The Break and Everything Inbetween 2

A continuation from my first entry here

I practically changed my sleeping schedule to keep him ‘virtual’ company while he nursed his dad. His dad passed away without him even asking me to go see him. Yes, it was during the pandemic but asking is not a bad thing. I asked him to come over while I was at a work event so I could see for myself how he was doing, in his angry moment, he made that request seem like the dirtiest thing he had ever been asked. I had yet to feel like trash as an adult until this second experience of him. If that was his intention, he succeeded.

Do you know what I got out of all this? A stress injury because of texting. This guy NEVER called. Emotional and physical trauma because the onslaught of emotions was too much for me to bear. My chest ached every time I recalled this experience. Because of all this, I returned to spontaneous public and private meltdowns. My most memorable days of this were the breakdown at DFCU Bank, my workplace and a field trip to Kasese. 

One morning at work; it hit me that I should have stayed home because I was not emotionally well to function as an employee. My heart ached so much that my eyes smarted from the tears I was trying to hold back. I took a bathroom break to cry and then returned to my workstation. Then came the field trip to Kasese. While there, my colleague kept asking, ‘Shanah, what is wrong?’, she asked this more than once for two days. On the second day, I told her not to ask me again. That night, after I returned to my room, I broke down because of the implication of his leaving the country without telling me. It felt like the worst betrayal ever. I had not done anything wrong to this person for him to act this way nor treat me this way. 

After crying for over two hours, I took a sleeping agent to calm my nerves. The last thing I wanted was to fall sick because of the intense emotional distress and being so far from home.  

You would think I was done with tears, no? I had one more flood left in me. I went to DFCU Bank, Ntinda branch to withdraw money. I found the bank closed. I had come from far. I needed the money. I did not have any other day to make the trip again. The frustration of this and everything bad I was dealing with brought on a public breakdown. I cried and sobbed like I had lost someone. The sob fest included snot, strained veins on the head and sweat. The attendants had to open the bank because I was becoming a public spectacle. They took me inside, gave me some water, asked me what was going on. Eh! I cried through all their questions and attempts to comfort me for over thirty minutes. 

Ten months in 2022 were spent feeling the ugly feelings and trying to work through it all so my depression does not worsen. The stress injury does persist when I text anyone for longer than five minutes, and I abandoned prayer. Other than that, I am doing well emotionally and mentally. I may not have published anything in this space for two years but everything that happened between then and now is in my journal. 2023 raked me over the coals, too. But I firmly believe that all that I went through in 2022 gave me the fortitude to handle everything that I experienced last year.  

We can conclusively say that he is the one who was never ready, that is, if he does not have a sadistic streak. In all consciousness, no one deserves to be treated so shabbily especially when they are pure of heart. 

The Break and Everything Inbetween...

TWITTER: @chrislil_gh

Two years ago, I took an abrupt break from publishing in this space. It feels like a lifetime. Reading through old posts to find my footing brought back tons of mixed emotions especially with the entries of 2021. There is a lot of dirty water under the bridge to muck through while I go about acquainting myself with Simply Shanah (the blog), and the readers that leave comments.  

Are you EVER ready? 

That title marked my last entry in 2021. At the time; it was a cover for what I was going through. what I wanted to write about but could not. I allude to this in the last sentence of the post.

Time has been kind to this wound. It is no longer sore; I can talk about it without breaking into tears; it no longer has the sting of a fresh wound. I will pinch the emotional scab a little. By the way; pinching at scabs is one of my nervous gestures though I do it mostly on my lips. 

Well, I have tried to love the same man twice! Only a handful of people knew this. Both times have been mired in terrible heartbreak. This last time; after I had dealt with the hurt and the pain, I came to the realization that God probably made this person for the purpose of letting me know that a human, I have met in my adult life, has the potential to do away with me, if I am not careful. I wholeheartedly believe this. Nothing can explain why someone comes to another party (who is minding her single business) with declarations of love only to sustain that person in months long texts and eventually ghosting the person. Not once but twice. 

Initially, I was friends with this person. We vibed as friends. I never held any romantic ideation where he was concerned. But I am such a hermit. I take forever to date, and I can honestly say that I have no idea how to relate romantically. 2015 was the one year I tried this dating and being in a relationship with a son of Adam. It did not end that well because we argued a lot, conversations were strained. We drifted apart. 2018; this guy makes his first declaration in one of the worst years of my life, as an adult. It was the year I had the accident. Midway through my recuperation, he ghosted. Who does that? I was physically and emotionally broken. I do not know how I got through that year because I was convinced that I would not make it to 2019. 

