Jackson Siuluta

Mashed Love Jackson Siuluta

PROLOGUE Does love exist? Does love choose? Love, is it a myth we create to by-pass the fact that sex can just be sex? Is it a word we use when referring to marriage? Love, a word so small and yet has many definitions. Some say it's a verb; a doing word. Others say it's a noun coupled with feelings, if that's the case, who then decides how long these feelings last? People hurt by love often define it as a step after selfishness and a step before stupidity. If so, who then draws the line? Scientists seem to have taken the easier route around love, proving the heart to be an organ used only for pumping blood, and projecting ideas of love as a word describing itself and not a feeling of expressed affection. As for me, I remember the day I met her, she was like nothing I have ever seen before. Her hair, her body and those lips that made that smile. Shaking her soft hand made my heart feel heavier and skip a beat "Nelly Knells is my name," she said, as she held out her hand to greet me. I knew I had to stretch forth my hand to greet her and maybe say something, but all I could do was stand there and stare at her hour glass like sharped body. "Wow her eyes," I said to myself as I shook her hand. We both didn't want to let go of the other's hand hence, we just stared at each other. Although it was awkward staring at each other in the midst of people, neither I nor she gave it a second thought of concern, and as if it was planned, we both let go at the same time. All I could think of at this particular time, was making her mine forever; to which I did.