After a series of failed relationships, I became hopeless about finding the one. I spent most of my days indoors binge-watching movies and eating the sadness away. The once bubbly and social girl was now a lonely loner. My mother noticed the sudden and negative change in my attitude and decided to intervene. Though I’m not that close with her, she offered the best help a mother could. She found out I was depressed because my relationship had ended and encouraged me to go to church to seek God’s intervention. I was sceptical but gave it a try anyway.
The following Sunday, I got dressed in the most decent clothes I could find in my closet and headed to church. I went for the youth service so I could at least enjoy the sermon. Indeed, it was fun. The choir was vibrant and sang many of the songs I knew. In fact, you’d think I attended church every Sunday when in reality, I stopped going years ago.
The church service came to an end and I quickly made my way out. Before I could leave, someone tapped me from behind. I turned and met a dashing man standing with a toothy smile.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied back a little confused.
“I haven’t seen you around.” He continued.
I expected this interaction so I had my answer prepared. “I usually attend a different church.”
“Oh, well, you’re welcome here anytime.” He answered.
“Thanks. Are you a church leader or something?”
“Not really. But I’m an active church member.”
The only reason I asked was that he looked nothing like a church leader. He wore rugged jeans and a tight white t-shirt that showed off his muscles. He had pierced his ears as well. However, I dismissed my stereotype about him and assumed it was the new age of church members. After all, it was the youth service and there were all kinds of people in attendance.
“I’m John, by the way.”
He didn’t look like a John either.
“I’m Sasha.”
“Nice to meet you, Sasha.” He replied. ‘I hope I’ll see you next Sunday.
I smiled and then went on my way. Sure enough, I was back in church the following Sunday, and John was there eagerly waiting for me. This time, I got there a bit early so I could secure a good seat. He welcomed me from the parking lot and led me to a seat near the choir. He then proceeded to sit next to me. I kept glancing my eyes at him throughout the service and noticed how focused he was on the preacher. It made me see him in a different light. Suddenly, he wasn’t the attractive guy with piercings. He was the church boy.
Once again, I left almost immediately after the service ended. John stayed back to catch up with his friends but we exchanged numbers so we could stay in touch. We texted regularly and even outside the church, he still maintained the church boy image. He would send me Bible quotes regularly and most of our conversations revolved around religion.
“I’m going to sleep,” I told her via text.
“Okay. Goodnight and don’t forget to pray.” He answered.
At first, the endless church talk was annoying but I somehow got used to it and even liked that he was a church boy. My mother was also happy that I was going to church again. However, she didn’t know that I had met someone new and he was the reason I was going to church.
The following Sunday. I decided to stay behind after the service to chat with John in person. We sat at a gazebo in the church compound and chatted for a short while before he asked me out for lunch.
“Let’s go somewhere and eat.” He suggested and I agreed.
I followed him behind as he walked to the parking lot and stopped next to a white Toyota. I was happily surprised that he had a car. He unlocked the doors and opened my door for me. the moment he opened the door, I got a whiff of something strong. It smelled like alcohol but I assumed it was a sanitiser or air freshener. However, when I got in, it became apparent that the smell was indeed alcohol. I gave him a look of confusion but didn’t say a word.
“Is this your car?” I asked trying to see whether he was aware that the car reeked of alcohol.
“Yes. Why?”
“Nothing.”
“Do I look like I don’t have a car?” he asked.
“No. I was just asking.”
As we drove through the rough road, I could hear glass clinking in the car boot. It sounded like heavy bottles which I suspected were alcohol bottles. We drove silently with John attempting to make small talk. However, I had already checked out of the conversation and wanted to go home.
“I’m not feeling well. Could you drop me along the road?” I asked.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with a look of concern on his face.
“I just don’t feel well.”
“Maybe you’ll feel better after you eat.” He suggested.
“I can’t stay in this car any longer.” I finally blurted out.
“Why?”
“The smell of alcohol is too much,” I said. He was silent. “It’s even worse because you acted like this church boy. Now, your car smells like old, stale alcohol.”
“Who said it’s wrong to drink? Even Jesus…”
“Spare me, please. I just want to go home.” I interrupted.
He stopped the car on the side of the road and I got out. I walked straight home and locked myself in my bedroom. Once again, I had trusted a man who turned out to be someone different. To make it worse, he used the church to try and confuse me. I was lucky that things didn’t escalate and that I cut him off before I got my heart broken again.
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