Don't come looking for me

Before you set out an army to find me
I want you to recall our last encounter
Remember the tremor of my soul
That coupled with goosebumps in my chest
Before you decide to come for me
Remember all those cold nights we had
The quietly whispered fights that shredded only our tears and broke only our hearts.
All those cold words that cut to our guts.
Awakening only that which would burn our souls
So before you come looking for me
Listen rather to your heart
Whose brokenness fights to anchor you still.

Do not come looking for me
Even when the sky turns black
And you recall all the rain we danced so colorfully to
Do not hold your hand out for me
The part of me that loved you fiercely is gone
My hand tremors in your presence
I'm aware of all that beauty we were
I'm convinced of all the pain we left
So don't come looking for me
I will not take your hand

Listen, beautiful things seize with time
Even roses whither with age
Some things end with genuine "I'll miss you" 's
Truly meant but, never implied to hold
So don't come looking for me
I have truly love with you, neither falsely, nor infinitely

pieces of my soul

Don't be afraid to hold my hand.
these cuts and blood are only a failed attempt to fix my soul
Worry rather about that pieces on the floor.
That fire that was my soul is as sharp as a blade.
See, all that love i once felt inside.
Its scattered across this dirty floor.
Listen, these pieces dont confront my fear.
Ive survived even the wildest storms.
I have lived with a broken heart half my life.
Surviving only on parts and pieces.
This soul may never feel the same again.
But somewhere in these pieces I still reside.
Breaking, broken, but here alive.
Dont worry about all this love lost.
Ive never fully known its worth.
Its been unexplored all my life.
Two loves Ive known since birth.
The warmth of a mother's love.
The highest was nailed up on that cross.

beyond the value of my skin

I watched myself get consumed by you
With that scent that was almost never new
Almost always mine, but never really ours
I sold my soul to you
Covered up all that hurt with desire
Because my mind was screaming pain that my heart feared to feel
I sold my soul to you
Broken as it were
And you a willful buyer
I gave my body to you
Never asking in return
Because i did not need you to love me
But my soul begged for recognition
I gave you the corners of my body
To explore, to desire but never to love
Love would be too hard on my soul
This piece is not about desire
This is a poem about recognition
I needed you to see beyond the sky high walls
That so roughly cover my heart
I needed you to see the human, even when you couldn't love her
She did not need any loving
She needed someone to see her
I sold you my broken soul
You a willful buyer
Who failed to recognize my worth beyond the contours of my skin

In the name of love

Love, may you grant me a little time to breathe
May you untie my wrists for eternity's length
I experienced you wrath before i knew your worth
From my mother's womb, i felt your inflicted pain
When my mother's fragile bones hit on that wall
I felt you incubated kindness when she whispered a promise
An unkept promise of hope to my unformed bones
Only to feel you wrath when her skin bruised blue
I felt your shadow before i knew your presence
So, give me a little time to breathe
Before i am completely consumed by your waves
I watched my mother die for you
I buried her exhausted soul in your name
For her i choose to live

Don't sent me any flowers today
Don't write me love letters of false romance
You do not know the roots from which i was birthed
The soil that anchors my being is laid upon a crust of hurt
My soul was conceived in tears and born of pain
See, i have seen these scars , experienced their wrath before
I cried over them on my birth bed at sight of my mother's face
I first knew those scars before my eyes saw the world
Do not hand me those flowers
Even when their rosy pink clearly intoxicates me
I will not let you make pain from such beautiful creations
Watch me leave, walk away
My daughters will not bury me in your name
I'd rather have life than roses of false hope
I will not die in the name of love

