How to Love - A True Story

"Adele sweet, would you play me another tune?" I asked softly.

"Sure my love," she replied, as she lifted her guitar from where it stood and immediately started stroking it. I recognised the tune immediately. I loved that song! I loved all her songs in fact. Her deep lyrics and melancholic tunes were what made me fall in love with this skinny, dark-skinned beauty. I wonder what goes on in that braid-covered head of hers when she writes.

Hmm...The opening tune was to end in a few beats, and she was just about to open her mouth to sing in her sonorous and uplifting voice. My face inched closer to hers slowly as if proximity would enhance the intensity of the song. Suddenly, the unexpected happened. My face couldn't have been any closer when she turned her face away from mine and promptly threw up!

What?! I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Or was I seeing it? She threw up again! And again! Brown bits of goo were hurling out of her mouth at light speed. All of a sudden the lights began to grow dim...

Wait a minute...I was on my bed all of a sudden. Where is Adele? I couldn't see anything, but the puking sounds continued somewhere in the background. Then it hit me: I was dreaming. Adele doesn't even know I exist (the real Adele and my own version). Life could be full of shit sometimes.

But someone threw up yet again! The puking sounds were real! I sat up abruptly and looked at Tobi who sat by the edge of the bed. He kept on puking and puking and puking and puking.

The thought of slimy puke all over my room was repulsive.

"Go into the bathroom nah," I yelled. Tobi obediently went to the bathroom, and resumed puking. By now the stench was so much, I had to step out of the room.

I entered the living room, where I met my Uncle working on his laptop.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Tobi is vomiting again," I said.

"Again?" he asked, as he got up and went into the room to check up on Tobi.

I winced! I expected my uncle to rush out any second, overpowered by the stench in the room. You see, my uncle has a legendary sense of smell; one that rivals the likes of Marvel's Daredevil. Legend has it that whenever he comes home from work, his driver jokingly asks him what's cooking in the kitchen. And inside a locked, air-conditioned vehicle, he accurately tells what the food is by the smell he percieves!

Yet, amazingly, he didnt rush out of the room crying foul.

Anyways, warreva! This puking kid just disturbed the most beautiful dream ever. Adele and I were just about to set fire to the rain. As I leaned back on the sofa in the living room, my mind tried to recreate the scene of the dream again. The thought of thinking about the dream was as stimulating as the dream itself. Ah, yes, i remember. She was playing me a song. For those few minutes, music was the food of our love, and reality just became our hemlock. Why tonight of all nights did Tobi's gut decide to rebel? Couldn't they occupy somewhere in the multiple folds of his bowels? Let's hope he finishes spilling his gut (trust me, not even in the mood for puns), and cleans up the shit on the floor and everywhere else in the room. I have a sweet dream to dream.

My uncle strolled out of the crime scene looking perplexed and walking towards the kitchen.

"Didn't you perceive the smell?" I asked.

"What smell?"

"The smell of vomit all over the room." Wait oh, abi someone dosed my uncle with Kriptonite ni?? (or whatever was Daredevil's weakness)

"Oh, yes I did."

I looked at him incredulously.

"So, how come you were able to stay in the room for so long??"

"He needs help na," said my uncle, as he walked into the kitchen.

Pause.

Pause.

Think.

Think.

Reflect.

Reflect.

Regret.

"He needs help na."

Those simple words got me thinking. Here was someone whose sense of smell was easily 5 times the power of mine; who would definitely be assaulted incessantly by the reeking room. Yet all that didnt matter. It wasn't even a consideration, all because a young boy needed help. This could only be what love truly is.

Interestingly, my Uncle was on his way to the room, with a bucket and mop, in the bid to help the lad clean up the mess. With all these thoughts swarming in my head, I stood up and went to help. I guess I could start learning how to love from this moment. When you put your mind to it, cleaning up vomit isn't so bad afterall. All I needed was a huge towel dipped in washing liquid and spread on the floor covering the vomit (lol! I'm about to go gross!). Then turning the towel this way and that until the vomit is all wrapped inside the cloth, I lift the heavy towel off the floor and take it out straight to the big bin. See! All that was left was me mopping a semi-dirty floor and removing every form of cloth away to be washed. Shikenan.

Afterwards I felt happy with myself (my uncle had taken Tobi to the hospital). First of all, I learnt an innovative way of cleaning vomit without it touching my hands :D, but more importantly, I learnt an important lesson on love. You see, it's easy for people to claim to love you in the good times. But when you're down, dirty and helpless, when you've committed that heinous crime, when you've failed miserably, when you've puked all over yourself in the middle of the ballroom; it's those who stay behind, those who are sincere, yet comforting, those who won't allow you to stew in your puke or roll in your grime, those are the ones who truly love you. Those are the ones who truly know how to love.

I'm learning how to love.

Need to go back to sleep now. Adele needs to know about my new found insights on love ;)

Bon nuit.