Surprisingly, I did. I have had the honor of making some good friends as an adult. One friend in particular kept checking on me, I talked it over and over with my ride or die sister and I survived this horrible experience. I should have let sleeping dogs lie, no? I have countable friends and this person is the one person who knew all the milestones of my life, outside my closest circle of friends. I reached out to him. I told him how deeply he had hurt me and that if his feelings had changed, all he had to do was tell me because I valued our friendship. Another thing I have realized since 2018 is that I value friendships 100 percent while some value their friendship with me at 1 percent. 

He apologised. We flowed once again like we had not spoken to each other in one and a half years. Outside my immediate family, he made my two weeks of hospitalization in 2020 a bearable experience. Late 2020; he kept hinting at his feelings, littering terms of endearment here and there but not being outright until early 2021. I was very shocked to receive a heartfelt hearts day text. From then on it was touch and go. My intuition kept rearing its ugly head, I would tell him my fears and he would brush them off. At the end of it all, my fears did come to life. He not only ghosted me but left the country without so much as a by your leave my way. What made this incredibly hard is the way I found out. I found out from a friend...

To be continued

Are You Ever Ready?

‘I am not ready’. ‘You are not ready’. ‘We are not ready’.

I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and landed on a post a friend had commented on. A woman had written in to a radio station saying that her boyfriend of 5 years is soon turning 30 and wants a positive pregnancy 🤰 test as a birthday present. The woman is 2 years shy of 30 and is not ready. 

This made me think, are we ever ready for a situation? Do we know how ready we are until we are in the middle of it? No. 

Before I braced myself and then some to go for studies, I was a bundle of doubts. 

When a friend of mine sent me the application, I fired him so many questions just to dissuade him from encouraging me to apply. He had an answer to all the questions. To get him off my case, I accepted to apply. I went to office, sat on the application for the day and sent it to him. Late in the night, he told me he had issues with sending it and I told him to leave it. But he convinced me to send it myself. I did that the following day. 

I wrote that off until months later when I received an email inviting me for the interview. This interview. Let me first laugh at myself. 😂 I received the date and time while I was busy packing for the African Women’s Leadership Institute program. It was for 7 days and at a hotel deep in Namugongo while the interview was to be in Ntinda at the former offices of National Council for Disability. You should have seen me try to make it work. 

I had already stalled with the AWLI program and to cancel at the last minute was not right. I thought of turning down the interview because I couldn’t see myself flying from Namugongo to Ntinda but my friend and my  mother convinced me otherwise. I had also read for it like my life depended on it. 

Like in all life changing situations of my life, my brother was around and had use of my sister’s car. When mum informed me that he would pick me up, I told him the time he should pick me up and to bring along the dress I had in mind to wear for the interview. At NCD, someone I know (a fellow woman with a disability) walked into the room and she told me she was interviewing for the same. I told her then that I wouldn’t mind losing the interview to her. They could only take one of us. I interviewed with the mind that she will be the one to succeed. 

Months down the road, I received an acceptance email on a really bad day. I braced myself before opening it because I couldn’t take anymore bad news and was shocked. I didn’t know what to do because I wasn’t expecting to be accepted. I didn’t even celebrate. 😢 

In the period of chasing academic and travel documents plus work commitments, my sister was diagnosed with a blood clot & was admitted to the High Dependency Unit. 

This literally put a wrench in everything. I was just returning from a trip to Iganga when my mum explicitly told me to go stay with my nephew for the duration. I worked and looked after my nephew until his mother was discharged. This set my mum and I back severally. I applied for our visas when the visa office was a day to breaking off for the December holiday. 

January 2020 dawned. We were to travel the first week of January but because we had applied late for the visas… I still harboured doubts about leaving the job, all that was familiar to me (family, friends, weather) and having a doctor a phone call away. In the background, there was also someone’s son. He had just hinted at a tea-date and I kept thinking, ‘what if this has the potential to blossom into something and my leaving kills it?’ I was a mess! Chap wasn’t even proposing but I actually considered the repercussions of the trip. That’s how you know it’s not easy being a girl. 😂

I had misgivings. I kept talking to my senior advisor about most of them and he firmly told me that losing the job should not be cause for me to turn down an opportunity to better myself. If I lost it, there would be something else. I tendered in my request for study leave 3 days to the day of travel while my mum did all the running around shopping and packing. 

On the day of, I had to do more shopping, lunch with my sister Anitsha and continue to pack. I’d also wanted to see my nephew one more time before I left because I was so afraid he would forget me. He’d just learnt to say my name, picked up on the fact that I used crutches and was becoming a little connoisseur of tea. 

