You can't run from who you are. No matter how far or how fast you go, to the ends of the earth and back again, the shadow of your past is always just one step behind. I tried to outrun it; changed my name, disappeared, thought i could ...leave everything behind. And here i am, right back in the mess, such is life!!. I always thought maybe the best way to keep people close to you safe is to walk away, the veracity i can't confirm though. Guess i'm on a fast track and need to bring you up to date.
My name is Valentine and my buddies call me lover-boy. 'Valentine' is a name i chose few years ago when i decided to change my name but the attribute 'lover-boy' has been with me all my life. I grew up handsome and loved by all especially by the women folks, most boys wished to be in my shoes. As a kid, i used to hear stories of how some ladies usually kissed me beyond normal when they carry 'baby Val' or even caressed sensitive parts of my body.
Mum really had a hard time shielding me from 'predators' but i found myself moving in same direction as i grew. I wouldn't bore you with details of my childhood escapades with girls of my age but it might interest you to know i was barely of age when i also heard of how one of my elderly female cousins made love to 'child Val' who was about four years old. Obviously, there were some exploitations that went unnoticed too.
Once in a while, i was usually caught in the act either in a crooked corner in the primary school i attended, my compound and even in the church. By the time i got to secondary school, i had already perfected in covering my tracks but already had a notorious reputation. People would assume i've done it again even when i've not, but my notoriety seemed to spark up curiosity in most girls and they always come running into my web.
A detailed story of my life should make a size-able book (i'm considering its compilation) but to cut a long story short, my dad died while i was still in the secondary school and my mum managed to see my secondary school education to completion. Of course i'm not a dunce; i cleared my papers in one sitting. With no one to sponsor my education further, i became idle and closer to my tout friends.
Often-times i stayed away from home for days and became a real thorn in my mum's flesh. I returned one day to meet mum's absence, people were gathered in my house talking in low tones with sad expressions. It turned out my mum slumped at the market and was rushed to the hospital. She has been battling with high blood pressure which was precipated either by my dad's death or my mischieves. Few days later, she was discharged and i, for the umpteenth time got scores of advices from concerned friends and relatives on how my life-style was a contributing factor to mum's ill health.
This time i got the message because i can't forget the sobberness and how my heart leapt out of me on seeing the scenerio at my house the day my mum slumped. I was greatly relieved when it turned out she survived. I woke up early one morning, told my mum i was leaving, assured her of my safety, disappeared and changed my name to Valentine. It was while at Lagos that i changed my ways and became a devoted Christian. I called mum once in a while and even sent her money but refused divulging information on my whereabout and means of livelihood, i only told her of my repentance which she obviously doubted though she seemed happy at the news. I have this plan to travel home pretty soon and surprise mum with the changes in me but something disastrous happened recently.
My pastor passed away few months ago. I am an usher in my church and have exhibited such humility and devotion in my duty over the last two years that i've gained popularity and risen to be the head of my unit. Condolences and burial arrangement started after my pastors's death; i organised my unit (especially the ladies) to take turns going to the parsonage to help the pastor's family. I went there one afternoon to over-see things for myself but met only the pastor's wife. The two ladies on duty from my unit had gone to the market, i decided to hang around a bit and keep her company owing to her present predicament which solitude can worsen.
One thing led to the other and i found her in my arms while i consoled her, my body system responded owing to my few years of celibacy and...ughm... Well we did it!! We enjoyed it and regretted it too, we decided to keep it a secret (you can imagine its gravity) as it was a mistake and never allow ourselves be alone together again to avoid a re-occurence. Its now three months since our pastor was been buried and another pastor has come to replace him.
Just yesterday, our former pastor's wife called me to report her pregnancy for me, the doctor said her fetus is four months old and she attested she didn't meet her late husband two months before he passed away because he was on a seventy days fasting and prayer program when he left. I can't explain the frustration i feel now; even when i've tried to change, it keeps coming back to me and even worse than before :::SOBBING:::
My name is Valentine and my buddies call me lover-boy. 'Valentine' is a name i chose few years ago when i decided to change my name but the attribute 'lover-boy' has been with me all my life. I grew up handsome and loved by all especially by the women folks, most boys wished to be in my shoes. As a kid, i used to hear stories of how some ladies usually kissed me beyond normal when they carry 'baby Val' or even caressed sensitive parts of my body.
Mum really had a hard time shielding me from 'predators' but i found myself moving in same direction as i grew. I wouldn't bore you with details of my childhood escapades with girls of my age but it might interest you to know i was barely of age when i also heard of how one of my elderly female cousins made love to 'child Val' who was about four years old. Obviously, there were some exploitations that went unnoticed too.
Once in a while, i was usually caught in the act either in a crooked corner in the primary school i attended, my compound and even in the church. By the time i got to secondary school, i had already perfected in covering my tracks but already had a notorious reputation. People would assume i've done it again even when i've not, but my notoriety seemed to spark up curiosity in most girls and they always come running into my web.
A detailed story of my life should make a size-able book (i'm considering its compilation) but to cut a long story short, my dad died while i was still in the secondary school and my mum managed to see my secondary school education to completion. Of course i'm not a dunce; i cleared my papers in one sitting. With no one to sponsor my education further, i became idle and closer to my tout friends.
Often-times i stayed away from home for days and became a real thorn in my mum's flesh. I returned one day to meet mum's absence, people were gathered in my house talking in low tones with sad expressions. It turned out my mum slumped at the market and was rushed to the hospital. She has been battling with high blood pressure which was precipated either by my dad's death or my mischieves. Few days later, she was discharged and i, for the umpteenth time got scores of advices from concerned friends and relatives on how my life-style was a contributing factor to mum's ill health.
This time i got the message because i can't forget the sobberness and how my heart leapt out of me on seeing the scenerio at my house the day my mum slumped. I was greatly relieved when it turned out she survived. I woke up early one morning, told my mum i was leaving, assured her of my safety, disappeared and changed my name to Valentine. It was while at Lagos that i changed my ways and became a devoted Christian. I called mum once in a while and even sent her money but refused divulging information on my whereabout and means of livelihood, i only told her of my repentance which she obviously doubted though she seemed happy at the news. I have this plan to travel home pretty soon and surprise mum with the changes in me but something disastrous happened recently.
My pastor passed away few months ago. I am an usher in my church and have exhibited such humility and devotion in my duty over the last two years that i've gained popularity and risen to be the head of my unit. Condolences and burial arrangement started after my pastors's death; i organised my unit (especially the ladies) to take turns going to the parsonage to help the pastor's family. I went there one afternoon to over-see things for myself but met only the pastor's wife. The two ladies on duty from my unit had gone to the market, i decided to hang around a bit and keep her company owing to her present predicament which solitude can worsen.
One thing led to the other and i found her in my arms while i consoled her, my body system responded owing to my few years of celibacy and...ughm... Well we did it!! We enjoyed it and regretted it too, we decided to keep it a secret (you can imagine its gravity) as it was a mistake and never allow ourselves be alone together again to avoid a re-occurence. Its now three months since our pastor was been buried and another pastor has come to replace him.
Just yesterday, our former pastor's wife called me to report her pregnancy for me, the doctor said her fetus is four months old and she attested she didn't meet her late husband two months before he passed away because he was on a seventy days fasting and prayer program when he left. I can't explain the frustration i feel now; even when i've tried to change, it keeps coming back to me and even worse than before :::SOBBING:::

