Will Cinderella ever dance with her prince...?

I have decided to go celibate.

Sounds so far-fetched and apropos of nothing, right? But it is actually apropos of everything that has been happening in my life since last June- or is it August? All the shit I didn't post about especially when I was considering giving up the blog.

And being a girl... (yuck, I hate that I am saying this, rather using the preceding phrase! still...) it has to do with a boy. Everything including the decision to go celibate has to do with one guy.

I am an extremist and I am one of those "romantic" girls that would say, "If I can't have you, I don't want anyone else." More like try-to-destroy-my-life before I came to this "epiphanic" conclusion!

I could go into the whole complicated details but I won't because the twist and turns would only bore you. But I will say one thing though, there is nothing like a good heartbreak or almost heartbreak to help change your view about life and bring you back to your senses.

I used to say I will never get married. The boy (or man) was all part of that decision because like I said I wanted only him and if I couldn't have him, what's the whole bleeding point! Just to be with him everyday and revel in his friendship is all good for me and since I am one of the very few in this country that realise that life can be as brief as a flash of lightening in the sky, I try to maximise that brief time I have with "my friend."

Still I feared everyday that that friendship would be taken away from me while I was still living but not by death- by some "soulmate" that has no business being anything of the sort! I feared. I feared. I really feared.

And last year, that fear almost came to being like Dracula rising out of his coffin to terrorise the night. I almost died. I fell sick, I cried for two weeks and ran to Enugu to be with Daddy.

Then, suddenly, "the fear" disappeared as unceremoniously as it had come and so finitely like it never was to begin to be with.

Still the shadow of it lurks around as my dream is yet to sniff the whisper of a breath of reality.

I die.

I am so in love and so in fear.

So I dedicate my sexuality to God in the hope that my dream might come through. It's a sacrifice filled with so much meaning for me and only God can understand this. I give this so that the possibility that I might get that would be magnified a thousand fold and may one day become a reality.

Do fairytales really exisit?

And as for "my boy". His is the name I chant as I dedicate a lifetime to my "prayer".

Dreams do come true after all... right?