Everything to do with my thoughts and feelings
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 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
Dear Love,
You will have to forgive me for writing you this letter but I feel that it is long over due. I have waited patiently for your arrival for so long that sometimes I forget that I am actually waiting. I am slowly starting to accept the fact that I just may be that one person in the family that may never discover the beauty within you.
The times that I think deeply about you make me question your existence. Are you there for me? Are you not a figment of my imagination? Are you not an illusion I entertain courtesy of the Romance novels I have poured over the years to make my soul happy? To nurture my wanning faith in your actual existence?
There are a handful of instances where I felt that you were so close that not only could I believe in your true existence but could languish in the feelings that the thought of you evoked. In these instances; I have experienced nothing but snatched hope and dreams.
Rejection, disappointment and ghosting at your expense have brought me unimaginable pain. Pain I did not think I would ever experience time and time again coupled with my other lot in life. Physical pain heals but emotional pain, there is no permanent relief for that except time, endurance and acceptance.
If there is anything this life has shown me; it is that to accept to hurt interminably for an unknown period of time takes sheer will power many do not have and neither do I. I almost came close to throwing in the towel this time last year because it was heartwrenchingly tough for me to withstand being emotionally and physically broken at the same time.
Would you believe it if I told you that I have rivulets of tears streaming down my face while penning you this letter? I would like to believe that it is cathartic but that would be lying. I have been crying on and off since July begun for no good reason. No. There is a good reason. I tend to lose people that I actually care for and presumably care for me in this month. And last year, well… I gathered my self-respect and lost again.
I look back on the times I was led on because of you. The times I have had my hopes crushed out of empty promises. The times I have believed in the words of humans that have never so much as paid for my data subscription and worst of it all; having to share my most prized dream – little Shanah’s existence and mapped out life like she was a useless piece of gossip to share with everyone.
I hate you for that, you know. I hate you for having the ability to let people bait others with their most cherished dreams for entertainment: hoping that it comes true with them. Some things should be no-go areas and this is one of them.
Do you exist? I believe you do. I see hints of you in a lovers’ embrace, the lingering glances and touches, beautifully written words in text and the intimate gestures that breathe nothing but familiarity between couples that make me sigh out of pleasure for being privy to them from the sidelines.
Do you exist for me? I do not know. Would I like to find out? Maybe. I remain uncertain of this because of past experiences. I find myself shying away from flirtations and deeper conversations with the opposite sex because I do not wish to hurt any more. I no longer have the desire for meaningless conversations with people that do not excite me intellectually, humorously and emotionally. Most of all; I have come to loathe being used as a vessel to alleviate people’s boredom, faux separation and silent treatments in their relationships.
People are under the impression that I am seeking perfection. They could not be more wrong. I am seeking emotional availability, consistency, honesty and action. Nothing more than that.
But, it kind of seems too much to ask especially during this wait for you. I do not even know what to ask for anymore. The endless waiting period has filled me with a lot of doubt regarding your existence for me.
If you do exist for me, If you eventually arrive, may you be everything and more than I could ever dream of. May you show me your glorious beauty and imbue my soul with all the contentment it can take. And most of all; give me the simple pleasure of basking in the splendor of your reflection in a lover’s eyes and the warmth of his embrace.
Yours,
Shanah
Simply Shanah 