Yeah, misgivings and doubts did not go away even while I was going through the student experience. Nevertheless, I went. I lived. I loved. I studied. I thrived. I did it all while I was afraid and do not regret it one bit. 

My point is you never know that you are ready for anything until you are either right in the middle of the situation or walking the steps. All you have to do is take that leap of faith but prepare for the consequences. Like leaving someone’s son yet all he had suggested was a tea-date. 😒 

This post was also inspired by a current situation in my life...

Search My Feelings...

Do you ever sit and scrutinise your feelings? Feelings that wash over you when you least expect it? 

Last night, in a dream, it occurred to me that this guy I have been texting with for the longest time ever, he and I shall not materialise into anything. When this came to me, I thought I’d hurt incredibly but I’ve spent the day searching myself, my thoughts, my feelings over the entire situation and I’m OK. 

We cannot force people into being what they cannot be for us. This is something I’ve come to learn. I guess I should cry over the empty promises, the awakened feelings that invariably end in disappointment and deflation. In years I least expect someone to turn my head, make me believe in the impossible and leave me either in limbo or hanging. I should cry for letting myself dream about stuff I really have no business dreaming about but not yet. There are no tears yet. Perhaps they will come at a later date. 

For now, I feel apathetic. What this person does, who he does it with is entirely up to him. All I know is I’m done. I’m tired of holding onto hope over an impossibility. I’m also tired of pandering to people’s emotions and feelings. 

I wish I could give up on this. On trying to find a partner. But, I feel that I’ve given up on a lot more that  I wanted in this life that to give up on this would be the ultimate let down. Dying alone is something I don’t want for myself and it’s what drives me to give it a go when someone catches my fancy. I try once opportunity arises but it seems it’s never enough. 

I am not hurt that you’ll never grace me with your physical presence, that you really have no desire to see me or see you live up to your promises, no. I’m hurt that you make me want to cease all attempts to find a partner and acquaint myself with the thought of being self-partnered for life, again!

Hang Up On A MAY BE!

 “You can’t be any more available to a person that doesn’t want to be available to you.”- Shanah

I am no expert on relationships because the longest I’ve been in one is fit enough to pass as a 7 - day trial in app purchases world. The period where you consider whether it’s good enough for you to spend your money on it or not worth the expenditure. That’s my love life. 

Over the eyes I’ve been in the longest textship known to woman with one person. This textship has gone through a lot, least of which is the 2 years period of silence because we weren’t on speaking terms. But, as it is wont to do, it picks up where it left off regardless of the hiccups. 

It should be OK. But it’s not. At this period in my life I’m wondering if this is going anywhere at all given that the length of it shows that it’s not. This is someone I have known for over five years and seen socially three times in this period of knowing each other. He says really nice things that make me want to believe never calls or even so much as asked for a date. 

Current circumstances notwithstanding, I feel that a lot more effort than endless empty promises filled with fully furnished sand castles in the air should be made. A tea date? 

The possibility that this is not going anywhere except in text is glaring at me in the face but I’m caught between calling it quits because I’m being impatient or waiting it out because it just might flourish into something beautiful. I do not know. All I know is I  could be hang up on a “maybe” that might never blossom into an actual thing.

He Called Her At Midnight

"She looks so sad."

"That is one beautiful drawing, what inspired it?"

"Weren't you afraid to show such naked emotion in a design?"

These were some of the comments and questions raised by her visitors. The ones she deigned to let across the front door for she was a private person and valued her solitude. Her hand shook slightly as her index finger traced the lines of a heart-shaped face, big eyes full of incomprehensible sorrow and pink lips pursed in disdain. Save for the pink lips; black encompassed the piece and put forth the emotions that could never be hidden even after the passage of time. 

Looking at her, so dark and laden with emotions; the events leading to her  existence unfolded before her eyes. It took a great deal of effort to bring herself back from the abyss the breakup with Max had thrown her into. There had been days when her despair was too potent for her to get through, days where she turned up to work in full black because that was the only way she could explain her mood and dressing required a lot more effort than she had. Days where she would take constant bathroom breaks at work just to shed the tears in her heart. When the pain was too intense and breathing had become a chore. 

Time was indeed the healer of all wounds. To be able to look back on all that pain and feel a slight niggle of disappointment in the people they failed to be for each other attested to her emotional state. She was even crazier for entertaining the thought of seeing him again. 

