Will I Never Just be Enough

 

He leaned in to kiss her gently and said, “Darling you’re so beautiful. You’re so special. If only we weren’t so different.”

He gripped her in his fierce embrace and emerged from his delirious pleasure whispering, “You’re too good for me love.”

He sat next to her, held her hand in his, drank in her soul and told her, “you drive me mad sweetheart. But I’m sorry I want someone more like me”

They came and went. Each one so different. Each one seeing a different part of her. Each one falling just a little bit in love with her. With her pure aura. With her gentle heart. With her wild spirit. Each one drowned in her sea of magic. Each one took her with them.

But then they all swam ashore and left her suffocating under her ocean of mad passion and desire. Each fled when they realized that slowly they were sinking into the depths of her love. Each fled because they were afraid that if they let themselves drift deeper, they would forget to come up to breathe. Each of them fled because they couldn’t allow themselves to be prisoners in her cage.

And so they left her, a mermaid with a crown, a queen in her realm, to slowly turn into a monster. They left her with her mad grief, to save herself from the waves she created.

But, poor girl, she has no idea how to swim. She took off her crown to make herself lighter, but the weight of her pain bore her down. She took off her shells and gleaming pearls, but that only made her soul darker. She tried to scream out for help but her voice was caught in the raging tide.

So alone and tired, she lay among rocks and waited for death. Here she lies, her heart beating ever slower. Here she lies, her light slowly going out. Here she lies, he aura flickering off. And in her heart the melody replays…” I was too good for the bad boy. I was too wicked for the church guy. I was too good for the bad boy… I was too wicked for the good guy… I was too good… I was too wicked…”

“Will I never just be enough?”

Via Clover.

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What if we forget it all?

Wearing my slippers at the balcony and staring into the horizon…I wonder whether it’s true that everyone is in control of their destiny. I sip on vodka in the glass and gulp slowly…feeling it slowly stream down my throat.

What if we will never see each other again?

What if we forget to meet at Chicken Inn or KFC or our favorite cafe in the heart of the street?

If we forget the future we can still make it up to ourselves. We can get creative and build it with our hands, you know, like use clay, or carve a statue out of wood like we used to do in Art and Craft.

But what if we forget the past? What if our memories become ashes and the next time we see each other we don’t feel anything at all?

I do not want to feel nothing for you. I can’t even imagine you as a stranger. I can’t imagine walking by you indifferently; not holding hands as we’re used to.

I do not want to think that we will eventually ignore each other because there’s nothing worst than ignorance. What if all those precious memories we created go down like a house consumed by fire?

What will remain of us is just ash and melancholy. I do not want our love to become apathy. We were us. We were special, so alive together.

I’d become lifeless without you.

Okay I know what you’re thinking and yes, I have three hundred and fifty fears, but oblivion is my deepest one. Nothing like forgetting us attacks my lungs so unforgivingly.

I do not want to forget our moments of escape in paradise.

I do not want to forget all the pictures we took together. I delete some from my gallery but they keep on regenerating, why?

We had a reason to be so perfect at such an inconvenient time. And I do not want to let it go as I envisaged the best coming out of it. I am not ready to disregard my intensity of our short, vivid instants.

I am afraid to forget your sweet mellow voice and that you will forget mine.

I am afraid to forget the fervor I saw in your eyes when we met.

I am afraid to forget your sense of humor and hearty laughters.

I am afraid to forget our love.

I am afraid to forget the pace of our love, your smooth hands caressing me, goofy faces, wagging your tongue at me at a distant when we in public, and the quick glances we used to exchange only after a few hours after not seeing each other.

I am afraid to forget the late night and early morning conversations over the phone.

I am afraid to forget the cosy and comforting feeling of sleeping and waking up with your warm tender body wrapped in mine.

I am afraid to forget how intimate we can get.

I am afraid to forget that I said I’d be loyal and only belong to you.

I am afraid to forget all the songs we played and listened together and the fights of who was playing the next one.

I am afraid to forget all our first times.

I am afraid of how dolorous our goodbye has been.

I am afraid to forget how liquor tasted so better when we had it together.

I am afraid to lose myself as I lose memories.

I do not want to forget how the intensity of our love made me feel alive again.

I want to remember. I want to be able to recall those instances that made me fall in love even when we were gone.

Even when the pain is too much to bear, I want to feel you one more time.

But again, maybe I’m lost in my world alone, dreaming.

Tha Dreamchaser.

Via Fidash

Bound

I give the most gentle of knocks that I can master, the adrenaline is pumping in my veins I am terrified I know I have crossed a line this time.

‘I don’t have to do this anymore, I am stronger than this,’ I keep chanting.