Healing Home

Our bodies are carved with scars of survival
Our wounds are yet to stop bleeding
There is no place for our pity
The ceilings are low and the air is thick
We have lived our whole lives in survival
Running, and sinking, barely breathing
We have known that we were conceived in pain
Born with pain engraved in our souls
Forced to live in fear of love
We have survived our fate but our bones are yet to heal
Our souls have grown weary
There are thorns on our pathways
The walls are covered in blood
My heart presses down on my chest
The pit of my stomach feels heavy
I can feel my throat closing up
Healing requires experience
Experience of a past we wish to escape
To feel the pain of yesterday
Experience the grief of that choking past
Until we feel the fear disappear
There is no cookies and warm milk here
This house is filled with dispersed pain
This home feeds of our broken souls
Until we attain desired peace
There are no flowers here
This house requires we grow our own
Until anger or forgiveness is ours too keep

hi guys

this week on the blog il be sharing poetry on domestic violence and sexual assault.Apologies for being AWOL for quite some time. hope you enjoy it. thank you for reading

you left me

the cold now lives within me 
the wind blows through my hair as if it were rehearsed 
my heart is now numb and the heavy rain blinds my eyes 
the sunshine feels miles away 
im frezzing inside my skin 
you left me 
and you never looked back 

you see, i used to be warm
before you dragged me out into the cold
before you told me you'd stand by me
i used to be beautiful
my heart felt the warmness of love
and when you said you'd be there,
i believed you
you left me out in the snow
you shut your door and you sealed it locked
and you did not even look to see if id cry

you shut your door on me
you left me holding on to yesterday
yesterday when you opened your arms to keep me warm
yesterday when you looked at me and saw love
you shut your house on me and you never looked back
you left me freezing in the cold
you set up fire in your house
and you used the wood i helped you chop
you did not even peep through the window
you left me freezing in the storm

i stood there covered in snow
i hoped that you'd return
or at least look to see if im ok
you left me out here and you never looked back
you remained warm inside your house and you did not even break
one of those days i started walking
i did not know into which direction i was headed
somewhere along that line i stopped hoping
i stopped believing
i stopped looking back
i couldnt make myself look back at you
i knew you wouldnt be there looking back at me
to you i had become a one of the snowman
cold and numb outside your house
unworthy of your love
undeserving of your kindness
to you i had become your past 

Letting go

my father once said to me. "if you hold your puppy to tight you will squeeze the life out of it". back then i did not understand, because i did not have a puppy and even though i wanted one. he never thought i was ready for it. " the risk is, if you let it go. let it breathe. see the world, it might run off" he continued. i still did not understand. the most crucial part and i must say, the one that most applied to my life was "give it the choice, you cant make it stay.". sometimes i find myself repeating these words after him in my mind. sometimes i cry to the echoing sound that seems to cloud my mind. "you cant make it stay"

my name is Lucy, and when my puppy came i couldn't have known it was him, because it came in the form of a man i loved so dearly. James, James White. People used to say I'll end up with him, that he and i were meant to be. i loved him. i would have done anything to keep him. i used to dream that he would be the one to father my children and that i would one day walk down the isle, my brother holding my hand and he would be at the end of the alter. many times we had broken up. and every time i found myself apologizing and waiting for him. sometimes we'd go months in a break up and id wait for him. i loved him and i thought i couldn't have no-one but him. my heart had become so programmed for him that even when i told myself no more waiting, my subconscious would still wait.

James and i had been together for a little over 5 years. he was the kind of man that every girl would have loved to marry. he was loving and present. i never had to worry about him with other women. sometimes i think we had been through it all, that we'd be able to survive anything, and sometimes that dream would be snatched from me and id be left with doubt. in all his loving and presence, James made me feel overwhelmed. especially when we were not together. And although i loved him, it felt as though he was turning me into someone else, someone that, although i recognized, was not me. He was turning me into a younger, less happy image of himself. i had learnt to be like him. to think like him, to be him and somewhere along the way i disappeared, so much so that all that was left of me was him. i was so consumed in his idea of love that i had forgotten my own. Love was supposed to be liberating,

it took me a year to realize that i was not happy anymore. And he had mentioned to me in a fight that he wasn't happy. i knew he was happy. i knew i would never be good enough for him. Not because i'm a terrible human being. in fact, i like to think i'm a good person, but because James was not looking for a girl like me. i knew i wasn't that girl, but the idea of letting go and moving on terrified me. All my hopes and dreams of being in a family, happy were with him and changing them scared me. I loved James, i still do, And i believe that somewhere in his heart, James loved me too.

