Three years ago,
I thought myself in love.
It was so easy to believe,
Because I thought you were, too.
Three years later,
The hopes and dreams that you
Cultivated within me,
Were all dashed by your silence.
Three years later,
I’m still struggling with the pain of your cruelty,
Your silence in all these years,
Your disregard for my feelings,
The unfulfilled dreams you made me dream,
All painful reminders of you,
Three years ago.
…
We would have been celebrating our third anniversary.
Dear Katara,
I am writing because I have been besieged by a bout of sadness. I am from watching this video of a 12-year-old trying to teach his toddler sister how to walk. Seeing the little girl being lifted reminded me so much of how I wanted you (little Katara) to draw breath in this world.
You are the one thing whose life was mentally planned out. You were to be born out of love even if your dad and I were not together. This is because I have never seen a man by my side in all my visions of you.
At one time, I debated over giving you a brother. In my mind you are a sole child but the relationship between my brother and I made me to consider giving you a brother so you would not be alone.
Yes, I was scared to have you. Having you meant putting my health in danger. But I am always in danger because my health is precarious. Anything can kill me. However, not having you has nothing to do with my health. I would have risked it because I wanted you to have the very best of me.
My spirit, my heart, my big eyes, petit figure, dainty feet and hands, not forgetting forehead. These are some of the things I take pleasure in as an individual and would have loved to have them duplicated in you, my kitten.
Life! Life has not allowed it. I have never been in a long term relationship, if you discount texting. I have never had a boyfriend, or someone show me practical interest in a romantic way. The person I have tried to be with twice loves to ghost me like my feelings do not matter. So, how could you be born, my kitten?
2020/21 were the perfect years to have you. The world was literally at a standstill because of the global pandemic. I kept thinking that if I had a boyfriend, I would have used that period to have you. But there was no boyfriend, well not in the physical sense. Only text.
And then; I requested someone whose mind and sense of humour I appreciated to be my sperm donor. I looked into artificial insemination almost had the products delivered. As the months rolled by and clearance of the car purchase process was done, I accepted that I could not take on the sole responsibility of having you and raising you. Kitten: I proved that I could raise you by myself, if I wanted, by purchasing a car and having it cleared alone. That process was so draining and difficult that it required me to think again.
I had second thoughts. Being ghosted when I least expected it, going broke because I had used up all my finances and doing something so big even if for myself without additional support of a partner brought me to my senses. I could have you my kitten, I just did not (do not) want to be a sole parent, by choice.
Well, I went back to my would-be sperm donor and released him of the responsibility. What is sad about this is that we have never spoken since then. He too, blue ticks me. Even when I think of him randomly, which I do, often, I fear to text because I do not want to be left on blue ticks. That acquaintanceship ended like that.
I’m getting older. This body that has never been seen by a naked man or laid next to one is showing the effects of gravity, age, and weight. Am I energetic? I don’t think so. I’m much slower than before which can be blamed on the imminent need for that hip replacement. My breasts which I used to be proud of are drooping. Seeing this recently brought tears to my eyes. The weight, it will go. I have been so lethargic lately.
One thing you should know is that even in my dreams; my wildest imaginations of you, you are and always will be loved. Always. If I was promised of your existence, in my next life, I would have you in a heartbeat. But I do not relish the thought of a next life. This one life has been enough for me to know that I am not strong enough to go through it again life in another lifetime.
I love you.
Yours would have been Mama.
I miss you.
This is something I can genuinely say even after all the hurt and pain you have caused me, twice.
I do miss you.
Because I miss you, I feel sad over the fact that you and I failed not once but twice. We failed twice yet I continue to think of you, see you in places you will never materialize and dream of scenarios that will never come true. These hurt because they will never come true but they comfort my mind at a level I do not understand.
Like the last time when I told you of the stories I was reading about the meaning of space, I read these stories of people in long distance relationships. The ones that have made them work enough to get to their happy ending and the ones that failed because of life’s interferences.
We could have made it work, if I had been given the chance. I know I would if I knew your truth and was of importance to you as you claimed. But, you were never as open with me as I was with you. You were only accountable to yourself and because of your age and sex, you subscribed to the notion that a man is only accountable to himself.
