It’s been a week since Mendy was discharged from hospital. She has been attending counselling. We are in her room. We are quiet for a moment; it’s the first time we are alone since her suicide attempt.
“Jonathan, we have to talk,” says Mendy, sitting next to me on the bed.
“Yeah, but are you well enough to talk about it?”
“I think I am. Attending therapy taught me it’s better to talk, and I’m ready to talk.” She slides closer to me.
“I’m so sorry for what happened to you in your younger years, Mendy.” Tears fill my eyes. Her life story is an impossible misfortune to imagine. I just cry when I think of what happened to her.
“I don’t need your pity, Jonathan. I’m a survivor, when you’re forced to grow up that young, you have to be. Men have taken advantage of me my whole life, but not you.” Mendy shakes her head.
I hold her hands in mine. Mendy looks at me, I lean forward to kiss her. She recoils.
“Look Mendy, I like you a lot. I love you, in fact.”
“No, Jonathan. Please stop.”
“No, please let me finish. Saying I love you isn’t enough…”
“Jonathan please, now you want to love me. I don’t trust love. You may love me now, tomorrow you may not.”
“You don’t understand Mendy. I don’t care about your past. Everyone has a past, some pasts harder and crueler than others. We don’t have to rush things, but…”
“But we can’t Jonathan. I can’t do that to you. You deserve better,” she says.
“We’ll take it slow,” I say.
“Let’s say we try this. You do realize that there are other problems besides the trauma of my past. I am HI. . .”
“HIV positive? We’re living in the 21st century, where HIV status is no longer a death sentence. I personally know couples where one partner is positive and another negative because the positive one takes ARVs and keeps to a healthy lifestyle. I know people like that who have HIV negative children. We’ll go through everything together,” I say.
Mendy looks into my eyes. She shakes her head. “I just don’t know, Jonathan.”
“Let’s not worry too much about anything else right now. I love you, Mendy.”
I move in closer to her. I look into her eyes; they are still as beautiful as the first time I met her. I kiss her.
Mendy smiles. I just look at her. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
“What?” she asks.
I know she won’t believe me if I told her what I am thinking. You see the thing is, Mendy reminds me of angel in a novel I read back in high school. This angel had her wings plucked by the devil. But through sheer willpower the angel redeemed her powers and defeated the devil, sending him to live in the shadows forever. The angel’s wings grew back and she flew to greater heights.
“Nothing, Mendy. You are beautiful. I love you,” I say.
***
Tell us: What did you think of this story?
