I became an unwilling victim to the wild crazy force that happens to be unforeseen love when I left my hometown in Bahir Dar to Addis Ababa, the country’s capital, for my tertiary education.
That was where I met Eshé, my first and only love.
I guess I never truly knew or understood what love was until I met her. We started off as study buddies before we actually became close enough to be best friends.
Eshé wasn’t the most beautiful girl I had seen in my life, No. She looked like Art, and art isn’t exactly supposed to look beautiful; it was supposed to make you feel something. And she did, make me feel something.
She was my Art who owned my heart.
Believe me, I tried as hard as I could to keep our relationship strictly platonic; but this proved even more difficult when she confessed to having feelings for me as well.
Now, this may seem like the perfect love story; pure, reciprocated love and all that. But it really isn’t. It’s the furthest thing from that even.
You see, I come from a strong Christian family, where my father even pastors a church of his own. All of my life, I’ve always been the Pastor’s son. And now, the Pastor’s son was intending on bringing a Muslim girl home.