letting go is not easy. I have come to believe that destiny is created, not certain. I could have chosen to marry James, squeeze my puppy, but i let him go, set him free so that someday, he may be happy, with someone new. A perfect owner for my puppy. "You cant make him stay" my daddy had said, and he was right, you can never make anyone stay. no matter how much you love them, how much you want them to stay. I would have loved for James to stay, but deep down i knew he would have loved for me to change. Love changes some things in you, that is a fact,love lets you be, love liberates you, love gives you a headache sometimes, sometimes it makes you cry, love lets you grow with time, love lets you find your path, but love doesn't completely transform you. it leaves space for your true nature to exist. One night in the depth of a heated fight, James said to me "i'm not happy lately", i hesitated, i cried, but in the end i replied "the truth is, you are not happy with me" oh, i remember how painful it felt, but i did not stop "if you are so unhappy, get up, walk away, let go" and a few days later he did. i'm not waiting anymore, my heart is not waiting. subconsciously, instead of waiting, i'm fixing myself. "you cant make him stay" i still hear my father's echoing voice in my head. "if you hold your puppy too close, you will squeeze the life out of him"

what shall she do with her broken soul?

 once in a while she sits in front of her mirror
alone in her room she sits
she looks past the makeup that hides her tear trails
behind her ghost smile that hides her pain
she sits by herself,
to look deep into her soul
inside where no-one has never been
and she every time she finds it still
she feels it strong and violent
it keeps her awake at night
and kills her slowly inside
because she knows her broken heart will mend
time will fix her mind
but what shall she do with her broken soul?
the pain she suffers feels eternal
lasting until she closes her eyes forever
it drags her down and swallows her whole
it tears her apart in every way
she has forgotten who she is or why she is
she picks up a mask every morning before she leaves
she puts it on to hide her grief
but inside she grieves, she cries,
oh! she shouts and she screams
because she cannot stand the throb of her broken soul
she knows the heart will heal with time
a broken wrist heals with age
broken nails grow with weeks
oh, but her soul!
her soul that used to be so cheerful
her soul that loved without measure
her soul that made her beautiful within
what shall she do with her broken soul?
in her room alone she cries
it is now alone that she can truly grieve,
the death of her unbroken soul
oh! what shall she do with her broken soul?

 

dear readers

apologies for inactivity in the blog. i am happy to announce that the blog will be up and running again as from next week.

nothing quite as painful

Its a feeling truly inevitable 
Like sunrise at dawn 
Or sunset at night, 
A day will come, 
When grey clouds will linger 
and the heart will ache 
With tears so strong, so bitter 
That one will see that 
There is nothing quite as painful 
Quite as awful 
As sleeping with a broken heart 

Many have cried 
Over a broken nail 
Or an aching tooth 
A lost battle 
Or a lasting war 
An aching head 
Or a painful bone 
But nothing is quite as painful 
Quite as awful 
As the throb of a broken heart 

That slow firm spin 
That lingers for a while 
That sobbing sound 
Groomed by the deepest pain 
No-one quite understands 
Those tears that burn 
Or that heart that bleeds 
Some wounds may heal, 
Some may fade, 
this one stops bleeding 
But still remains 
Droughts may strike 
And floods may come 
But there is nothing quite as painful 
Quite as awful 
As sleeping with a broken heart

love's confusion

Deep words can only express a poet's views
deep meaning expresses his feelings n opinion
And a broken heart sorts meaning and worth
While love sometimes feels broken but true

A cycle of confusion rises from misunderstood love
Leaving at times a feeling unexplainable
while questions and quarrels blossom in our hearts
uncertain of whether to go on or not
Whether its my heart alone that feels this love

Its grief and joy for lost but lasting love
A true image of mixed feelings
One's heart wonders if its loving separately that could spare its beat
But feels the need to hold on dearly until the end..

