Friday, 27 March 2015

26 July 2015.

I stopped living the day I discovered I was alone. He was still there, his clothes shared the locker with mine, his masculine scent still on the bed we shared.
But he didn't love me and I was alone.
He didn't notice me anymore, not when I started wearing make up or when I started wearing long weaves. He didn't drop a compliment even when i got alot of those from colleagues at work or even his friends.
He was absent. Silent. And that killed me. In the most unbearable way possible.
Her name was Sharon. He spent alot of time with her and when he was with me he spent it texting her.
He noticed everything about her.
Today he was texting her again. I was writing in journal. Something I began doing alot since the silence in the apartment seemed to be eating me up from the inside.
"What are you always writing in that your dumb book?" He asked uninterested,  taking me by surprise regardless.
I held out my open diary and he read out the words that have been fighting with my lips to be voiced out.
"I hope for a day that I would write and my words would bewitch you, hold you down like a spell, make you mine. I hope for a day you wouldn't want to leave, not for her big tits or her light skin. I hope for a day your soul would be fettered to mine, bound in deep devotion, blood vessels entwined together, destinies merged. I hope for a day that I wouldn't have to need you, because you would be mine. I hope for a day your silence wouldn't make my heart palpitate and leave me broken, struggling to breathe, struggling to live."
The look in his eyes told me I was late. That he had left a long time ago.
I took my book and started scribbling again.
"Where do heart breakers burn? They steal souls, making living impossible. Living will feel disorienting, like wearing a shirt inside out. It is like murder. And murderers burn."

Thursday, 12 March 2015


You always wanted to give up on love, you really wanted to. You gave yourself shrink worthy advice while facing the mirror, giving yourself reasons to move on, to leave him behind. You told yourself you would be better alone, or did you actually say you wanted to be alone. I mean I understand, after being with such an asshole you needed to say those words, those empty promises to yourself. You knew inside you were crumbling, bone crashing on top another, muscles melting into water. You strutted out that day both determined and afraid. Ready to be the new you, empowered and intelligent enough, enough not to go back to her former mistakes. But you were more afraid.
Maybe because your mistake was 6 feet, lean muscled, fine chiseled face structured, with extraordinary eyes that stripped you bare and made your strength buckle so easily. Your mistake was your first love and he did not even have to look at you for you to remember yourself, shy and ignorant while he ravaged you through pain to pleasure. Nights where he loved you senseless till each part of your body knew him well enough to respond, tingling when you sensed his presence in a room. Love making so passionate that you had accepted it was impossible getting over that.
You were always too intense, frightening in the way you wanted him, unashamed and sacrificial. Needing him even on nights he was busy needing another. You were too busy waiting for him to call to have a life, too busy making him happy to make yourself happy. Your friends tell you no man can live up to the one who lives in your head, but you found him, only that he did not find you, you were there but he wasn't. You wanted him around so you closed your mouth more, never complained when he treated you less than the woman that you are. You settled on being soft and understanding, or foolish, isn't that the word for it? You wanted to be prettier like the girls he paid more attention to, tried putting on some make up, saving up money for that soft full weave with bouncy curls. You fantasied his fingers running through those curls while he fucked you. But you only lost him and yourself. You could not make him love you, you built a home full of memories with him, Memories where he was someone else, loving you like he should, before everything changed. Memories that made the thought of leaving unbearable.