It is sad, no? I am of the thought that you should have taken the steps necessary to improve the bits about you that were unsavory. You were fully responsible for the excavation of the romantic feelings I felt for you. For that matter, it was your responsibility to protect them like they were your own.
Who am I kidding? I have been here before. A place when all I do is nurture feelings for people whose interests lie elsewhere and all they want from me is to boost their ego, give them emotional support while their real life relationships are on the bend and I am simply available to them because I do not know better.
I digress. The one thing I have learned this year, thoroughly at that is “people are not responsible for your feelings. You alone are.” I learned this from you and so many others that resurrected and died this year. I still hold you responsible because before you, I was minding my single business without a niggle of hope as to change in status. Not until you came along to sway my heart.
Your words were beautiful. They went straight to the parts of me that were unaware of how much they needed them. Parts of me that had long forgotten what it meant or felt like to feel for a man, to want and bask in his attention. Parts that had inadequate experience in entertaining the attention of a man. You thought I made you feel like a King, well, you made me feel desirable.
Thoughts of you would fill me with a certain warmth, my lady parts would throb sporadically in anticipation of your presence, your touch, the warmth of your embrace. You were the truest reminder of my femininity. I had never anticipated anything more than my potential experiences with you.
It is such a shame that the crumbs you sent my way were all you could do for me. You never called me, I requested so much for photos of you and you never sent any. You would tell me that you were dancing and would not send a video yet you do capture several moments of you doing random things for your audience on Facebook. To cap it all off, you never once asked me to come see you when you lost your father. You never offered to come see me despite the fact that we lived not far from each other.
Your words were so incongruent with your actions. You told me you loved having your dick held while you slept because it was your gesture of comfort. I thought it the most intimate thing that can be shared between two people. How naïve I was. It was not intimate, was it? This is simply words thrown around to strangers to make them think they are important yet they are nothing more than people to waste time with.
I have been denied so much by life. So much. It is sad you had to be among the people and experiences I keep being denied of. I will think of this as a positive once I have seen the positive manifest. Until then, let me wallow in regret. I was so open with you than any other individual in my life. It baffles me that my openness with you came naturally. I guess, that is who I was for you. For the person I thought you were.
I wonder what it would feel like,
To be missed by a lover.
Would he go through our text messages,
Laugh at the funny exchange,
Or sigh in exasperation?
I Wonder what it would feel like,
To be missed by a lover.
Would he scroll through the volumes of shared photos?
Reminisce with each passing memory?
Or regret the shared experiences?
I wonder what it would feel like,
To be missed by a lover.
Would he drive to where I am?
Out of the unshakeable urge to see me?
Or simply ignore the urge in a fit of self-righteous fury?
I wonder what it would feel like,
To be missed by a lover.
You proved to me for the second time that you don’t know what you want. The first time when you ghosted me, I let you go because I thought your relationship was going great and therefore there was no use for me. This first time should have been the example as to why I’m so fearful of being strung along. You did it once and disappeared.
The second time, I gave in to the thought of ‘us’ the possibility of having a promise fulfilled because I felt that you were my promise to keep. The internal affection I feel for you is the one that drove me to give into the picture you painted here and there. It wasn’t in detail but the sketch was enough to suck me in.
I ignored so many of my needs just to let you lead. Be the man as they say and command the ship. Whenever you would brush off my fears of being strung along, failed to commit to at least give me one show of confidence that you are who and what you say, I held on. I believed that much in you.
That night, the one I feel was kind of regrettable, I was overwhelmed with love for you. So much so that I sent a small prayer to God asking Him to help us be better people for and to each other. I have not felt as peaceful nor content with a man like I did with you in that period. And this was without you spending an exorbitant amount of money on me or lavish gifts.
Right there, those little acts of intention that you never did for me waved the red flag at full mast. But I ignored because I believed in you. I was understanding of your current situation, losses and grief. I did feel that ours was a unique situation and that you had chosen a bad year to start a romantic relationship. I ignored that too.