“Had he changed? Would he notice the woman she had become? Had their time apart been as hard for him as it had for her at the beginning?” All these questions rotated in her mind like a spinning wheel and almost made it impossible for her to return to the task at hand. One thing was certain, Max was hurting and needed her. That is all that mattered, for now. 

Alexandra gave the piece one last glance and put it back on the mantle. Looking at her work from this vantage point gave her a level of satisfaction she could never get enough of. Art has always been there for her; even in her darkest days, she could rely on it to bring her back from the depths of despair. 

Dawn was soon breaking and she needed to put the finishing touches to the draft she was currently working on for a close friend. He had commissioned a piece from her on a whim so she wanted to knock his socks off with her artistic interpretation of his name. A smile crossed her face as she thought of him. 

Liam. He had came into her life when she least wanted to form lasting ties with anyone let alone a man yet couldn’t turn down his offer of friendship.

The Week That Was

Left leg under a full length cast

This week started off with a birthday celebration. During the celebration, my mood was inexplicably low. The girls thought it was a guy disturbing me and I blamed it on my period. I could not put a finger on it until I scrutinised the date and its significance. The date of celebration was the same day I was in an accident. In my own way, I was celebrating life.

 

8th June 2018 was such a beautiful morning. I noticed it because I was giddy with what I thought was love.  My heart was so happy that I truly believed happiness was not  the fickle feeling that I took it to be. My memory of everything I was doing the day before shall forever remain intact. I had a yoga session, before I went to bed I was writing a note to a man I was falling in love with. That night was so cold. It was raining and the last thought before I drifted off to sleep was if he was next to me, I would burrow under his t-shirt for additional warmth. Recalling this to this day makes me think God had a huge laugh at my expense… The odd thing about this particular morning was my mental recitation of a prayer for the newly departed. Inna lilahi wa inna ilaihi raj'un popped into my head on the way. I questioned it and hoped not to receive bad news on the way. Reflecting on this later, it was to confirm that sometimes we may accompany people to their deaths without knowing it. The person I was with that morning passed away while I was undergoing surgery. 

 

Recovery is indeed a process. I have unexpected bursts of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome most especially when I'm in a car. Even with people I trust, I find myself gripped with fear when a car shoots by the one I'm in or see one coming directly in front of us at break-neck speed. I first noticed this last year while going on a work trip. The driver mentioned how frightened I was whenever a car was passing by or when he sped to overtake the other vehicles. I thought I was hiding it well but apparently not. Also, you never know how effective an almost fatal incident like this has on you until the shift in dreams that you thought were of value to you. I had to give up on a dream I have held since I was a teenager after my accident. I do not regret it except for the other dream I chose to hold onto. I may have to give up on that as well.

 

Two years down the road… The left ankle that swells to the size of a potato when I have borne more weight on it than I should is regaining colour. It no longer looks as dark as charcoal and is slowly blending into my normal complexion. I have the worst skin ever. All my bruises turn black and take ages to fade.

 

At the birthday celebration, we talked about friendships and what they meant to each of us. A topic I have been reviewing and evaluating these two years. I have perused comments on Facebook posts scoffing at people who expect 100% from their friends because they have been there for them and the friends in question failed to return that show of support during their hard times. The lesson here is that while some of us value friendships at 100%, others value them at 10%. That is why they have no expectations whatsoever out of these friendships. They are happy with that 10% when and if it comes in. If you are like me, you should not feel guilty about expecting more from the people you have given 100% to in good or bad times. I was lucky to have unexpected people outside my circle of friends and family check on me during my recuperation and it made up for the ones that failed.

 

I last internalised the male gaze in 2015 but I have done so much of it this year more so in the past month that I forgot to be proud of my progress. I was happy when I noticed the discolouration, how my bones do not ache as much when the cold gets to me or when I am exhausted at the point of injury. Full flexibility is still a dream for now because I stopped with the physiotherapy that seemed a lot more torturous than should be.

 

So far, this is the longest I have used crutches as a pair. Initially, I was afraid but now, I have a bit of confidence in them. I can swing on them if I wanted and no longer tire as easily as I did the first couple of months. The most tedious thing is the caution. I have to have to be vigilant of where I place the crutches while on gravel and slippery floor. It takes a lot more energy having to think and walk with care.

 

The fact that my mood has been all over the place this week 8th-13th June 2020 is evidence that the mind may forget but the body never forgets what it has been through.

 

Here's to recovery, better friendships and courage to go through the hard times without breaking.

Dear Love...

