friends more than that of female friends. The truth is, all we really talk about is general and personal topics that I would talk about with any other friend, male and female alike: life, schooling, work, family, love, just any possible topic. And then there are those poems that I would send her: To My Dream Girl, A Portrait Of Love, and the list continues.

Maybe this is unexpected, I told her that I love her. When you have someone special who keeps communicating with you like she does with me, sometimes in the morning and other times late at night, you must fall in love. Okay, maybe not everybody will fall in love under such circumstances but I will, I did. I know we are just supposed to be friends and enjoying each other’s company but love cannot be controlled, can it? I mean, judging from all the time we have spent together, she must have fallen in love with me too, right? Well, she told me that she is actually dating someone, they have been together all this while. This strange man (the one she is dating) is even known by her uncle who loves her like his own daughter. It has become a very difficult task to answer her calls now.

By Kwame Obeng

STEPHEN OKERAKU OBENG (KWAME OBENG) is a Ghanaian poetry and story writer. Since his childhood, Kwame has been a big lover of fictional love stories and has resorted to writing, to promote the course of love in real life.

2 thought on “The Love Was Not Mutual”
  1. He’s going to learn to be her friend as they were supposed to be

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