How Will You Know When You Meet The One Made For You?
Recently, I found a question on a relationship page on Facebook. The question was, “At what point did you know she/he is the one?” “Interesting question,” I said to myself. I went through the comments. Typical on Facebook, some comments were plain funny. Others beat about the bush. Someone said, “I’m with someone. I still don’t know if he’s the one. When I get to know, I will come and update my comment but I doubt he will be the one because he doesn’t look into my eyes when he talks to me.”
I thought about it. It reminded me of my own story. The beginning of things. The sleepless night. The lost opportunity and the end of our beginning.
I wasn’t happy where I was working. I felt I deserved more than they were paying me. My role was very limiting. I wasn’t growing. Year by year I stayed the same. The same boss. The same annoying colleagues. The same questions that resulted in the same answers. I complained but nothing changed. I told myself, “If they won’t change for me, then I better move. I’m not a tree.” I started putting in applications. I spent days online, looking for whatever role that looked exciting. Many applications later, I had a call one day; “Mr. Agyekum, you applied for a role here some time ago. Are you available for an interview coming this Monday?” I responded, “Yes I’m available. If you give me time and place, I will dress for it. I will give you a reason why you need to hire someone like me.”
It was a Monday morning. I was there very early. I listened to the career coaches when they said, “Be there earlier so you can settle in before the interview.” Minutes after I settled down, a lady walked in. I thought she was a worker at the facility. She looked exactly the same as those women I saw when I walked in. She dressed in their colors. She had her natural hair styled in 80s fashion. She asked me, ”Are you here for the interview?” I said, “Yes” Thinking she was coming to tell me something concerning the interview arrangements. She said, “Great. I’m also here for the interview.”
She sat on the seat directly facing mine. I stole glances. I talked to myself about her. Judging. Complimenting her looks. I was saying she was beautiful. I accepted that she was the most gorgeous person I’d seen all week. But I couldn’t say a word to her. She was my competitor but if she reached out to me and told me, “Man, leave the job for me because I want it” I would have walked out of the building and avoid the interview.
For several minutes we sat quietly. She was going through her phone, reading something, and smiling to herself. When she lifted her head, she caught me looking at her. She smiled. I smiled. She said, “Pardon my manners. My name is Efe. What is your name?” I stuttered. ”My name is Agyekum.” She said, “Agyi Kum?” She pronounced my name as though she was saying “Agyi Kum,” the sound objects make when they fall. I said, “Not Agyi Kum. It’s Agyekum.” She laughed. She said, “But that’s exactly how I mentioned it?” I said, “It sounded different.”
We talked for a while. Not too long to know her story. We smiled a lot. I looked at her a lot. I asked myself, “How can a beautiful girl like this be unemployed?” So I asked her, “Where do you work?” She said, “I wouldn’t be here if I have a place I work.” That answer made me felt like I was being ungrateful to God. Why would I have a job and still run around competing with people who didn’t have any? When she asked if I had a job, I lied. I said, “No I don’t. That’s why I’m here.”
A lady walked in with a file. She mentioned my name. She said, “You’ll be the first to go, followed by Efe and the rest will follow.” That was when I realized there were other people with us. They didn’t matter. They faded. Efe was the light.
I went in first, had a great interview, and came out. When I was leaving they told me, “Call in the next person on your way out.” I said, “Efe, you’re the next person.” When she got up, I told her, “Good luck. Knock them off.” She smiled.”
For the next minutes, I was torn between leaving the premises and waiting for her to finish her interview. I waited for a while. I said to myself, “This is some way. What am I going to say or do after she had finished? Walk up to her and say, “I waited for you?” I looked at her seat, looked at the door she went through, said bye-bye to them, and went away. Immediately the car moved, I realized I’d made a mistake. I said to myself repeatedly; “No I should have waited. I should have waited and tell her how I feel.” Even at that moment, I could have asked the driver to stop but I allowed him to continue carrying me away whiles I thought about the girl I met a few hours ago.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I simply couldn’t function. Not a single minute passed without thinking about her. I was getting sick. Her love gave me malaria. I was regretting. I should have waited. I should have asked for her number. Something. Anything at all to be able to reach her again. It got worse each day. I dreamt about her. I caught myself mentioning her name. I knew I had to do something about so I did.
I called the number that called me for an interview. I said, “I was there for an interview a week ago.” She said, ”Oh yeah, Agyekum, we still haven’t reached a consensus on who to select. Once that is done, we’ll get back to you.” I said, “Thank you but that’s not the reason I called. That day I was there with a lady called Efe. She left her things in my bag and I mistakenly came home with them. I need to reach her. Maybe, she wants her things back. I would be glad if you give me her number.” She said, “Oh that’s no problem. Give me a minute.” She called out the numbers to me. She said, “That’s the number she wrote next to her name.”
I called her immediately. I didn’t know what I was going to tell her but I didn’t want to think about it and give up. She said, “Hello.” I said, “This is Agyi Kum. The guy you met at the interview.” She burst out laughing. “I didn’t say your name is Agyi Kum. Why are you putting it on me?” A question is a great start to a good conversation. We talked. We laughed until she asked, “How did you get my number?” I started stuttering. “Errm, I got it from the sheet you wrote your name on. I knew I will have to talk to you again. Have you been called?” “No, I haven’t been called. “Have you?” “No, I haven’t been called.” She said, “Let’s just hope they will call us soon.”
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A few days later, they called me. They said I was one of the three shortlisted people for the job. I needed to attend another round of interviews before they could finally decide. I called Efe again; “Have you been called?” She said, “Yes they have. I’d wanted to call you but I didn’t save your number the last time we talked.” My heart broke a little but I was ok knowing that she had been called. She went to the office on a Monday for her interview. I was scheduled to attend on a Wednesday. When she came back she called me. She told me everything she was asked. I asked her, “Judging by your performance, are you sure you’ll get the job?” She said, “If you don’t outperform me, then I will get it.”
I had a job I was doing. I was only not happy. Yes, I was underpaid but it was better than nothing at all. I asked myself, “Do you really need this job? Will it make any difference whatsoever in your life apart from taking you away from your current job?” I called Efe, “You’re sure you can get the job?” She said, “I did well. They will decide.”
On the said Wednesday, I switched off my phone. I went to work and worked my heart out. For the first time in a very long while, I felt fulfilled. In the evening I said to myself, “It isn’t a bad job after all.”
Efe called. She said, “They called me. They congratulated me. I’ve been given the offer.” I sighed heavily. I said, “Congratulation. You deserve everything and more.”
Two months later, we were walking down towards her house when I proposed to her. She said, “You like me that much? I didn’t know.” I said, “I’m sorry. I’m very bad when it comes to giving out clues. That’s why I’ve said it.” She said she’ll think about it. It took her three days to finally decide that I deserve a chance in her life.
It took me a day to know that she was the one but it took us a year and a couple of weeks to decide that we want to spend the rest of our lives together. When we finally got married, I told her what I did. I said, “That interview. The final one. I didn’t go. I wanted you to win, so much that I didn’t want to cross your line.” She said, “I know. The HR told me. I needed that job than anything else.”
At what point did you know she’s the one?
Here’s my answer. I knew she was the one the day she mentioned my name. It sounded different than any other person had mentioned it. She gave me sleepless nights for days. I could easily let an opportunity slip because of her. If she wasn’t the one, who else could that be?