BEFORE

This is a story about us. An ‘us’ that is perhaps a construction of my imagination: an artist wishfully in love with a girl who conceivably may not feel the same way as he does. It is the same as these thoughts of mine that also may be construed but not confirmed.

Before you travelled, all of you, without reserve, presented a sweet, luscious, caring, and sensationally unrivalled. Everything about you was a dream; a conception of meeting an angel in human form made me pinch myself every morning to reaffirm I was not in dreamland.

Your laughs was infectious, coming from a profound, sincere place and completely oozing with happiness and joy.

You would have answers to anything I said to you without a thought of judgment or connotation and always have the equivalent weight of response to what was said.

You continually displayed a never-could-be-cornered personality; often, you never answered questions straight, which was annoying but bizarrely sweet. It pushed me to want to convince and manipulate you to do my bidding and made me want you more.

But the best part of loving you was the nuances of doing much more than you say in nonverbal communication you have mastered doing effortlessly; sometimes, it comes in the nature and curvature of your mouth, the tilt of the head presenting your neck to be kissed during a hug, or the suggestive looks.

I love your chuckles that, thank God, you came back with. I still love hearing you speak, but unfortunately, the frostiness and short tolerance make communicating difficult. So, I will keep the memories of before and pray that someday, I will see you back to your old self again, for she, I always would love, cherish and have her chambered in my heart.

But what happened to you? Why did you change so much after you came back from your trip? You came with a haunted sound to your voice. You flinched at words you ordinarily would not, and you cut short my long nonsensical calls that you would in the past listen and respond to as if I was in the pulpit, preaching, and when I suggested we meet, it was shrugged off with a cold and distant tone.

I will be patient with you to give you the space and time to heal. I will work on being supportive, listening to you, and comforting you if that is what you need. I will be understanding, not asking too many questions as I am prone to doing, and not pressuring you. I will do everything you need me do, as long as it is enough to reach and be helpful; I pray you let me, and I know how.

I miss you. I miss the way you used to smile at me, the way you used to kiss me, the way you used to hold me. I won't forget how you used to talk to me, how you used to laugh with me, and how you used to share with me. I miss how you used to love me, how you used to be with me, and how you used to be. I miss you, and this is a cry for help, for I do not know what to do.

I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. I love you more than words can say. I love you more than you will ever know. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.

But I can’t go on like this, living in this limbo, this uncertainty, this heart spasm and pains. I can’t keep hoping for a you that may or may not return. Please, come back to us, come back to yourself. Here I stay, living in the past, in the memories of before, in the dreams of what was and could have been.

I need you. Please tell me what happened to you, what changed you, what may have hurt you. I need you to trust, open up, and let me in. I need you to show me that you still care, that you still feel, that you still love. Please choose me, to stay with me, to be with me. I need you, and I don’t want to let you go.

But I have to. I have to let you be and continue to give you space. I have to respect your decision, your wishes, your needs. I have to accept your distancing; this is different from you. I have to face the reality, the truth, perhaps, and of the old you. I have to say goodbye to her, to let you go and be.

But I will never forget her. I will never forget how she made me feel, how she made me happy, and how she made me valued and alive. I will never forget the moments we shared, the memories we made, the stories we crafted. I will never forget the love we had, the love we lost, the love we still have. I will never forget her, and I will always, always love you, no matter the version of you.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

SCAVENGERS’ ORGY By OZIOMA IZUORA : EXPOSING THE CRAVINGS OF MEN AND THEIR FANTASIES

TENANTS OF THE HOUSE

WHY WOMEN WON'T GO TO HEAVEN