Dear Love,

You will have to forgive me for writing you this letter but I feel that it is long over due. I have waited patiently for your arrival for so long that sometimes I forget that I am actually waiting. I am slowly starting to accept the fact that I just may be that one person in the family that may never discover the beauty within you.

The times that I think deeply about you make me question your existence. Are you there for me? Are you not a figment of my imagination? Are you not an illusion I entertain courtesy of the Romance novels I have poured over the years to make my soul happy? To nurture my wanning faith in your actual existence?

There are a handful of instances where I felt that you were so close that not only could I believe in your true existence but could languish in the feelings that the thought of you evoked. In these instances; I have experienced nothing but snatched hope and dreams.

Rejection, disappointment and ghosting at your expense have brought me unimaginable pain. Pain I did not think I would ever experience time and time again coupled with my other lot in life. Physical pain heals but emotional pain, there is no permanent relief for that except time, endurance and acceptance.

If there is anything this life has shown me; it is that to accept to hurt interminably for an unknown period of time takes sheer will power many do not have and neither do I. I almost came close to throwing in the towel this time last year because it was heartwrenchingly tough for me to withstand being emotionally and physically broken at the same time.

Would you believe it if I told you that I have rivulets of tears streaming down my face while penning you this letter? I would like to believe that it is cathartic but that would be lying. I have been crying on and off since July begun for no good reason. No. There is a good reason. I tend to lose people that I actually care for and presumably care for me in this month. And last year, well... I gathered my self--respect and lost again.

I look back on the times I was led on because of you. The times I have had my hopes crushed out of empty promises. The times I have believed in the words of humans that have never so much as paid for my data subscription and worst of it all; having to share my most prized dream - little Shanah's existence and mapped out life like she was a useless piece of gossip to share with everyone.

I hate you for that, you know. I hate you for having the ability to let people bait others with their most cherished dreams for entertainment: hoping that it comes true with them. Some things should be no-go areas and this is one of them.

Do you exist? I believe you do. I see hints of you in a lovers' embrace, the lingering glances and touches, beautifully written words in text and the intimate gestures that breathe nothing but familiarity between couples that make me sigh out of pleasure for being privvy to them from the sidelines.

Do you exist for me? I do not know. Would I like to find out? Maybe. I remain uncertain of this because of past experiences. I find myself shying away from flirtations and deeper conversations with the opposite sex because I do not wish to hurt any more. I no longer have the desire for meaningless conversations with people that do not excite me intellectually, humorously and emotionally. Most of all; I have come to loathe being used as a vessel to alleviate people's boredom, faux separation and silent treatments in their relationships.

People are under the impression that I am seeking perfection. They could not be more wrong. I am seeking emotional availability, consistency, honesty and action. Nothing more than that. But, it kind of seems too much to ask especially during this wait for you. I do not even know what to ask for anymore. The endless waiting period has filled me with a lot of doubt regarding your existence for me.

If you do exist for me, If you eventually arrive, may you be everything and more than I could ever dream of. May you show me your glorious beauty and imbue my soul with all the contentment it can take. And most of all; give me the simple pleasure of basking in the splendor of your reflection in a lover's eyes and warmth of his embrace.

Yours,
Shanah

When Loneliness Speaks

I couldn't help looking at you.
Cute face, cuter smile,
It lingered on my brain.

Made me wish we had crossed paths earlier,
Before the band on your finger.

I kept looking in your direction,
Entertaining thoughts I had no reason to,
But couldn'tbe denied.

You had my loneliness speak louder than before.

Where Is Your Boyfriend?!

As I grow older, I find myself weary of answering the 'where is your boyfriend?' question from interested and idly disinterested but nosy parties.

Before; I would take it on nonchalantly and either respond with a joke or honesty to those that hold genuine interest in my life and wish me well but now, I am exhausted.

The question has become an endless reminder of my failure as a female despite my many accomplishments and successes career-wise. There are so many things I should be grateful and proud of at the moment but they are encapsulated by sorrow over my incapacity to be attached to someone for society's validation.

Whenever a person asks me, 'where is your boyfriend?', I am reminded of the many futile attempts made to hold on to people that don't want to be held on to, the boys I had hopes in but never measured up and the number of times I have been led towards dead end roads and each memory cuts like a sharp knife. The memories still sting like they happened yesterday yet enough time has passed for the pain to lessen.

Many may not know this but I have tried. So much so that I have let go of the dreams I held in this regard and made peace with the fact that they shall never come to fruition in this life. I am slowly getting used to the notion that I might be the spinster aunt to my nephews and do not have the time nor the energy to help everyone along. The only energy I have is for the betterment of me as a human, to show kindness to others and be good where possible. Besides, this body is giving up on me faster than my spirit is. I can't be fighting two things at ago. I am enough with or without a man.

