Storytelling for Week 7: Love Lost, Love Found

I remember the day we fell in love. Everything felt different that day. The sky seemed bluer, the grass greener, and I, happier. Ky was the first man I ever really fell in love with. I had some boyfriends from the past, but that's where I intended to keep them-in the past. With Ky, all I saw was a future-a bright, beautiful, shining future. Every time we walked through the village together, hand in hand, I could feel people staring at us. Whether it be from happiness, envy, jealousy, or even disappointment, we didn't pay them any mind.

We were so young.

Our youth flowed through us and we took advantage of it, making the most of every day. We didn't care that people thought we were too young to feel what we felt. We loved each other and that's all that mattered. Besides, when you know, you know. Even if we were just seventeen years old, we knew we were soul mates destined to find each other and live the way were living right then and there. How are other people supposed to tell you when you should fall in love? How do they know your circumstances? How do they know your feelings? It doesn't make any sense if you ask me.

We were so young.

The day he told me he loved me was the best day of my life. Those three words jolted through me like electricity and made me feel so alive. I had been waiting such a long time to tell him I felt the same way and now I had the perfect chance. It didn't take me but five seconds to tell him I loved him too. We were so happy. Except when we weren't.

When I told him I was pregnant, he changed. He didn't seem like the man who had just told me he loved me a few short weeks ago. The longer he just stared at me, the more he became distant to me. I already felt our love and happiness slipping from between us. I fought until I had no energy left in me. And the day the energy left me, so did he.

I was so young.

I didn't have anyone to turn to. My parents made it clear that I couldn't keep the babies. There were three of them growing inside me. There was no way I would be able to support them on my own. I didn't know who or where to turn to. I had never been so scared in my life. When I gave birth to my three sons, so healthy and so strong, I knew I had no choice but to give them up. They deserved a better life than mine. They just deserved better. I left them at a stranger's doorstep praying hard that they would give my boys a good home.

And they did. The fate that brought us back together will always have me forever grateful. I remember walking through the village, alone, heading towards the market to pick up a few things. While there, I overheard an older lady smiling widely and talking about her triplet sons. Although having triplets was uncommon in our area, I still felt as though there was a small chance the woman was chatting about my babies. Something inside pushed me towards her to ask, though.

When I found out I was right, joy and sadness rushed through me. My boys adoptive mother and I talked for hours. I'm glad we conversed for so long because it gave me time to work up the courage to see them, as she offered. It had been over twenty years.

Now, today, I look to all of my three sons and not only see his face, but also the determination, compassion, and humor, of my past love. I also feel the hurt and pain but still each day I see them, a little part of that pain is eased. My heart grows, and the missing parts are now filled.

They are so grown.

"Village; photo by Dennett"
Source: MythFolklore Untextbook 

Author's Note: In this week's storytelling I decided to retell the story of "The Three Brothers" from the Stories from Congo unit. In the original story, it starts off by telling how the mother of three boys didn't want them and decided to leave them in the grass one day. The three babies looked for food on their own and eventually grew up to be strong and eventually built themselves houses and found themselves wives. Then, one day, the father of the three boys found them and told the mother. The boys thought she was an intruder and planned to kill her, but the river-spirit (who helped them to grow), told them that she was their mother and to take care of her instead since she was old at this point. Even though this story was short I really liked it and had an idea of how I wanted to tell it. The way I changed it up is that I tweaked small things here and there and decided to give the mother more of a voice. It tells of how she was young, in love, and how she eventually became pregnant. With every story there's usually more than one side so I wanted to tell the mother's side.

Bibliography: "The Three Brothers" by Richard Edward Dennett, from Notes on the Folklore of the Fjort (1898).
Web Source: Mythology and Folklore Untextbook