I'm A Helpless Romantic

<h2>A Spoken-Word Love Letter to Sucre</h2> Dear Sucre... Before you,I thought love was mathematics. You know... One plus one. Pros and cons. Green flags.Red flags. Compatibility.Timing.Chemistry. I wanted love to make sense. Then God laughed... because heaven has always knownthat the best storiesnever begin with logic. They begin with grace. I met you... Not in a nightclub. Not through an algorithm. Not because a mutual friend played Cupid. No... I met you in church. Funny, isn't it? I went looking for a sermon... and God decidedI should become one. The choir was singing. The preacher was preaching. People were shouting,"Hallelujah!" Meanwhile,my eyes had quietly wanderedto one lady... who didn't even knowshe was becomingmy unanswered prayer. I tried to focus. Honestly... I did. But even Moses would have struggledif the burning bushlooked anything like you. Forgive me, Lord... I eventually heard the message. Just not the onethe pastor was preaching. Everyone says, "When you know,you know." Liars. Because I knew... and still refused to know. I delayed. Professional procrastinator. CEO of "Let's just be friends." Chairman of"I don't want to rush things." Managing Director of"Let's keep praying about it." Meanwhile... God was probably in heaven saying, "My son...*Who exactly are you waiting for?"* You never chased me. You never pressured me. You simply became... consistent. Like sunrise. Like Sunday mornings. Like grace. You remembered birthdaysI forgot. Prayed for battlesI never told you about. Believed in dreamsI had almost buried. You made kindnesslook so effortlessthat I began to wonderwhether angelshad started attending church physically. And then... Something strange happened. I became excitedto see your nameon my phone. Your "Good morning"started sounding like worship. Your laughterbecame my favourite ringtone. Your silencebecame louderthan everybody else's conversations. I was in trouble. Holy Ghost trouble. The kind deliveranceI didn't want. One day... I sat alone. Thinking. Praying. Arguing with God. You know those prayers? "Lord, if she's the one,give me a sign." And I could almost hear heaven reply, "Emmanuel...At this point,you are the one delaying the sign." I laughed. Then I cried. Because sometimesthe longest distanceisn't from Lagos to London. It's from your head... to your heart. Mine had taken forever. Then came the day. No rehearsals. No prepared speech. No Shakespeare. No grammar. Just one sentence... carrying yearsof fear,hope,healingand faith. "I love you." Three ordinary words... spoken by an ordinary man... to an extraordinary woman. But those words... They sounded different. Because for the first timeI wasn't saying themout of excitement. I was saying themout of certainty. You... made me believethose words again. You healed a languagemy hearthad almost forgotten. People ask me, "What is so special about Sucre?" I smile. How do you explain sugarto someonewho has only tasted salt? How do you describe rainto someoneborn in the desert? How do you explain peaceto someonewho has only known noise? You don't. You let them experience it. Just as I experienced you. Then I understood... Love isn't chemistry. Chemistry fades. Love isn't beauty. Beauty changes. Love isn't butterflies. Butterflies eventually land. Love... is choosing one personevery single day... even after the excitementhas learnt your address. Love is seeing someone's imperfectionsand thanking GodHe trusted youwith something so beautifully human. So today,if anyone asks me, "Why Sucre?" I'll simply tell them... Love is a rhetorical question. Some questionsare too sacredfor explanations. They are answered... not with words... but with lives. And if every chapterof my lifewas reducedto a single sentence... it would read: "A man went to church looking for God... and God, in His beautiful sense of humour, introduced him to the sweetest evidence that prayers are answered when you least expect them." So here's my final confession. If I had another lifetime... I'd still walk into that same church. I'd still pretend not to notice you. I'd still delay... just enough... to discover that every road,every prayer,every sermon,every season,every heartbreak,every lesson... was quietly leading me... to you. Because some peopledon't merely enter your life. They become the reasonyour heart remembershow to love again. And you, Sucre... You are not just the sugar in my life. You are the sweetnessGod hidinside my story. And if love is indeeda rhetorical question... Then let my entire lifebe the answerI never have to speak. I love you.Always.

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