The Electric Spark, The Long Wait, and The Love That Stayed

 Part 12: The Electric Spark, The Long Wait, and The Love That Stayed

After that morning in the cafeteria, my heart never felt the same. Going to work every single morning became exciting and terrifying all at once. I was nervous, my hands would shake, and every second I wondered when I would catch his eyes again.

The next Saturday, we both had our day off. It was a scorching hot day when he invited me out. We went to the Hilton Hotel me with my close friend, and him with his. We laughed and had such a wonderful afternoon, but when night fell, he expected that I would go home with him. I smiled and said no. I chose to go back to my own place with my friend. He was so surprised that I didn't go, but I wanted to protect my heart and take things step by step.

The Night at the Club

The following weekend was a close friend's birthday party at a club. I told him where we would be, and he promised to meet me there.

I don't go out to parties often, but that night, I dressed up to the fullest. I felt beautiful, tall, and confident truly like a model. The moment I walked in, all eyes turned to me, but I went straight to the restroom to freshen up while my friends went inside. He was already there searching for me everywhere.

When I finally stepped onto the floor, I stopped to greet all my friends warmly. Later, they told me he was so angry and jealous that I didn't come to him first! As I was dancing, he walked right through the crowd, handed me a handkerchief to wipe my brow, and took my hand. Without a word, he led me to a quiet table.

We just sat there, hand in hand, watching everyone dance around us. He brought me a drink, looked deeply into my eyes, and whispered, "You look so beautiful as always. How are you? I missed you so much." My heart skipped a beat, and I whispered back that I missed him too. When the night ended, he begged me again to leave with him. But I was so afraid to ruin this pure feeling between us, so I said goodbye and went home.

The next morning, I woke up feeling exhausted and a little sick from the late night, but the urge to see him was overpowering. I called him and asked if we could meet after work. Hearing his happy voice made everything better. From that day on, we became inseparable. We went to work together, and every single weekend I spent at his home.

My love for him was so pure and overwhelming. Every time I got dressed to go see him, my chest tightened, my legs shook, and I could barely breathe from pure excitement. Being with him made me forget the whole world. I didn't care about work, I didn't care about routine I was completely crazy in love.

The Three Days of Waiting

We lived in that beautiful bubble for six months. Then came the sudden shock: he got an interview for a new job in a city 132 kilometres away.

The morning he left for his interview, my heart broke at the thought of being apart. I asked him, "Are you coming back today?" He promised, "Yes, I will be back tonight."

Because I loved him so deeply, I made a reckless choice I skipped my job just to stay at his apartment and wait for him. Night fell, and the door never opened. Nobody came. I cried myself to sleep, telling myself he would arrive in the morning.

Morning came, and still nothing. My phone battery completely died, and I had no charger. In the scorching heat, with no food left in the apartment, days slipped away. I barely survived on plain coffee and tap water. My body grew so weak, exhausted, and dehydrated that I couldn't even stand up.

By the third night, my friends were terrified after not hearing from me. They tracked me down and frightened me on the door. I had no strength left in my legs; I had to crawl across the floor just to turn the lock.

When they saw me collapsed, starving, and sick, they became furious. They rushed me home in a taxi, made me shower, fed me, and watched over me as I slept. The next day, I dragged myself to work. My manager was furious, but by God's grace, he let me keep my job.

My friends were heartbroken for me. They said, "Never call him again. He left you alone for three days with no word he is not the man for you." Whenever his name flashed on my phone, everyone around me glared, so I couldn't answer. A painful week passed. He came back briefly just to pack his belongings and move permanently to the new city, and we missed each other completely.

The Bus Under the Station Lights

After another week of complete silence, the aching in my chest won. I couldn't bear not hearing his voice, so I picked up the phone and dialled.

When he answered, the relief washed over both of us. He told me how much he missed me and explained that his new job had already started. He asked, "Please, come visit me." We had to postpone it by one week, but the longing only grew stronger. Every night, we talked for hours on the phone, rebuilding the bridge between us.

Finally, the night came. I bought a ticket for the night bus to travel the 132 kilometres to him, planning to return the next evening. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking the entire journey, just like the very first day.

