THE MAN AND THE MAN IN THE PICTURE
He was not the type you could refer to as short, but if you
referred to him as that tall man, you get the side eye. He had just managed to be tall enough to not
be short, but not tall enough to be tall. He had a pleasant face, sculpted
lips, cheekbones to die for, broad shoulders, powerful thighs, like he was
really into sports and biceps that screamed to be felt.
He was in that skin tone that was neither fair nor dark. He
was not dark enough to be dark or chocolate, and yet not light enough to be
fair.
Now with these averages, average height, average skin color ,
it may have been easy to think that he was an average looking man. But he was
saved with having very intense and expressive dark eyes that seemed to see into
the innermost part of your soul. When he was angry, they inspired fear and when
he was happy, when those eyes landed on you, they made one feel joyous for no
apparent reason.
Sex appeal dripped from his every pore, it was practically
impossible to look at him and not think of rumpled sheets. Maybe this was due
to his look. He looked like someone whose control was being held in place by
tiny straps and if the straps were to snap, you had better be ready.
However, his smile was devastatingly sweet. He had a happy
smile that seems to light up from within him, and gradually grow to encompass
the whole room. With an almost dimple, straight perfect white teeth and a twinkle
in his eyes, the combination was a lethal smile, that very few people got to
see.
In all, Kelvin was an enigma. And girls were recklessly drawn to him. And yours truly wasn’t immune. *Throways face*
Kelvin had to travel for a music festival, and sent pictures
vial messaging apps. I couldn’t wait to drink him in in the safety of my bed,
and so didn’t open the pictures until I got home. The pictures were to fuel my fantasies as I imagined us building a life
together, with the default 2.5 kids, coming home to each other and just being
happy. The fantasies start innocently enough, with us picking aso-ebi colors,
to the priest declaring, “you may kiss the bride” to me pregnant and sexy, then
finally the daily mundane activities of a family accustomed to each other. Sweet,
I must say, but I digress. So, Kelvin’s picture.
I settled in my bed, and navigated my phone to where the
photos were, prepared to be blinded by the man.
Alas!
The picture was very
different from the man. It seemed the camera had failed to capture the essence
of the man. All I could see was a very
handsome man. It broke my heart to see him looking just handsome. The photo had
failed to capture the charisma. It was still the same eyes, the same
cheekbones, the same strong arms, but, something was missing.
It annoyed me, it felt like I was staring at a shell, I was
looking at the body of Kelvin, and yet, I wasn’t seeing Kelvin. I am unable to
explain how disappointing it felt to see the photo. Was it because the person
who took the photo was not a professional, who directed him on how to
pose? I really did not know.
I had thought the picture could capture the man himself, and
not just the body. Now I understand how
identical twins are distinguishable to the parents. It’s the essence and not
just the body.
See my life! Man turn
me to philosopher!
But, sha, I was
pained.
have you ever known anyone who was not photogenic or whose essence was not photocapturable?
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