Love Lost

Photo credits: Julie Cranfill: https://fineartamerica.com/featured/lost-love-julie-cranfill.html

I bought new panties today. The kind that make me feel sexy and lovable.

In my mind am thinking of you, and the things that actually make me love you

this much. I have never fallen in love before and there's something different

about you. I can give my life for you. Everything, because I love you. I know this

because I feel it deep in my bones. Literally.

I met you when I was naive and I never, in my wildest dreams, thought that you'd

impact my life the way you did. But you did. I look at our picture, the one we

took at Lake Elementaita and you told me not to upload it because you'd lied at

the office that you were sick, and that you wouldn't like to be caught in a lie.

That one. I look at it most times wondering why I love you so much. Seven years

on and maturity has caught up. I am thinking deeply, consulting widely and

knowledge has it that an overhaul is inevitable. You don't treat me as I should

be treated, and you never listen to my voice.

See, one thing I know about me is that I loathe repeating myself. With an intense

passion. It takes really close friends and persons of interest to know this. But you

don’t get it. After all this time together, you still don't know this about me. It

saddens me that you don't get this one thing, yet we've been together, What?

Seven years now?

But why? These and many more questions make me doubt what we have. Not

for lack of love, but for lack of trust. Trust that you got me, you got all of me like

I got all of you.

I get that you like you eggs sunburnt, your tea concentrated and your ugali not

soaked in your stew. I get all that, yet you don't get that I loathe repeating

myself. I have to think a little bit harder. I have to question everything. You say

you love me but do you even know my history when it comes to love?

I know yours: stuff about how your ex swindled you off some cash, or even how

she is a complete bitch. I may care much to know her or her story but I know

you. I knew you. I loved you. I believed you.

So I decided not to pry, that's what good girlfriends do, right? They love without

questioning. To know love was enough. You kept saying it wasn't enough but I

knew, and hoped, in my profound naivety it was enough. That's why it was easy

for you to let me spend the night in the rain. I know, I know, I should've been

smarter but what's that they say about experience being the best teacher?

Right...

So, I still couldn't get you out of my system, I lurked on like some evil spirit,

hovering around. Everyone saw it but I was blind. I don't see it even now, not

entirely, but I know deep down I can do better. Don't get me wrong, though am

not sure if I care that you get me wrong, but truth is that I am alone and feeling

good about it. I feel more alive now.

You had mastered your art. Make her love you and believe that she can't live

without you. Show up twice a year and rock her world, then disappear for

another year. Make her think that you've been busy building the nation and her

demands for attention and love are but childish. Make her yearn for your alpha-

male character and kill her with your charm. Never show her your real friends,

in fact, make her believe that you have no friends because you are your own

man. Oh! And never forget to reiterate that you are (were?) never married,

you've been waiting for her only that you are careful never to leave your phone

switched on when with her.

Promise her the world, make promises you can't keep. Only make them real.

Make excuses each time you fail her and make your failure her fault for insisting

on the impossible situations that warrant the failure. Feign disappointment at

her failure to understand why you couldn't keep your promises, blame her for

your own inconsistencies and make her apologise thereafter. That's when you

know you have her by the tits! Then, sit back as you ignore her incessant phone

calls. Make her beg for answers and enjoy while she cries herself to sleep weeks

on end. Only and only then can you know for sure that she's yours. Bound to

you. Forever. It goes on and on.

One thing you became imprudent of is that a human being, male or female, has

a breaking point. And I reached it. I began knowing that I can be better on my

own.

Now…

I never get to hear from you anyway and, in all these days, I am a brighter version

of myself. On my own.

I did cry night on end, my brain got sick, and my heart bled each time my text

went unanswered. Not anymore. I questioned my very existence and wondered

when and how I lost all my freedom. When I lost myself to this kind of love.

Whether my love for you was some kind of sorcery that had no cure, or worse.

Yes, am an African like that. I became a shadow of myself. Literally. I walked

around and everything reminded me of you, everything in my world revolved

around you. Advice from friends became noise and gibberish arguments that I

wished they'd save because the heart wants what it wants. You'd go missing in

action and I'd frantically look for you. Make you come to me, I only wanted to

hear you say that you love me, that you loved me. Then the circle would begin.

I tried moving on, don't get it twisted. When I knew you weren't what I thought

you’d be I went searching. I looked for you in all the guys I tried moving on with.

I convinced myself that if I didn’t talk about you or think about you, then

somehow I'd move on. Because thinking about you and talking about you was

like thinking about a drug. Heroin. I got hooked, but now I want to be better.

Never was I there, and each time I tried I failed miserably. I got hurt a lot of times

that I got numb. They treated me worst that you ever did. Maybe my judgement

of them was prejudiced, haunted by your spectre, but it was what it was.

So, this is me choosing me. It has been a long time coming. Part of the reason

why I held on so tightly is the many years I invested in us. Dr Phil (Yes, Dr Phil!)

once said that you can't afford to invest more than you afford to lose, but I did.

And was always scared to watch seven years of my youth, the best times of my

life, go to waste. I looked for lessons that everyone likes to say, “Lesson learnt.”

But I am not sure if I learnt anything.

All I know is that I am peaceful now.

Peace within myself. Peace with myself. I miss you but my peace overrides

missing you and your numerous failed promises, inconsistencies and contempt.

Though alone, I am a little bit happier. This, I have found, matters more than a

couple of poorly slit wrists. I have found happiness in myself. (A happiness that

am grateful for, otherwise I'd be dead).

Love Lost

By Janet Kilel
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