 Unspoken Rules, Broken Promises, and the Pain of First Love

When we finally arrived at his accommodation that night, my heart sank. He was sharing a small living space with six other people only two men, and the rest were women. The tension in the air was immediate. One older woman in the house looked at me with cold, angry eyes, making it unmistakably clear that my presence was unwelcome.

When we went out to eat, I asked him about the hospitality. He explained that she was the eldest housemate and that strict rules barred anyone from bringing visitors, male or female. I tried to respect the situation, but the night became impossible. She refused to allow us any privacy, glaring at me every time I moved. I hated the entire environment, but my heart was completely wrapped up in him. The thought of being in different cities, unable to see each other or work side by side, terrifies me. How was I supposed to bear the silence and distance?

After lunch the next afternoon, we walked back to the bus station. We held hands, talking through our fears. I promised to make the journey every single weekend, but he insisted that he disliked the house rules too. He told me to wait until he found a new apartment so I could visit. Leaving him behind at that station broke my heart, yet I had no other choice.

Nights of Longing and a Hero's Welcome Home

For the next month, we survived on late-night phone calls sometimes laughing, sometimes crying over the separation. An entire month slipped away without seeing each other. Then, my scheduled one-month annual vacation arrived.

Going home to my homeland was a dream come true. After a short stay in the main city, I travelled to my family's village. My father was home, and the entire household was filled with pure joy and laughter. With the money I had earned and saved, I renovated my parents' entire home: I replaced the roof, painted the walls with fresh, bright colors, bought a brand-new sofa set, installed a television, and furnished the rooms. Seeing the proud tears in my parents' eyes was unforgettable. People all across our village spoke of my hard work and devotion to my family.

That month passed in the blink of an eye, and soon I was on a flight back to the UAE, counting down the minutes until I could hold my boyfriend again.

The Growing Coldness

The moment I returned, I felt a terrible shift. The warmth and excitement he once had were completely gone. The distance between us was no longer just the 132 kilometres it was emotional.

I became the only one calling, the only one begging to make plans, the only one fighting for us. Every time I asked to visit or begged him to come to my city, there was an excuse: extra shifts, no days off, endless obligations. When he finally agreed to travel to my city, my heart leapt with hope until he insisted on meeting in a public park.

I couldn't understand why, after months apart, we had to sit in a public park. He claimed he was on a strict schedule and had to catch the bus back immediately. When I asked if we could at least sit for a warm meal or coffee, he pulled back. "I'm so sorry, my love," he said gently, "next weekend, you come to my city. We will book a hotel room and spend the entire day and night together."

Though deeply hurt by the rushed encounter, I clung to that promise. I counted down every hour until the weekend.

The Final Phone Call

The day before our planned weekend, the phone rang. It was him, delivering another excuse: he had to work.

A wave of anger, humiliation, and exhaustion washed over me. My friends sat around me, begging me to see the truth. "Let him go," they urged with tears in their eyes. "He has no time for you. He never reaches out, he never travels to see you, and you are carrying this entire relationship on your own shoulders. You deserve better."

My mind was spinning. I needed clear truth, not excuses. With trembling hands, I dialed his number for the last time.

"What is our future?" I asked, my voice shaking. "What hope do we have left?"

His answer hit me like ice water: "I don't think we have one."

I gasped. "What are you saying?"

"I love you, and you are truly beautiful," he replied coldly, "but I need an educated woman in my life. You don't have that, and that isn't what I want for my future."

I couldn't believe what was coming through the receiver. "Are you drunk?" I demanded, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Do you hear what you are saying? How did you become like this? What did I do wrong to make you stop loving me?"

"No, I do love you," he insisted, "but for my life, I need a woman with higher education."

Those cruel words shattered whatever remained. Realizing that no amount of pure love or loyalty could change his mind, I took a deep breath through the pain.

"Okay. Good luck," I whispered. "Just never forget how deeply I loved you."

He repeated the words back to me, and the line went dead. Just like that, the curtain fell on my very first love leaving me broken-hearted, but slowly waking up to my own worth.

To be continued...

Have you ever given your whole heart to someone, only to realize they didn't value what truly mattered? Share your reflections in the comments below!

Kidist.