out-cried

The pain deep inside my heart
It pierces like a thousand knives
Too deep to endure
To strong to face
Yet the tears that should flow
They hide beneath my skin
I try hard to face them
To let them flow with ease
But my heart refuses to cry
My tears deny you victory
Why oh why does it hurt?
And yet I cannot grieve at all
Cry oh beloved heart
Cry and set me free
Let me grieve and be free
For as long as you are within me
I shall never see the light

i picked a flower today

I picked a flower today
Pink and rosy it was
Its leaves spreading from its core
In a strong, but lazy manner
It brinks with peace
Although not the strongest colour,
Its leaves did put a smile on my face
Its smell was unforgettable
Pure, rich, extraordinary
Like a thousand roses put in one

I picked a rose today
A rose so fair, so beautiful
It reminded me my inner child
No anger, no sorrow, no tears
A rose of peace I say

I picked a flower today
And it represented beauty
Beauty and glory
Its fairness, so brilliant
Its beauty was amazing
So amazing, only a sole reason explains
The planter dug a hole and planted a seed,
Watered and un weeded
But such fairness is not of human power
Such beauty is of glory
I picked a flower today
Planted by man
created by a living God

tonight i miss you

This pain...
I simply cannot explain
My thoughts toss and turn
They take me back to it
Yes, to what used to be
What could have been
Dare I say it?
Yes, what exists not!

Some nights I miss you
Some nights I miss your voice
Your singing
Those silly impressions that got me smiling in my sleep
Some nights I miss it all

Some nights I look into the mirror
And see what used to be me
Yes the same face that looked
Oh, that same face that smiled
Before the drought
The face that looked before the flood
Before it all, before all the tears
Before I fell

Some nights I look and smile
I smile at how I've grown
How I learnt to be
And maybe I found a portion of myself
In the sadness I found me
Some nights I miss you
Tonight is one of them

take me back to the beauty of the first love

Take me back to that time
The time of a beautiful first love
Where nothing but the purity of our hearts' love mattered
When love was not determined by how many diamonds he can buy me
Or how many dinner dates he can afford
Where love was planted in our hearts and blossomed there
When love letters still made us smile
And playing silly games together had meaning

Take me back to those beautiful days
When that beautiful lady was attracted to his heart and not his wallet
And a woman's heart was what a man sought in her
Where a woman believed she was beautiful, not because of her hair, but because of her heart
When love was genuine and pure

When falling in love still brought butterflies to her stomach
And in his eyes, she saw her husband
A time when a man loved so purely, so beautifully
That in her eyes, he saw the mother to his kids

Take me back to that time
When love didn't have to be so expensive
And simple things made relationships
When he knew she loved him
And she didn't have to guess he loved her
A time when love had meaning still
When a single rose meant, to a woman, what a diamond necklace means today
Take me back
Oh! take me back to the beauty of the first love

Assembling Yesterday's Puzzle

His question felt rather strange. Of course I knew him. I had loved him once, ten years ago to be exact.  I was eighteen back then and today standing in front of him was strange.  “I’m sorry” he said again looking deep in my eyes as if he could see right through me “Do I know you?” He knew me and I knew him. He had been coming to this library for the past two weeks at noon for the past two weeks and I had seen him gaze at me for hours although I pretended not to notice. I had seen him struggle everyday to remember why he felt he knew the nerdy librarian sitting behind the computer and today he had walked up to me and finally asked. I looked at him with a tender smile “me?” I asked, looking behind my chair to confirm, but I knew he was talking to me. “Yes you miss” he said. For a moment I felt a bit annoyed that he had addressed called me miss, although it is quite true that I’m not married. I wondered how he guessed it. It suddenly occurred to me that he had been the only person who had been able to read through me. He only had been able to see the tears behind my brilliant smile. Perhaps he could see right through me, perhaps he could see all the lonely tears that I hide so much. Maybe that tragic accident had not taken that ability from him. Maybe it really had not erased all of his past from his mind as the newspapers and television had reported. I remember when I saw this on front cover of daily news; it had been “Ryan McCarthy-sport beast loses his memory after tragic accident”. I had wondered if he would remember me and that one year when he meant everything to me. “I’m sorry sir, I have to attend to the group of students standing in line” I don’t think he had noticed the queue forming behind him. “What time is your lunch break? Can I talk to you then?” he asked pleadingly. I smiled and nodded and watched him return to the chair and looked at me as I shifted my attention back to the students who were waiting patiently.