Plus One

It has been a year since I composed this  under the influence of a sugar high and poor health. I was so chafed to see it in today's Facebook memories because I have been anxiously anticipating its revival, in a good way.

I still want to be someone's pain in the ass but maybe not exactly at this point in time. A later date or year or months when I am emotionally and mentally in a good place... possibly.

At this point in time:
I'd love nothing better than to be someone's plus one,
I want to be pampered,
I want to be cosseted,
I want to be a sugar-babe :(
I really miss the 3 am texting,
The ordained time for a soul-soul connection,
When insomnia was more of a friend than enemy,
I want to be someone's pain in the ass,
In the name of love!

Shanah

The Distance Between Us

To
My Former Love;

I still think that you're the one that understood me best.
I would have given you a chance a million times over, if you had shown a modicum of the interest I thought we shared. But, you never did. Neither when I asked you nor I forced your hand. You still played your cards close to your chest and I wasn't built for it. I wasn't built for uncertainty yet you thrived, no, savoured it like it was the most delicious morsel of meat you have ever tasted.
My needs and I have always played second fiddle to the needs of the people in my life and seeing myself taken as a by -the-way was something I couldn't settle for. Even though murky water runs beneath the makeshift bridge we built, it doesn't take away the handful of good memories I have left of you.
You can't deny that I tried for you. I tried a lot more than you would ever know but it wasn't enough. The deal was too raw for me to settle given the uncertainty of the terms. It was either your way or not at all.
Taking you from the person I shared every little detail of my life with, to someone I share a handful of memories with wasn't easy. You were my waking thought. The person my thoughts ran to when something happened in my life and my 3 am companion. You were a habit I nurtured with each opportunity that came my way until...
How many times did we try to mend the cracks between us? Once? Twice? Thrice? I can't even remember because there were instances where you were so callous in your treatment; instances I forgave you for because I liked you a lot, until that day.
Do you ever wonder what happened? Do you think about what you did wrong that drove me to that point? Should I tell you: now that we have a few years worth of distance between us?
To you; it was another empty promise you were making me yet it was a little bubble of hope for us on my side. You gave me the teenage experience I never had by making me wait for a call that never came through. Given our history; that wasn't unexpected but the bitter taste the experience left in my mouth was something I didn't relish. That day made the decision for me.
I had made a lot of moves for you, given you a lot more chances than I have ever given anyone in my life, watched from the side-lines as you publicly mocked every little thing that I did for you. It was enough. I couldn't give anymore. I had nothing left. You took it all. Even the fight I should have had on reserve for your successors.
Am I angry? No. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't know what to look for in anyone I might consider sharing my life with. You are the other yardstick on which I measure their worth as men especially when it comes to their treatment towards me.
It took me years to give others chances. Unfortunately or fortunately, the first person I gave a chance to failed miserably. He said all the pretty and flowery words that I longed to hear from you and I was sold. No. You know I do I do not fall that easily. I thought the years and affection between this person and I would provide the firm foundation for this stage in our lives only to be disappointed. Like you, he failed to live up to his words.
Do you remember that girl? The one that fought for you? She couldn't garner the energy to fight for him once he started being indifferent towards her. That girl just unfriended him so he could do it better from a far. Fighting never even crossed my mind yet it was an uncontrollable urge for your case. Mend it! Fix it! Give it one more try! I was always bridging the distance between us that to this day - I do not have the energy it takes to fight for or chase after a guy, however much I presume to like him.
My life is a revolving door of comings and goings. I should be used to it but I am not. Seeing your successor go hurt a lot because I thought we had a good friendship. The years alone should have been enough to intercede and stop this outcome...
I have never regretted you. I still do not regret you. You meant much more than you knew at that point in my life. What I regret are the feelings you evoked in me. They were too intense to handle. Feeling that way taught me that I never want to be that vulnerable towards another human being and I still don't.
Twice this year; I have been asked on two separate occasions if I would consider us being friends? I loved our friendship. You understood me better than anyone I had encountered in my life. I would have considered it if it was at your instigation and not hearsay. They do not know how dark the murky water that runs beneath our makeshift bridge is and that there's a lot more to it than the distance between us.

Yours,
In love and thoughts,
Shanah

Walks Down Memory Lane

In the recuperation period  of a recent traumatic event I experienced, I find myself adding on a Facebook break because of my need to detach. Not only am I dealing with the reparation of broken bones but also the disappointment and sorrow that comes with matters of the heart.

