Finally out of the Drafts; Musing #1

Today I write because I have made a pact to turn in two pieces each week. Knowing me, I would say that's not at all sustainable. But today I would sit pretty and channel my violent tendencies onto my laptop. At least it would only highlight my mistakes in red instead of flat-out saying I'm saying nonsense.

I write because, in this form, I don't hear the voice questioning everything I say or telling me what to do. I have imagined love; I have aspired to love (maybe marriage); or so I thought, as long as my memory could permit me. You know those 5-tier cakes with those stairways and the bride and groom? The messy order of photographs had the emcees going on and on about the list of people, the couple had to take photos with. And hell, it was chaotic, but it's me; I live for chaos. All I knew at 4 was the beautiful dress that the lovely aunties had to wear, and then the smoky, tasty jollof and beef waiting for me after. With the way we were training with the husband's house narrative, I might as well look forward to the ceremony that precedes the relocation to the husband’s house.

I have dated three people in my lifetime, two of whom I have loved deeply, and I will tell you for free. While some parts of me have remained, I must admit that I have shrunk. I have let off some part of my being for them, subconsciously or intentionally. The endgame? To be the one to be accepted and loved (unconditionally; quite the irony, yeah?). The journey to being the one takes us through so much, contorting ourselves to become the perfect being

Yet, as I stare at the screen, pouring my heart onto this page, doubt creeps in like a thief in the night. Can I truly be a good enough lover? The weight of my past and present relationships lingers, haunting me like a shadow that I can't shake off. Have I given enough? Have I been attentive to their needs and desires? It's like a puzzle I can never seem to solve—a puzzle that makes me question whether I have what it takes to love deeply and unconditionally.

Comments

Loving The Stethoscope

Who needs Dopamine transmission? being with you does the trick- anon On Loving the stethoscope… When I took the plunge I had no idea what the water currents felt like, if there’s one major decision which put me at crossroads of should I or shouldn’t i. It was the decision to date HND. What I know for sure is that after the first month or so everything changes, you get to be around this person more often and you get really comfortable around this person. I was quite comfortable at the beginning anyway but I obviously had my reservations, I remember this evening he was walking me down to where I can board a car; it was dark (thanks to the children of the underworld who stole solar panels for the university street lights) well if you know me well you’d know seeing well in the dark is an extreme sport for me most times I would walk right into a puddle before I realize. Well, he had seen a gutter ahead and offered to hold my hands to cross over in my stubbornness I told him “no...

"LOVE" AND THE COFFEE SHOP

Time after time I always envisaged the day I’d find love in a coffee shop, so I had a lot of coffee and a caffeine addiction. So I sat in coffee shops reading novels while sipping on my hot creamy coffee hoping that one day “love” would bump into me spilling my coffee on my “Sefi Attah” and I would bend over to rescue my book drowning in the small puddle of creamy coffee, and maybe like those western movies he would be a perfect gentleman who would get to it before I do and apologise profusely and maybe offer to buy me another cup. Or perhaps I felt “Love” would sit at the other end of the coffee shop taking quick glances at my book cover and ask out of curiosity why I choose to read Mario Puzo’s “ The Godfather” or Sun Tzu’s “ art of war” and probably tell me how he finds it intriguing that I make such book choices. After a long debate on God knows what I’d remember I have to get to a meeting and I could rush out leaving him with no contacts, but its “ Love” anyway. He wo...

GROWING UP AN ONLY CHILD

Growing up as only child has giving me a rare view of life, I’ve been constantly tagged with the only child syndrome with this tag which is somewhat overwhelming most times. Just to correct the notion I don’t think any child decides to be an only child really, we should stop that. I’m an only child and aside growing up without siblings I don’t think I’m less of a human being than people with siblings. I never personally chose my status as an only child. The feeling that comes with being an only child could be somewhat contradictory at some points, one minute I’m excited about the new video game my dad bought for me and the next I feel bad because I’ve seen the game is fun in a two player mode, one moment I’m excited about my big box of clothes and the next I wonder what it would have felt like if I had senior sister to give me hand-me-downs or a younger sister who would constantly borrow my clothes and wear them when they feel I’ve forgotten. This roller-coaster f...

TalkBlog

Search This Blog