I don’t get a response as I knew I would not so with the last shred of balls that I have I open the heavy mahogany door and immediately the smell, the glorious smell of his presence hits me. I walk in, with a slight sway in the hip, just the way I know he likes it. He does not acknowledge me and I realise I may be in even deeper shit than I thought.

‘Sit down and be quiet.’

I take the furthest seat and fold my legs then straighten my back because who the hell does he think he is, today is the day I walk away, I am done, I will am leaving the chains. I have to keep chanting to myself I have to keep telling myself that I am bigger than him, I own him, he’s nothing without me.

‘I understand, I will be careful to consider this in future’

He hangs up looks at me then right past me then back to the telephone picks it up. It barely rings before it connects he listens for a minute and says

‘You know what to do.’

He stands to his full height back to me and gently picks up the scotch fills a glass, puts in some ice cubes and strides towards me. My breath catches at the sheer masculinity that is this man and wonder how I got myself here.

‘Why?’

I know what he’s asking but I do not know what to say. He is looking at me like he expects a response and I stare, partly because I am awed by him and partly because I am about to take him down.

He sees my cocky face and realises I am not as terrified as he thinks I am, he comes closer and I give him a full blown smile,

‘Goddamnit Ava, what did you do, bloody heavens you told the press didn’t you, you have wanted to fuck this up right from the onset,’

I like the way he speaks.

‘Get out,’

Well, this is what I wanted isn’t it, to get rid of this, to let the burden go. I know I will not get any sleep tonight. I get up surprised that my legs work and move past him headed for the door then I realise belatedly that there is no letting this man go, I was made for this, I am forever going to be bound and as this dawns on me, I change my destination and go to the west side of the office and get down on my knees bow my head and arch my back. I know my place and it isn’t away from him.

‘Good girl.’

Most times I ask myself how I got here, how I got to be so powerful, the sheer respect that I get from the populace is impressive. I guess I was always just ambitious. While some might say it looks ugly on me, I did not get this far looking pretty. That may be the reason why I may never get married, or get kids, just wasn’t meant for me. I have no regrets thus far, all is going perfectly well.

I  notice that my mind wanders too much, he has left me here for hours in the past running his empire, being the boss that he is, while I waited my chance in patience. I thought most of my father that died while I was six, God rest his soul. Even more often was my mother, the most selfless being to ever exist in my world, took many of my beatings for me, died a soldier if you ask me. I stayed with Luca for the better part of my childhood, took the beatings of course after mama died, my grace period did end, but I applaud Luca he did his best for me, see, I turned out just fine.

When I was seventeen I moved to the big city that Luca had worked so long in, with his entire savings with me, I had earned it, I built myself up, brick by brick lets not forget Lucas’ unwilling small investment in me, [I may or may not have borrowed the money the night before I ran away, depends on who’s asking.] I built a comfortable life and the best part was never getting to tend to an abusive alcoholic.  I had a good life I was content but you never really know what you’re missing till you try that unknown. when I found my complexity, I was at first astounded then as is everything in my life, i embraced him, he grew on me, just like a cancer, those terminal ones that you can never get rid of, it ends with death. I hated to think of what may have caused my little disability but heck out of sight, out of mind.

I can hear a buzzing, I know the rhythm of that buzz and immediately all thoughts vanish and I remember that I am in the four hundred square feet expanse of the office I have come to know so well. He has redecorated here and there but its the same old thing that I may or may not have cum in repeatedly. My heart beat accelerates as I watch him walk towards my phone and switch it off then turn towards me an angry flare striking his face. He lifts his hand to his tie and loosens it not completly removing then as an after thought takes it off and strides towards me, takes my hands and binds my wrrists behind me. He’s being lenient, I am grateful. I do not move, shallow breaths and hooded eyes.

‘I asked you, I asked you so many times, you rejected me, Ava I want you to remember that you left me,

YOU BROKE MY HEART!

You have no right to come back and ruin my life with her now, is the arrangement not working? I have done my best Ava I have stayed away, I have let you build your life, I have watched  you take credit for me, I have paid them all off, you did not want a life with me, bad for business, wasn’t I? Now why am I getting calls from press about an affair?’

I can feel my tears coming up, I can feel the emptiness creeping up, my past faults that I was comfortable with tearing me apart. I should not have continues seeing him, I should have taken the high road, should have ended things early eough, the web had grown too big and too complicated now. This should have been the last time, I was coming to give farewell. To let him go, yet here I am again. I have not said a word since I came. I have submitted already to a complexity that is not mine.

I need to speak, I need to leave, I need to do something, anything. I can feel the anger, I know he doesnt want to deal with my shit anymore, I  should have never leaked to the press, wrong move, wrong time, wrong man.