Ever since 2015; which I diligently documented here when the feelings weren't so raw, I consciously took a break from dating, liking and entertaining thoughts of me on the arm of a significant other until I was both mentally and emotionally strong. The road to single girl business hasn't been all that smooth considering the fact that last year, many of society's voices were in my ear over my lack of a significant other. It has never been easy being a girl more so since our achievements are still measured by the yardstick of the fruits of our womb if not the man by our side. I took all criticism and well meaning "advice" in stride and much as it bogged me down and made me question my noteworthy accomplishments, I shook it off in a matter of months and continued with the derivative pleasure of single girl business until a two-legged human that wears pants and shorts on a permanent basis decided to interrupt.

Clearly; there is no rest for the weary because in a perfect world, someone in my current situation would be dealing with one problem, not two. Life is that funny. After two years of single girl business, being alone but not lonely, I promised myself to try but wasn't actively searching. No. I left all that to God and any man or woman kind enough to hook me up with their friends albeit at my inconvenience.

Then came the declaration I never expected to hear in my lifetime. I resolved to give the declarer a chance because I thought he knew what he wanted (he sounded it because I believed him for those two months) until I spotted emerging traits of behaviour that precipitated my depression and led to my prior decision, the decision to stay single until someone that cares enough for me and actually means it comes along.

Whichever way I look at it; I do not think I am asking for too much from someone I choose to love or vice-versa but it seems to be for the people I give chances to. I have never relished the thought of being an after thought to someone I choose to love and I do not expect them to treat me as such but alas, that is the way they want the cookie to crumble and I refuse to settle.

I was having a repeat performance of 2015 whereby I watched this person be active on social media without as much as "hello" to me in the morning or a "how was your day in the evening", at least every other day because I do not expect someone to be texting me on a daily basis. It hurt a lot back then and it still hurts. That is the behaviour I have been putting up with for close to a month and seeing it killed me every fuckin day. I spent a full weekend in tears over the disappointment in myself and knew that if I do not mitigate before I spiralled, I would lose myself along the way yet I had put a lot of work on my emotional and mental health to let myself drown into an abyss once again.  This informed my decision to deactivate my account, take time off to neutralize feelings, fully detach and leave him to concentrate on the people he cares for enough to mean it.
How am I supposed to heal broken bones with a broken spirit? I need to look out for me since I am only good enough for myself and no one else. Until I come first for the person that chooses to love me and actually shows; I am not settling, even if it means becoming the spinster aunt I find myself resigned to.

I hope to fruitfully use the time off Facebook and Twitter to build my spirit and engage in activities I let slip like reading and writing. I missed this space and the flow of words.

He Called Her At Midnight

There it was. The invite. A chance to step into his world again. She had kept it at the back of her mind that they would cross paths, but, never thought of the manner in which it would happen. Not this way, anyway.

Alexandra took stock of her surroundings with a cursory glance at the design she was currently working on. She had done good by herself. It had been hard, but, in the five years of their separation; she had chased the career she'd desired and went on to become the most sought after graphic design artists in New York. Everything around her gave her a sense of pride and fulfilment she'd never expected to have without him by her side. It meant that much more that she had succeeded on her own.

"Alexandra?" are you still there?"

Max's voice brought her back from her little reverie. He needed an answer and she needed to see him again, if only to see how he was holding up.

"Yes. I can come over, just not tonight. I'm under a tight deadline and I can't interrupt the creative process at this moment. Can you give me two days from now?", she asked?

"It'd mean a lot to me if you could make it tonight, please. Think about it."

With that entreaty, Max hang up.

Alexandra listened to the incessant beep of the dial tone for awhile longer before she finally took the phone from her ear and looked at it in disbelief. It was so like Max to ask for something monumental and act like it wasn't a big deal. If he could be so nonchalant about it, so could she.

After hanging up, she made her way to the mantle holding all the accolades she had received in the five years. Fine things. Appreciation for jobs well done and trophies from the Women's entrepreneurial groups on which she was a Board member. Encompassing all the trophies was the wall on which hang a few pictorial prints of her work. She unerringly reached for the largest print on the wall and took it back with her to the work table.

"Beautyin Ugly". The one design that held more of a personal meaning to her than the rest of her designs. Its title and frame held secrets only she was aware of and never shared with anyone. Beauty in Ugly was a result of an onslaught of despondency and despair, on a night she never thought she'd be able to get through without him. The fateful day she broke up with Max, she had acted so cool and stoic in his presence yet her heart was breaking into pieces. Her staidness only got her far enough from his presence before the shattered pieces of her heart pricked through the facade.