I watched as the clock slowly approached my lunch hour and still he was looking at me. I imagined thousands and thousands puzzle pieces in his mind that didn’t seem to make any sense.  I could only imagine waking up and not knowing who I had been. I looked at him, his gaze didn’t leave me and he never once looked like he was losing his patience. He just sat there looking; just starring, like he was holding a puzzle piece but didn’t know where it fit in. one o clock, I saw the time on my wrist watch but I felt my legs stiffen, my feet cold with fear. Not the kind of fear one would feel at gun point, the kind of fear that one feels before a test, before an exam. He walked up to me “it’s your lunch hour, I know. I’ve been studying you for the last two weeks. “I smiled at him and made the library lunch announcement. “Attention all library users, the library is now closed until 2pm. You are all requested to leave the premises” it was odd that the library had to close, but they could only afford to employ one librarian when they opened this library three months ago and I had been lucky to be chosen.  Everyone walked out of the library and i closed the door behind them. Now they were alone and i felt the fear intensify. He didn’t scare me, rather he made me nervous.

 

we sat down. “Do you know me?” he asked. “Of course I know you. Who doesn’t?  You are Ryan McCarthy”. He smiled realising that it had been a silly thing to ask although he didn’t quite remember how big of a sports star he was. “You are teasing me” he giggled. “Do I know you?” his expression now serious. I hesitated a bit, looked down for a while and nodded. “Yes, you know me Ray” I said calling like I used to ten years ago with hope to trigger memory. “Ray “he repeated after me, and then his eyes lit up as if he got a glimpse of the past. He looked deep in my eyes. “Ray” he repeated again and again. “Tiffany” he said my name at last. I couldn’t help but smile, blush.  “Tiffany Hamilton” he said looking more excited.  “Nerdy Tiff, book freak” he said like a child. “Hey!” I laughed. “You don’t have to remember that”. We spoke for a while. He asked me questions about myself, I also did and he seemed to remember more and more details of his life although a big chunk of it still lingered in memory. I did not tell him how we used to be in love and I don’t think he remembered it. It hurt me quite a bit, but I wanted him to remember it himself. If that year had been as great for him as it was for him, he’d surely remember I told myself. He looked at me again “but it’s deeper than that isn’t it? “He asked “Don’t tell me, I’ll remember, maybe not today, but I will.”

 

He didn’t remember that day or the day after that when he brought me lunch or the weekend after that when we went out for movies. He just didn’t remember. I didn’t complain though, I loved his company and we were fast becoming friends. Ryan came by the library a lot. We would sit and talk during my breaks and he would come to my place and we would sit and talk for hours. Sometimes when conversations became intense, I thought he’d remember, but he didn’t. Sometimes I’d see him studying me and I’d think he’d remember, but he didn’t. Soon I gave up on him remembering and just enjoyed the company of the man who had fast become my best friend. “You are my best friend” he said to me one day over a game of truth or dare and I smiled at him. “You are mine too” I replied and we both smiled.

One Sunday night he knocked on my door, about eight months since he asked me if I knew him. I was quite surprised to see him. He usually called before he came over. "hi Ray" I smiled, he smiled too and came in. we sat and spoke for a while and then he said something that caught me off-guard. "how can a woman like you still be single Tiff?" he asked me sounding a bit serious. "heartbreak can deprive a woman of the ability to love" I said sounding a bit sad. " You love me, don't you Tiff? As a friend, I mean, you love me" he said smiling at her. "of course I do, but its the only way I can love" I said. My answer didn't quite satisfy him an I could see it in his eyes. We spoke until late, until he decided he had to go. I gave him a hug at the door. "Its deeper than this Tiff, and I'll remember" he said that and left.

