The string that knotted our hearts: If there is anything I have failed to define on this planet then it is the word “love” despite that I go to a church that claims to be the place where love is ministered unto the hearts of men.

One of the reasons why I have failed to define love is probably because I have heard all sorts of things about love.

A lot about love; both good and bad to the extent that I have heard people that accuse love of being wicked.

However, I had the most interesting thing about love recently. My friend, Donus told me that it is only in love where we do the silliest of things but get excused just because we claim to do them in the name of love.

Donus claims that because we do them in the name of love we tend to simply refer to these silly things as crazy things we do for love and honestly I agreed with him because as far as I can remember all the crazy things I have done for love are actually silly only that I had never thought about them in this perspective before.

And while I was still scratching my head to bring back to memory all those crazy things that I had always done in the name of love; that is when I remembered one of the craziest things I have done for love in my life.

Our love had thus grown in leaps and bounds since that trademark achievement. Nonetheless as young and energetic lovers then, we always thought we needed more private time together since most of the time we had always met only coincidentally when we had gone to fetch water at the well which we thought was too public a place for us to share our secret love at such a place.

Yet with the behavior of Christine’s dad it was almost impossible to get this private time. That is when I decided to hatch a plan of meeting this daughter of a man more often. It is the craziest plan I have made in life and I made it because I loved Christine. Luckily she accepted the plan.The plan was such that we would meet late in the night when the whole world had gone to sleep. She would have a long string tied on her hand, part of which string she would let to hang outside the window of her bedroom such
that when I came, instead of knocking on her window which I thought would easily attract the attention of the other sleeping fellas in the house, instead I would gently pull the string tied to the hand to beckon her soul from slumber.

She would then wake up, open the window and have me share a moment of conversation and love with her. The extremely soft and sweet conversations between Christine and I would then stretch far into the night with the two hearts knotted together: but knotted with a string of love.

Also About: “An open love letter to that girl who promised “to tell me something”