‘I…I….I CANT’

And just like that, for the first time in fifteen years  I cry, I can feel my heart break, tired of all the work its been doing putting up with the shit. My hands are still restrained, it is getting to my skin, it hurts I try to focuss on that and I can’t, I begin to sob and for the first time lift my eyes up to meet his. I watch the  blood drain from hes face, he looks ashy then his hands begin to shake, I have never put him so off balance. This was not the plan, so not the plan.

The shoes come off second to the tie and he kneels. This works me up even more than all the rest, he never humbles himself for me, he doesn’t come down to my level, he doesnt sink down to me, he tells me how I can get up to him, when I am ready. My tears seem not to be controlable. Well this is embarrasing. He holds my waist pulls me closer head to shoulder my sobbing body accepts this, he unwraps the tie, freeing my hands and I beggin to protest I know what I need, and it is to capitulate, to yield and not to move, to be confined within the rules, to obey, to be submissive. It is all I know the only life I have lived with them all, it’s my medicine.

He is saying no, he is freeing me, he is massaging my writs where they were tied up and looking at me, tender eyes, I cant remember tender eyes, I cannot deal with tender eyes. He then proceeds to rip my  heart right out, wraps my body into his and rocks me back and forth as if to sing

rockabye baby don’t you cry,

‘Hush there Cherie, it’s not like that this time, I got you baby, now let the demon out.’

Via Adudahera

“We Really Should Get You a Man”

He said I’m too nice I need a boyfriend. He said this with his lips on
my neck. He said this as his lips found mine and he drowned me in
passion and desire. He whispered this as I found myself so comfortable
in his hold, so content with his body pressed against mine. For a
second I thought I must have heard him wrong. For a second I thought
there is no way this man could be drinking in my soul while asking me
to find another. Later, when I lay in his arms, sweaty and breathing
deeply, I found myself wondering how messed up this is.

He kissed my forehead and held me close. He made me giggle and tickled
me- in all the spots he knows send me into playful fits. He let me
listen to his beating heart. And even quieted down into beautiful
silence just how he knows I like it sometimes. He let me play with his
neck and sit with my legs entwined around him. He listened to me
ramble on and on how I do when I’m giddy with hormones. He let me lie
on his shoulder in exhausted calm. And all this time I couldn’t
understand how he could be so blind.

He walked me home with my little palm in his. He kissed me as we
passed by a cackle of gossiping women by the market. He laughed when I
said I was high on ecstasy. He held my hand tighter when I asked him
to. But the fool still couldn’t see.

I took forever just to get on a bus… adorably moaning that I didn’t
wanna leave. So he stood there with me for what felt like hours. Just
talking. Laughing. Feeling each other. Finally when I couldn’t stay
any longer, he helped me get onto my ride home. As I hugged him and
gave it a gentle squeeze,  he kissed my cheek and said it again…
“Darling, you’re so incredibly sweet. We really should get you a man.”

Via Clover

Did We?

Did we ever make pancakes together..? Did we ever just sit at your balcony with coffee and fruit and waffles just for brunch..? Did the charming smell of cinnamon and butter ever fill the air as we milled around the kitchen making breakfast..? Did we ever talk… bond… connect as we felt the morning breeze in our faces..?
Did I ever just sit next to you, quietly reading, while you watched your movie..? Did I ever so often flick my eyes from my pages to your face so crunched up in concentration and smile secretly..? Did you press pause on your theater tings to just plant a wet kiss on my cheek, then on my nose, then on my forehead, and finally on my lips, knowing that with that, book and movie would lie forgotten..?
Did we ever play scrabble and monopoly and scream and shout like little kids..?
Did we ever take a walk in the evening, just so you could see the sunset reflected in my eyes..?
Did we ever lie on the grass watching the stars, trying to count them as they stretched across the sky..?
Did we indulge in ice cream and cake, pizza and fries, until our tummies bulged and we felt slightly ill..?
Did we ever just bask in each others glow…
Were we ever just friends..
Were we ever just in love… simply in love… blissfully in love..
Via Clover.

Dear Future Husband

I wasn’t entirely sure why I want to write to you, but now as I start, I realize that it’s more of an apology than anything else.

When I was younger, I always believed that meeting you would be so soon, it would be so immediate; because I always thought that my life belonged to you and would be defined by you.

Of course, I fell in love with the first man that swept me off my feet. Fool that I am, I was so wrapped up in my fantasies and dreams that I couldn’t see everything that was wrong with it. I couldn’t see that this was something so twisted. And every time that it hurt, every time I cried, I told myself that all I needed to do was hold on tighter; fight harder- even if that meant that my knuckles bruised and my heart bled.

See, that’s the type of person that I am. I have never been afraid to love, and when I do, I just dive into it with all that I’ve got. I don’t know how to play games. I don’t know how to limit myself. I just give with an almost insane desire to just wrap one’s world in the light of mine.