H didn't remember, not that night, not the following month, or in the following six months. I had stopped hoping and I thought he had stopped remembering until one day before he left the library. he walked up to me after having sat and looked at me for three hours. "July the 2nd" he had said this and left. I was left stunned for a while. "July the 2nd" I had repeated after he left. Did I know this day? of course I did. We had met on July the 2nd, eleven years ago and separated a year later when he got a scholarship to pursue his career in sport in Germany. I was happy for him, and I wanted him to take the opportunity and he did. Years later he was a sportsman, a big one and I was where I had to be. I was a librarian with eight published novels and 26 short stories. I loved my job, being around books inspired me. That night he knocked on my door. " I remember" he said. "I remember that year Tiff." he smiled and kissed me. "The deep feeling, I know what it is. It's love. I remember how we danced next to the lake back in Florida. I remember the games we used to play and the love in your eyes. we were different, different but in love" he said this and he hugged me  tight. "Now I know why a woman like you is still alone, she is a waiting for a man like me to remember" I smiled. I loved him. "Don't deny it Tiff, I still see the love in your eyes and its beautiful, its intense. its the same love I saw when we danced next to the lake" I hugged him, This was the start of beautiful story. Every year on the 2nd of July we talk about our beautiful love story, about our year in Florida, our time apart and when he remembered, when he assembled the scattered puzzle pieces of his past.    

 

Strange Mother : My father's love, my mother's neglect

"Goodness!" Melinda sighed. she knew it was coming. She had been expecting the results for weeks now. She felt a bit of resentment to what she was about to see. She resented her parents, how could they just leave her to grow up with strangers. then she felt a bit of guilt. they had not been strangers until three months ago when they told her she was an adopted child. She loved them dearly. They had raised her like their very own. She had never felt like an outcast to the family. They loved her dearly, took her to school, gave her all the love a child could ask for. They were paying for her college education. They called her their daughter. They dropped her off in Berry villae college and picked her up every semester. Her brothers and sisters loved her like she was one of their own. And she was, they never once made her feel unwelcome. She picked up her cellphone and dialled the home telephone number. At once Josh was at the other end, His now deepening voice brightened up when he heard her voice. "sis, we never hear from you much these days, parties keeping you busy?" he chuckled. "oh dear brother" she said sarcastically "art thou not too young to ask me about parties" she giggled. They spoke for a short while and then she asked for her mom. " Mom, i got the envelope' she said in a now serious tone. " Oh dear, what does it say?" her mom answered in an even more serious tone. "I didn't want to open to open them alone" she said with her voice now shaking with emotion. She felt cold tears stream down her face. Why did it hurt her so much? She resented her biological mother and now finding out who she really was felt like a sharp pain in her heart. the gathered the courage to answer her mom who was now asking repeatedly if she was okay.

"No mom, I'm not okay" she cried  more heavily. "what did i ever do to her? why did she hate me so much that she had to give me away? I am not yours but you've loved me more than she could ever love me. why does she all of a sudden just show up and claim me as hers. you took care of me. you nursed me, you bathed me. you loved me as your very own, i love you mom" she said this and broke down even more. "Melinda, now listen to me. you've always been mine. i love as my own because because you are nothing less than that. you are my own" she said, now with tears also. she understood all too well what Melinda was feeling right now, She too had been an adopted child. Melinda held the envelope, hesitating a bit, and whispering to her mom "Mom, this will not change anything, will it?'  "Not a thing" her mother replied. She opened it and there it was. Dianne Wesley was her biological mother. the woman now laying in a hospital bed in need of a kidney was her mother.

It was a cold day. The snow was light but cold. she wore her red leather jacket and black jeans. The large wrap-around scarf that she wore made her look more chic. Her family was picking her up today. This time they were not taking her home. This time she was going to Dream Ville hospital, to see the woman who was her mother. She  went in. The room felt rather cold. She looked at her, she looked helpless; like she could close her eyes and it would be the end of her. Dianne looked at her and smiled. "you came" she found the strength to speak. Melinda just looked at her. She resented this woman. She felt neglected. "Why did you leave me?" she asked, with a lot of resentment in her voice. Dianne's smiled disappeared. " I was young. Your father had just died in a drunken accident. I was only 18. I was a drug addict, i didn't have any form of education, no job, no money, my family didn't want anything to do with me. I was too young, too stupid, too unstable, i couldn't take care of you. I couldn't give you anything. "

