You never truly forget your first.

I guess it’s true what they say. You never truly forget your first love.

I sighed and dug my feet deeper into the sand of Elegushi beach where it had all began. The place where we met. The place where we fell in love…and made that stupid promise.

“Let’s come back here in 20 years…regardless of where we are, who we’re with, regardless of consequences. Let’s make it back to where it began.” I had said to him.

“We’re going to be together forever. We will have three beautiful girls that would look just like you.”

“Even though. Promise me, no matter what, we’ll both be standing here together, at this same time, same date in 20 years…”

“I promise…”

That was what he had said to me, but he left six months later after I had found out I was pregnant with his child. He had promised.

What was I doing here?

HE LEFT ME!!!

He left me alone to deal with the pains, and agony of birthing and raising a child that we both made.

Why was I here?

I have a husband who loves me so much he adopted a child who wasn’t his. Tears gathered in my eyes, and rolled down my cheeks. I looked down at my wedding ring sitting pretty on my finger.

I adjusted my red spaghetti strap, ankle length gown that I had on, and wrapped my hand around my waist. Red was Jide’s favorite color. I sighed and wrapped my hands around myself, staring ahead at the large expanse of water, remembering the good old days when we were madly in love and nothing else mattered.

I guess you never really forget your first…but it seems he forgot me. I sighed and looked down at my watch, deciding that enough time has been spent waiting for him, and daydreaming about the past.

“Oge…”

I gasped and turned around, I could never forget his voice.

Olajide…the love of my life, and the bane of my existence. The one I would never forget. He came. I guess he didn’t forget me after all.

He looked different. We both did. We were in our 40’s. He had patches of gray in his hair and beards. He had fine lines around his eyes that showed years of experience and pain, he had a dad bod now. But he still looked as handsome as ever.

He scratched his brow and I caught sight of his wedding ring, my heart plummeted even more, and this time I let the tears flow.

“Oge…” He took two steps towards me and stopped.

So much time has gone. So much water under the bridge. So much love and pain flowing with the water.

“Jide…”

Our names sounding like melodies from each others mouths.

I wonder if he loves his wife, if he told her the same things he told me. I wonder if he had children, if he got his three girls, and if they looked just like their mother. I wonder if he was a father to them. He never asked what happened to the child we made, and that hurt me more than I would like to admit.

I wonder if he ever regretted leaving me. I wonder if he also daydreamed about what could have been had he stayed. I wonder why he ran. I wonder if he ever loved me at all. So many questions…

What was I doing here?

Why was I deciding to torture myself this way.

We just stood there, at arm’s length, staring at each other and reminiscing on what was, what could have been, and what is.

He smiled at me, I could see the sadness in his eyes. I smiled back, my eyes reflecting same. And then in silent understanding, we both began to back away from each other, and then turned around to return home. Back to our comfort zones, back to the ones we had grown to love, back to live with our hurt and the consequences of our actions, back to the families we have created.

Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.

I guess it’s true what they say, you never truly forget your first…