Moments

There are moments when he looks at her,
Seeking the love that shone brilliantly with each gaze.
Searching for the little smile that crossed her lips with each interaction between them.
Aching for the acts of affection that were given so lavishly but went unappreciated.

There are moments when he looks at her,
With bated breath and a frightfully hopeful gaze.
Looking for the love that he thought was infinitely his,
From eyes clouded by his disappointments,
And a heart forever broken by them.

Her Mother

Her Mother.
Her strength,
Her courage,

The adoration she basks in with each success,
The source of pride in her uncompromising values,
The beacon of hope in an uncertain future,
The unwavering faith behind her pursuit of happiness,
The will behind her indomitable persona,

Her courage,
Her strength,
Her Mother.

He Called Her At Midnight

"Alexandra. I hope I didn't wake you", he said.
"No. I am up finalizing a design."
She heard him draw a deep albeit shaky breath. Like he was mentally bracing himself for what he was about to say. Hearing him do so put her on edge. The call itself had thrown her mind and emotions off kilter. To hear him do so before revealing his reasons for the late night phone call didn't bode well.
"Max... What's wrong?"
"Alexandra... She... I need you..."
Max was never a stutterer. If anything; he was the one person you could rest assured would find the right words, no matter the situation. His incoherent reply meant the situation was a lot worse than she could imagine.
"What is it?", she asked. "Tell it to me at once because you're scaring me."
With that; her thoughts raced over every possible situation that could get him to act this way. Try as she may; she couldn't find a plausible reason that would explain his current behavior. She was about to prod him for an explanation when his hushed words cut off her thoughts.
"Tessa died." He whispered over the phone. "She must have slipped out of the apartment while I was in the shower."
His change in tone denoted the gravity of the situation. A situation, it seemed, he couldn't bring himself to accept. Every word out of him came in slow, shaky tones that brooked no interruption.
Tears rushed to her eyes as she tried to stifle a sob while listening to the gory details. Marc- his next door neighbour, had found the little dog whimpering and covered in blood on the way back from his late night jog. He'd immediately scooped it up and rushed to Max's apartment after recognising her spotted tail.
Alexandra could only imagine what this loss would do to him. Tessa was his world. The last tangible link to a past he refused to let go of. The one thing he swore was the only good thing out of it. Knowing how much Tessa meant to him made her glad for the fact that they were able to share her last moments together - in the safe haven of his arms where she had known so much love and comfort.

Your Face On Mine

No.
I don't know how to kiss.
But, I do know,
I want to feel your face on mine.
To look into your deep-set eyes,
Until all I see is my reflection.
Rub the tip of my nose with yours,
And prolong the anticipation.
To feel you draw breath,
As you prepare to drink in my taste.
Watch my hands,
As they wind themselves around your neck.
Pulling you closer,
Into our embrace.
While we slowly kindle,
The fire that sizzles between us.

No.
I don't know how to kiss.
But, I do know,
I want to feel your face on mine.

xShanahx

You Never Cared

You never cared.
What I don't understand is why you're taking so much of my thoughts, lately?!
Why does your name pop up in my moments of sadness?
I shouldn't even ask this because you found me at my most vulnerable. As much as giving you the oars to my boat was freeing, you caused a lot more damage than I expected.
A year and half later; unmarred by your poor attempt at communication, why does your name suddenly pop up in my thoughts?
What you don't know is; the first quota of the year has been more than splendid my side. The one thing I've been unable to complain about is my life and all that's happening. In fact, I'm more appreciative of it-the way it is.
When your name pops up, it hangs like a shadow on the fringes of this happiness. I don't want that. I don't want anything to do with you casting shadows over my glow!
You never cared.
So, why does your name keep popping up in my thoughts?
I weaned myself off giving permanent feelings to temporary people, chasing nonexistent emotions and affection. Feelings and emotions that should come naturally with ease between people who actually care for one another. The girl you thought you knew reverted to the person she was before giving up her oars for you.
Knowing you never cared should be a barrier to your occupancy of my thoughts.

Shattered Heart

Her head held high,
She stands tall and proud,
Making solemn promises,
Never to see the one who stole her heart.

Beneath the facade,
Pieces of her broken heart are trying to break the wall that's keeping the pressure in.

If only she could be alone for a minute,
Free the jagged pieces of her shattered heart.

But she has to hold onto the facade a moment longer.
Which she will!
If her will doesn't break under the pressure,
Let her down like her heart did.


Shanah