Melinda did not move, she did not smile. She just stood there looking at Dianne for a while and then she spoke with anger in her voice "You can't take care of me now. Why did you find me? You need a kidney, and I can give you one, can't I? ". Dianne said nothing, she sobbed heavily; her eyes deep with regret and pain. She felt something she had never felt before. The feeling of being selfless. she did not want the kidney, not from Melinda. Thinking about it, it made perfect sense. Wouldn't a sick mother who gave away a baby look for her when she needed a kidney? Desperation can do that to people, but she knew in her heart that this was not the reason she was here. She knew why she had come to look for her daughter. She had been looking for her for three years now, long before she knew she had kidney stones. She had been having dreams about the daughter she abandoned, wondering how she turned out and now here she was, her baby girl, more beautiful than she had ever imagined, but the resentment, the hate in her eyes was deep, so deep even she could sense it.

"Who is was my father?" Melinda whispered, looking straight at Dianne and sensing the pain in her. She didn't say anything for a while, she just cried even more. Melinda sensed a lot of pain in her, like there was something about her father that still haunted Dianne. It had been 19 years ago when he died, but she still sensed  the  love in her pain, like he had been the only man she loved. "James, that was his name, James Woods, your father loved me and he loved you. I remember how much he begged me to keep you, he begged me to quit drinking and  drugs. He begged me to go back to school. I loved him to, sometimes i feel like he is  the only man I can claim to have loved, but maybe I didn't love him the way he loved me or I would have fought to be a better person for him. He died in an accident, the other driver was drunk and he crashed into him and at that moment I knew I had to let you live, even when I knew I couldn't take care of you. I knew in my heart that you deserved a better life; a life that James would have given you had he had the chance to live. That  is why I gave you up, because I didn't want to take away from your childhood." With this Melinda cried, she felt guilt build up in herself, but she was not one to be easily manipulated. "Why didn't you just change yourself and keep me? Why didn't you change for my father? You kept me for him, why couldn't you change for him?" she said this and left. She still hated her, she did, but in a way she felt sorry for her.

 

At home Melinda sat and cried. She wished she had met her father. She imagined him as the perfect father in the world. Not more perfect that the man she had grown to know as her father, he had loved her unconditionally and had treated her as his daughter. She knew in her heart that it took a great man, a wonderful man to do something like that especially if they had kids of their own, but with James she felt a deeper bond, this is a man who had loved her before he knew her, a man who had begged for her to live. This was a man   who loved her, he was the reason she was alive now. For Dianne she had mixed feelings. She felt neglected and abandoned by her. what do you do when a strange woman, who is your mother show up in need of a kidney. The words tossed and turned in her head "strange mother" she whispered. Do you forgive how she abandoned you and help her or do you turn a blind eye and ignore her existence the same way she left you? That night she didn't sleep at all. Her mind kept her awake. Tomorrow she would know what to do and whatever she chose to do would change her life.  Whatever she did, in the end, she would be a different person. How? She did not know but she it would change her life forever    

 

       

Seven years behind

I was 18 when I last saw him. He was tall and had deep brown eyes. I remember the last time I saw him. It was after our breakup. We had been together for almost two years.  Had I known then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have loved him the way I did, the way I do. I am 25 now, just started my job as an industrial engineer. A lot has changed since the last time I saw Vincent. I’ve become more independent, more educated, more matured and more aware; especially when it comes to matters of the heart. So here I am; not planning to get acquainted, not planning to love and here he is, seven full years later, standing at my doorstep with carnations in his hands. I have always loved carnations. The deep pink in their smooth leaves always made my heart melt. I loved these flowers. If I recall correctly, he was the last person to ever buy me carnations.

