I’m here thinking of what to write. I want to choose my words carefully. I want to write without hesitation. I want to tell the world how much I love your guts, wits and our idle talk.
I want the world to know that in my eyes vanity is a love affair between my lover and me. So just like every other committed couple, we met and fell in love deeply. It was a fine afternoon and all I had eaten was bread and eggs. I stood close by him at the mall and then I sat.
His gaze was intense. I felt it. I felt it. He walked up to me and said,”you are beautiful.” I smiled and said thank you. We exchanged digits and very soon a good morning turned into a good evening. A flower turned into a kiss. A warm hug turned into long nights of intimate conversations. Days, weeks and a year passed by. I felt for him what I had never felt for anybody else. His voice sounded like an old lullaby. It was slow but very soothing to the ear.
After a year and six months of falling in love, my dream come true turned into my worst nightmare. I was his obsession and he was my symphony. Nothing triggered my emotions more than our first kiss. He was shy but I was hyper.
I don’t know how it started. We just began to fight every single day. What was a misunderstanding quickly switched to a fight. I threw the wall clock at him. He went raving mad and threw the wooden chair at me. It’s enough to say that we were both negligent of our feelings and emotions.
The negligence of our feelings and emotions had become very normal.
Eventually, I killed him. I killed him in my heart. It wasn’t sudden. It was slow and conscious. Sometimes we grow love and nurture that love until we find out that that love wasn’t true.
If there’s true love then ours must be untrue. We quarreled, fought and all of the love became abusive. This toxicity run down our spine.
I must be cursed. Maybe not!
One day, he looked into my eyes and said, “I will always love you.” We were each other’s strength and each other’s weakness too. Albert, my love for you carries weight. It is not broken but we are. We talked and worked things out until we could no longer remember what happened. We learnt our lessons. We knew that it was only hard work that could help us build a strong fence around this relationship.
We had to kill our old selves. So we did. We became new. There’s nothing more amazing that sparks enthusiasm like fresh love. This fresh love grew healthily.
To the old him:
This is an Ode to my lover. If you do meet him tell him that even though love doesn’t seem right to me any longer, I have buried him in the deepest parts of my soul. I wish I didn’t but love like ours is hard to find.