Loving Me.

This is inspired by a story I just read on Overwhelmed Naija Babe’s blog about her boyfriend saying I love you first. It struck a chord with me because I’ve been in almost the same situation which I can talk about in my blog – musings of a commitment phobe.


Loving Me.

I love you
Three simple words
Whispered from his lips
Lying within the dark tangle of silken sweaty sheets
Snatched by the night and laid out
Bare.
Naked.
Irretractable.

Oh Shit…
I am so scared.
I stiffen in his arms
I love you
Three very simple universal words
Hard and inescapable
I don’t know why those words fill me with terror

I start to panic.
What does this mean?
How will this change the dynamic of our relationship?
How can I cope with the added pressure of looking after his heart as well?
I’ve lived with the responsibility of being invulnerable for soo long
I forget how it all began.
When did I make the conscious decision/promise to never have my heart broken?

I don’t want to be here.
I am truly not ready for this.
My eyes well with tears
I love spending time with him.
I love the little endearing things he does
I love the way he makes me feel.
I am however, not in love.

The silence stretches out unbearably
Tension.
Pain.
Anger.
Coursing through me
How could he do this to me?
WE HAD AN AGREEMENT!!!
No Titles! No Labels!!
This was supposed to be a light, fun filled, “let’s see where this goes” affair.
I am a lone ranger
No strings. No ties
I come and go as I please
I hurt no one and no one hurts me
What does he know about love?
What does anyone know about love?
How can he love me?

I don’t want to turn around
I don’t want to see the hurt in his eyes
I cannot give him what he wants
I also cannot hide how I feel nor lie to him
He knows me too well

I shrug off his arms and get out bed
I slowly put my clothes on and pick up my bag.
I turn with a heavy heart and look at him for the last time
No words are needed.
He knows as well as I do.
We are over.

Little Girl Lost

It is a hot sweltering night.
The little girl cannot sleep for excitement;
Its is Christmas eve.
She goes down to the kitchen to get a drink.
The clock shows it’s 3 o’clock,
The height of the nightly cockroach feast.
The little girl is scared.
(she doesn’t like creepy crawlies)
She leaves the kitchen light on
Scampers to the housegirl’s room.

“Bose! Bose! … Wake up!
Please come and help me get a drink”
Bose is covered in sweat beads
A thin wrapper her only cover.
She refuses to wake.
The little girl sits on the bed
She will wait 5 mins
(Enough time for the cockroaches to run away)

“CrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeKK”
The sound of the door opening.
The little girl looks up.

“Thwaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!!”
The air whistles from the force of the slap.
Violence screeches in the air.

Blood seeps from the corner of her eye.
(His ring cut her face)
Her mouth is swelling from the punches to her jaw
Her knees hurt from the awkard position she landed
Her back is torn from the kicks aimed after she curled into a ball

The little girl is dragged by her hair.
The household is assembled in the living room.

“This girl is a witch!” he proclaims.
“I heard her get up at 3 am!!
The same time that man that lives behind us arrived home.
They planned it together!
I came down and caught her in Bose’s room.
Bose was lying there naked in the bed!!
They were conspiring against me!!!
What do you have to say for yourself?”
He kicks the little girl…
What???

Her body aches too much to move or think straight.
Spittle and blood dribble down her mouth as she gurgles sounds.
The tears stream down in a silent continuous flow.
“Take her upstairs. I’ll deal with her in the morning”.

As arms lift her tenderly,
Her head rolls to the side
She glances into the kitchen with her good eye …
All the cockroaches have disappeared.