This in itself, is so freeing. To submit to love and the fierce will, it exerts upon man. I read somewhere that few are ever strong enough to allow love to inhabit their souls like that. Few are ever strong enough to surrender control of their lives to this force.

Yet I don’t know if this makes me strong or weak. Because while I know what unconditional love looks like, or at least, just a bit of it, it is also this same thing that has caused me such agony. For love, I have felt pain as real and thick as a person, living and breathing in the inside of me. For love, I have been broken, consistently, repeatedly… but I never seem to learn.

But as I sit here, fighting to not be bitter, I realize that with every broken bone, my heart turned a bit darker. With every stab, the light in me went dimmer. With every cold rejection, the little girl in me dies.

I always wanted that the woman you meet is pure, inside and out. I ever imagined that the moment I met you, I would just know. You would only do. And from that moment on, everything would be perfect. Not because we are perfect, no, for how can there ever be an ideal kind of person. But because we would both be wrapped in a perfect sort of magic that would echo the song in our joined souls. That we would walk, no longer two, but 1 being. (Maybe I watched too many movies.)

Now I fear that if you ever find me, it would be this being, half alive, desperately holding onto grace but falling ever deeper into the abyss. Now I fear that if I ever find you, you won’t be the man I always prayed for and dreamed about- and I have no idea if that will be acceptable to me. Now I fear that perhaps you don’t even exist, for how could you be, but the Universe let the other side of you weep and bleed..?

Perhaps my most significant apology is that slowly I feel myself turning into what this world has made me. A skeptic. A cold soul. A hopeless spirit. My biggest apology is that if you show up, I may be sucked in too deep into the darkness, that I may not even recognize you at all. I don’t know if that’s the worst tragedy really. Oh well, such is life I suppose.

Via Clover

Dangerous Muster

 

He racked his brains, from the moment they met, where they had been to, people they met. Any clue that he thought would be able to solve this puzzle. His brain lit up like a light bulb when he remembered the one place she had whimsically mentioned a couple of times. He had a good feeling about this one. He imaginarily high fived himself for his eidetic memory.

Quickly he picked his jacket, cell phone, wallet and left the house. He didn’t want to drive because he was not in the right state of mind. Ran to the nearest stage, got into a matatu and left for town. The lively matatu culture around him felt surreal. People boarding the matatu, others alighting, the makanga shouting, the driver blasting latest obscene Kenyan songs, all to him felt illusory. The makanga had to tap him twice when he was asked for fare and thrice to let him know he had reached CBD.

He was in his own world. As he boarded a shuttle heading to Thika, he realized that chances of her being there are subjacent. But a gnawing feeling that he might see her there was too immense. The closer and closer he got to the town, the more he catechized himself on her disappearance, him seeking her out and whether he should let her go. Then he recalled how she made him feel, her sarcasm, laughter, terrible jokes…her entire quirks and quiddities made him realize to breathe and live. She brought him a peripheral range of understanding of the world, her and himself that he hadn’t unearthed despite having a brain power than most. Yet in a transitory second he knew whatever the reason she had for abandoning the ship, was valid and him seeking her out would not make much difference. But his ache to see her, even it was one last time, won this battle.

He didn’t know the place, so he got into a cab and asked the driver if he knew the area. Luckily for him, he did. He was torn whether to go empty handed or not. Heck, he didn’t know how to act when he sees her. “It is what it is” he mumbled as the driver sped on.

The the weather was cloudy, cold and grey as if prepping him for bad news. When they got there, the gate-man didn’t allow the cab to go in. He paid, got out and asked the gate-man if he knew where Layla lives.

“Layla mgani? Hapa kwa hii estate watu ni wengi my friend” 

“Ummmm…Layla Amin?”

Blank stare from the gate-man.

“Ummm….babake alikua mkubwa pale Delmonte?”

“Ah! Si ungesema tu Amin wa Delo! Nyinyi vijana mnakuanga na maneno mingi hehehe. Hata ameingia tu saa hii kutoka sokoni. Nipe ID yako na uandike majina na numba ya simu kwa hii kitabu”

Relief with a tinge of anxiety kicked in as he wrote on. He was given instructions where Layla’s house was located. Like a man on a mission, he stepped forward and fast. He was in a high pitch fervor to see her. As he opened the gate to Layla’s house, he realized he was sweating. A quick wipe of his brows and a pat on his shirt and pants, he wished he had adorned an antiperspirant.

“She likes my smell anyway, hope that hasn’t changed.” he chuckled as he knocked on her door.

He knocked twice. No footsteps, no sound coming from inside the house. Hit harder, no answer. He twisted the door handle, and the door nudged open. He hesitated to wonder whether he should go in or not. As he stepped in, she appeared at the end of the hallway. His feet froze as her hands thawed and she let go of the cup in her hand, breaking into smithereens on her feet.

Silence…….

Via Nay Nay