Distraught, I left my emotions bottled in a container. Caught up, you left your house to the shop to buy a new container, only to pick the one that shielded me. I was granted a new lease of life by the buyer stranded by love, eager to be released into a new existence. For a second, you owned me and I belonged to you.
Like an antique, you kept me guarded. I was your way out when you wanted to cherish something and way in, when you wanted to talk to something. I found myself inside your fears, happiness and tears. I forgot to live my own life and asked myself, ‘how could I have let this happen?’
But like an addiction, my story can’t do without you. This is not fiction but a real malfunction without you; without us. I found that I pride myself in the surrender of your touch. I found that I smile by myself in the remembrance of your hands; the way they feel in mine – perfect.
I found that my container was wide open. All my secrets were told unto you. Whether they were stored safely, I couldn’t tell. Finally, at liberty, my emotions were left roving in the open when you left. That was theft of a part of me, just as I reside here with a part of you. It’s over. It happened. But I won’t let such love happen again.
Say that you understand me, even when I am crazy like this. That even when I am left alone waiting, you will stand by me. Like the sounds of a quiet storm guitar, promise that you will keep me warm and feeling this good. Promise that you won’t be too hood to love and need me.
We are like an interlude to a song, not too long or too short – just enough, but not a song. We are like electricity, necessary for lighting up the fire within but therein are too many wires we couldn’t fix, even if we wanted. We boast to both be technicians but we are haunted, there isn’t anything we can mend, and all that is left is our dreams in technicolour. We have not one distinct colour but resemble a rainbow, beautiful and eclectic yet eccentric. Like the break of dawn, we are a mix between dark and light – never really one – lovelorn; together but lone, we are love clowns. But this isn’t comedy because how you make me feel is remedy to everything. Despite our nuance and our nuisance, nothing matters. We don’t care that we are wasting time. We don’t care that we are like a ship sailing way off course. We don’t care that we’ve spun over and over again. We don’t care that we lost it; we only care that we love it, and the spur it gives.
I will go into the world. And touch a child’s life. I will not hold down, when I am weary, but give my all when I can and stay caring for those who depend on me. I will not be afraid when it’s time to get married and start a new life or when it’s time to go, for I already enjoyed my time here. I will strive to leave a mark in the universe, even if it’s just by letting loose; to inspire and be inspired. I aspire to decipher right from wrong, evil from good and real from fake. God; I pray that you send me out so I can use my heart and soul.
Husband. That’s what I would like to call you. But that’s not who you are; to me. Like a sailor in the stormy sea, you seem in control of the situation, but even you have lost bearing. Like a tailor at the market, I am sewing and making any possible amends on our cloth but it still isn’t looking too good. As much as I keep hearing potential customers saying that, I am deaf. I only sew and see you.
When I think, I am left alone, you are always there; calling me, saying sweet nothing. At the end of our conversations, you are the skilled con who always leaves me feeling happy to be robbed. You have instilled in me a sense that we are on, so I am happy to be tricked. I am indeed a silly girl and surprisingly, happy to be sick of this. I am happy that we are as in sync, on the streets and between sheets more than in reality.
In summary, you keep paying my heart a courtesy call, playing it like a guitar. The music that we produce is good for the ears now but worthless years from now. My Producer, my engineer and my technician – just why couldn’t you have discovered my talent earlier? It feels like my career is way lost, even before taking off. I endear this way more that I should. And you my dear lead me way faster than you should have.
Now, when I look at you and your lovely family, you seem way cooler than when I look at us. And I realize that I am the loser. I am the dreamer, unable to decipher night from day. Though leaner, my heart delivers a message everyday, that it’s cleaner without you. And like an aeroplane lost in the clouds, the truth is I am unable to land.
For as long as it rains, can’t stop loving you. Tell it not to drop and I will unchain myself from your reigns. But because you don’t have that kind of power, were stuck together like the half and half of an hour-glass– feeling on each other as we fill each side we fall or rise with the sands of our time. Your words alone bring me back to life. Mine remind you of the kind of woman to wife and even though we’re apart; we’ll never give up in that which we share.
Is this real for you? Because the more I keep running from you, the more I keep hiding from the truth. That we are professional heart breakers and menders; who swim in motion with our emotions but fail to dive deep into their oceans. We are like a freeway—express and free. But like opposing lanes, we never meet despite the proximity that we are right beside each other. That makes me wonder whether there’s a possibility that we truly never existed and if we indeed existed at all, what did we have? That makes me insist on knowing, next time, if we are real or maybe just another passage off some olden story. For the more you pull me towards you, the more its a bother as your rope loosens and makes me weak throughout the journey. For many weeks, we were like a beautiful morning; started out bright and optimistic. Then by the end of the day, we were torn, weary and lonely. And if you had let me be, you would have remembered that I was good at the trade. But you were better at breaking my creations, making me guilty for the way you had my castle crumbling.
There are things you did that I can’t explain. Your were the plane and I was the pilot who let you fly. There are buttons I pressed that I shouldn’t have but they saved both us from crashing landing. Adding to my heroism was a subtraction for nobody really cared about our smooth landing, not even us. It’s almost like we were destined to move in a certain speed that neither of us could ever control.
When high above, the world was so small yet beautiful and we were mega lovers. In the real world, what we had—was so small yet bountiful, but not enough. Now all I care about is where you lay your head. As you get out there on your own, I hope that you are okay. As you head on with your life, whether on a plane or plainly flying in thoughts; all that matters is that you are safe.
I am the sunshine and you are the rain. When we mash-up, your grey skies and my blue makes a reverie of colors. When night falls, we become one—only separated by distance and invigorated by our trance. When you are missing, I know you’ll be back as the stars serve as a constant reminder. Shining bright, and sending a sign that without you, I must suffer not. Even though, without you I suffer a lot.
Please hold out your hand, body or soul, and reach over to my side of the universe. Lie next to me silently and don’t leave, but listen to these verses I wrote for you. For even before I met you, they were meant for you. To dry my tears, lock out all your fears. For even when we are far apart, our spirits mustn’t be far apart but near. And even if it’s stark dark, you’ll see and feel me. You’ll realize that I am all yours. But you fail to see—that you don’t need anybody else, and that all you needed was my foolish heart.
From a land far away and above, he watches over me. It’s hard to understand or explain how he does it but when the London birds sing and the Kenyan drums beat like in Dakar, he feels me. When his flights delay, soar high or his favorite record plays, he reminisces of me. And sometimes, in the hour that memories subside, he tells all his secrets to the wind, which in turn travels miles just to whisper into my ear—that he misses me. And when the sun rises, nobody knows but I adore him the more. When the sun sets, it doesn’t matter because he’ll still wake up mad about me. It’s never like it used to be before, I am not shy anymore but different and open, the good-kind. Like a bird grasps daylight, I want to take flight into his world. For there, I am special and safe. And he’s the sightless bird flying above the skies, blind enough to watch over me.