I like you so much that even as I write this, a few tear drops leaking from my eyes, I cannot get the courage to hate you. You have hurt me for the second time, in a year where no one, not even my worst perceived enemy deserves to go through a breakup because COVID19 is a huge feat of its own. But, I am here going through emotional pain because of you, for the second time.
I do acknowledge that you are over the worst of your need for emotional support which you needed me for. Still, part of me wants to text you and ask if we are really done. Are we irredeemably done? Crazy, no? That is how much I like you.
A friend asked me why I like you yet you have not given me money, fulfilled my request for physical presence or given me eggplant? All I could say was that you gave me emotional security.
Like I mentioned earlier, you gave me that and I think it’s what is forcing me to want to request for a breather, we both work on our hurt feelings and talk it out when we are ready. You don’t know how much I am holding back from that. But I’ll let us be. You have your space and I’ll have mine and may God lead us to where we are meant to be.
It is still early days to say this. I’ll be OK. My support system this time round has been surprising, to say the least. I feel very understood by my brother, a friend agreed to hold my hand as much as I may need to get through this, and as much as I hate being vulnerable, I accepted. You see, I may be lonely at heart but I’m not alone. Because of them, their best wishes for me, and knowledge that I deserve better will get me through this.
Everyone is telling me not to settle nor lower my standards because of someone who isn’t even doing for me 80% of what he should do for a woman that he is interested in. I do hear them but there’s just something about you that pulls at my heartstrings.
Nevertheless, I’ll not deny myself the chance to get over you for the second time. The last thing I expected was heartbreak and I honest to God do deserve better! I hope God sends me my Prince Charming soon because heartbreaks are tedious.
In sadness and tears,
Shanah 🖤
Will I ever feel that?
Be caught up in the heat of the moment?
Feel the fire in his kisses?
The burn of his passion?
Will I ever feel that?
Be caught up in the heat of the moment?
Or they will remain feelings I read about in novels?
Moments that I watch I play out on television?
Will I ever feel that?
Be caught up in the heat of the moment?
Where are the kisses?
Where are the hugs?
Where are the physical touches?
The emotional support?
Why are they lost to me?
Why do I long for them?
You say I’m a coward
But I think myself brave
You don’t know how many times I’ve hurt
And continued to try
To try even when the signs are all over the wall
That my time is being wasted
That I’m not the person they’re for me.
I choose to be the coward,
I deserve to lick my wounds in private
and get back when I feel ready
When the scab is a little harder
and the scars less visible.
Someday
I could tell you my travels
How I was 3 hours away from you
I wondered if you were still in Amsterdam
Or maybe you had left?
These are details I’m no longer privy to
Yet seem so important for me
I’ve entertained the idea of you visiting me
Or me visiting you
I’d have loved to see your face
Hear from you after so long.
Maybe just maybe
Be in your embrace
I miss you more than I thought
I ever would.
10 pm,
In the dead of the night.
I lay restless in my bed
Far away from my home
Waiting for your text
My mind aimlessly roaming
Over the possibility of you texting
While catching up on a series
To help me stay awake
10 pm,
In the dead of the night.
The crickets chirped their way into my thoughts
Forcing me to listen to their song
While telling you how my day went
The twitter conversation I held with strangers
Over a series I was missing
Far way from home.
10 pm,
In the dead of the night.
I grew anxious waiting for your text
One Friday night when I didn’t hear from you
The silence spanned three days
Then popped the message tone
It was a message from you
10 pm,
In the dead of the night.
As the silence drew itself out
I thought to ask after your whereabouts
But it wasn’t my place to do so
My curiosity pressed for answers
But I suppressed the inner war with my thoughts
10 pm,
In the dead of the night.
So much reminds me of those idyllic days
Makes me long for a word from you
Triggering feelings that should be at rest
After the passage of time
10 pm,
In the dead of the night.
I cannot watch certain TV stations
Without memories of you lurking
Series I long stopped following
For the thoughts that never seem to fade.
10 pm,
In the dead of the night.
Image credits: googledotcom
Simply Shanah 