I had just turned eighteen when I met him. Chiseled jawline and tender eyes. The dimples were breathtaking as his smile was mesmerising.

He possessed the physique of a Greek god. Reason why I should have been wary.

But the girl got to admit, I was blown away. His wits were undeniably compelling. I can't say he was persuasive, although he tried.

Like two lovebirds, we talked deep into the night until sleep called at dawn. His calls made my heart flutter, and his voice was highly anticipated. Everything about him screamed the man of my dreams, but I stirred like an African grandmother. Always careful with the fish but determined to scoop from the bottom of the pot.

I can't say when it began. It must have been the dream.

The harbinger that brought tidings before it happened.

For several days later, I received a call. It stung my heart and pierced like a sharp blade. 

Nursing my heart in secret proved futile as it was difficult to conceal the changes. The calls were gone but the voice tarried for a while like a stubborn reminder.

And just when I could have healed, the final blow came. At first it was a death blow because I have never known any greater pain than seeing him together with the lady that called to inform me of their relationship. However, I healed and forgave. It was my life's lesson.

Surprisingly, the scargiver has returned, and wants a second chance.