I stood there puzzled, not sure what to do, I could slam this door in his face right now. I could close this door the way he closed his heart on me seven years ago. I could forget him now like I tried seven years ago, but I did not, I smiled, “Vince, Vincent Jacobs” I said, trying hard not to show the pain in my eyes. He smiled, handing to me the most beautiful carnations I’ve ever seen. Maybe it is because the last time I saw these was seven years ago, or maybe it’s the contrast between my love for the flower and the resentment I felt in my heart for this man that made these flowers look more remarkable. “Hello, Jennifer”, he said my name in full. He never did, unless there was something serious going on, but I didn’t ask. I am rather too grown up to be playing mind games. “Thank you” I said, absorbing the sweet scented smell of the flowers and inviting him in with my right hand.

I offered him a drink, he asked for tea. I knew how he liked it, but I asked, it had been seven years and things change in seven years. I excused myself as he drank the tea; I felt the need to change my clothes for he had caught me at a bad time. I was studying for my MBA exams. I was dressed in my short pyjama pants and wrapped in my morning gown.  I went to my room to change and when I came back he was still sipping on the tea. I sat down and asked him in a rather confusing way “What do you want?” I said this with a smile as bright as dawn, but my voice cold as ice. He looked at me, sensing the tension in my tone, but choosing to ignore it. “Jennifer” he whispered “I’ve missed you”. I did not dare smile, nor did I show any emotion. I wasn’t going to let the only man who made me weak know how much I missed him; how much I loved him, for I did, I loved him deeply. But he would never know. I wasn’t going to let this man know.  I loved him, but I resented him. I loved him because he had made a mark in my heart and I hated him because he had left it there when he walked out of my life.

I was only 18, young, bright and full of life. It was my first year in college. I was adjusting. I remember how I blamed myself, but it was never about me. It was all about Vince and his plans. I didn’t fit into his plans or his future. He wasn’t going to wait for me to finish my degree, because I didn’t fit in there. He wanted to settle down at 25, by then I would be 22 and still getting my degree. My education meant the world to me, it still does, and I always had dreams and being female; I wanted independence first before I settled down to be someone’s wife. I remember how he replaced me, he did, and it couldn’t have been more than a week. Sometimes I felt like she had always been there, but I always brushed that thought off, saving myself unnecessary pain. He knew I wasn’t going to answer, for I looked at him with nothing but resentment.  “Jen” he whispered “I’m sorry”. Again I said nothing, he reached out to hold my hand, and his hands had not changed. They were rough, but smooth. I remembered how safe I once felt when they touched me. Now it was different, I felt betrayed.

I pulled away my hand. “I don’t fit in” I whispered. I’m sure he saw for the first time how much those words had hurt me. They had scarred me. It is that day when I decided it was better to let it go. It was because of those words. “You don’t fit into my life plan” they had pierced me, for at that moment I knew I had loved where I was not loved. Even the thought still pierced my heart. Those words took away all the hope I ever had in love. He looked at me, not sure of what to say. I looked at him again and asked him to leave. He hesitated, but stood up. I could sense his eyes starring at me from above, but I didn’t look, not until his feet moved. Before he opened the door he said something that unsettled my thoughts. “You fit in now” he said. I looked at him, trying hard not to explode. “If I didn’t fit in your plans seven years ago, then I don’t fit in now. You didn’t love me enough then, you wont love me enough now” and with this he muttered something that I didn’t get, but I didn’t ask, instead I asked him to leave and he did.  Alone I  was left with bitter tears in my eyes, a bunch of beautiful carnations on my table and the same broken heart I had seven years ago, but now it was different. Now I didn’t blame myself, I didn’t, actually, I felt rather content, for I would rather be alone than be with a man who never made plans for me in his future.

Dear readers

As stated on my profile, My name is Vhuhwavho Maumela. I am 18 years old and I love to write and read stories. Thank you for reading through my stories and supporting my blog. One day when im older I would like to write a novel( maybe even two). I am just starting to show my stories to people outside my family or friends. I would really love your views and opinions on my writing. please do feel welcome to comment or contact me directly at vhuhwavhomaumela@gmail.com. I am open to ideas and advice to. thank you.

yours sincerely
Missvee, Vhuhwavho Maumela