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!

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

The Day That Was...

3rd December is behind us but the memories of left with me this time round shall last a lifetime.

I love watching Sign Language Interpreters at work so much so that I usually take videos of my back up man whenever he is doing his thing in my presence. As impressive as I find him to be; none has ever left me in awe like the little girl with DeafBlindness from Sense International that I happened to share the tent with.

Watching tactile Sign Language in action is an experience I shall never forget.
For those that don’t know, people with DeafBlindness communicate through touch and their language mimics Sign Language with the exception being the respondents or communicators touch the person with DeafBlindness to communicate with them.

Whenever the little girl received visitors that knew the language; I’d stop and watch them communicate for the sheer pleasure of it. Seeing the visitors with happiness written all over their faces while communicating with her made the experience unforgettable. I’ve been in company of a few people with DeafBlindness but none as adept at communication and expression like the little girl.

Sense International finally made its presence in Uganda visible and I believe that it being the wind beneath the empowerment of people with DeafBlindness, children and their parents, we shall learn a lot from people with DeafBlindness and communication between us wont be as stilted like before.

Just as I was marinating in everything I’d witnessed at the Sense International tent, there zoomed in to my line of vision an exuberant and excited man with the widest grin I’ve seen in a long while. Seeing his infectious smile made me smile in return as we made eye contact. I took all of him in searching for the reason for his happiness. It’s not until I saw the film wrapping clinging to the shiny metallic ring of his wheelchair that it made sense.

He had just received a new set of wheels aka wheelchair (probably his first because happiness and excitement radiated off him in waves!) He took off soon as the realisation dawned on me and I couldn’t be anymore excited for him because I know what it means to finally be mobile. To not have to depend on anyone when you have your own strength nor limit your journey or movement due to lack of assistive aides to help you get to your destination.

That health camp from the Ministry of Health Uganda really did a good job in availing Persons with Disabilities in Nakaseke with assistive devices. So many amputees walked off with artificial limbs while children with Disabilities most especially those with severe effects from epilepsy were given table aided wheelchairs to help their postures.

We take so much for granted sometimes that we forget how the littlest of things could mean to someone like communication and mobility. People with DeafBlindness are left isolated because of the lack of communication skills with the hearing and seeing world yet we all deserve the right to hear 👂🏽 and be heard regardless of the manners in which we choose to communicate.
​

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

Past Re-collections

Me checking out the statue of our former President Sir Milton Obote

I chanced upon a post from a twitter follower about her 2018 mid-year review. Her post reminded me of my promise to keep a gratitude journal to help me focus on the positive and dwell not on the lemons life handed me. I admit; I lost my way after 2015 and it has been a lot of work trying to find myself again. I derived a lot of pleasure in keeping a gratitude journal and sharing it in that I was driven to leaf through my collections for 2017. I spent equal measures of 2017 terrified of death and worried over the state of my health. I lost 3 people within my immediate family and a close friend to both of my best friends. Those surprise deaths shook me to the core and exhibited the fragility of life. To date; the possibility of death still lingers in my thoughts.

"Why not 2018, you ask?" 2018 is HARD at the moment. However; this is not a dreary post so I shan't make it as one. These were some of my thoughts and bits of gratitude for 2017.

January

Alhamdulilah for the opportunity to work and earn a living.

I was involved in a documentary talking about issues affecting Women with Disabilities at national level.

When you get the chance to be good and do good for someone don't let it spill out of your hands.

The Story of You - Poem

February

I received and signed the work contract

Dear Girl - Poem

Artistic inspiration struck after 3 months. Alhamdulilah for my talent

March

You Don't Know Me Enough - Poem

Impressed with my "Expression of Happiness."

Inked my "Expression of Happiness" and the details came to me slowly but surely

"Write - when the words are ready to be written and flow without effort."

April

We Have No Say Over - Poem

May

Online interview

Even In Love - Poem

Thank God for good company and the ability to take oneself out

My obsession with Korean Dramas was resurrected with the discovery of kissasian.com

"Every girl deserves a guy who tells her that her smile blinds his sight." I wish we had met at a different time

Surprise birthday cake from the sister and brother-in-law

Spent the day in the company of a man. May it be a better year. Ameen

BIRTHDAY! Alhamdulilah for another year

July

I had the most wonderful dream that gave me a little hope.

My opinion made it to the news dailies.

July never fails to make me feel like the loneliest soul in the world

August

Work trip to Apac and Lira where I met the most inspiring woman with a disability and paid a trip to the home of Sir Milton Obote

Life may not be as perfect as it should be but it is totally OK at the moment

It is a shame that the people we care for never hold us in the same regard

September

"Vanity is making feeble attempts at not looking too helpless and sick in front of your lover." - Temptation

I had kind of hoped you would be my ocean

I almost told you before it went awry

I guess, I was wrong.

Busy week! Busy Month!

Goodbye September. You were quite a hard month but I managed to muddle through it

October

Your Face On Mine - Poem

Its sad having to watch everyone's ship arrive but your own. Even sadder is the fact that it may never arrive.

I'm more terrified of death as an adult than I ever was as a youth

I miss the innocence of youth

November

I have lost so many people this year that I keep wondering who the next person to go might be

Her Mother - Poem

Yoga fix got my thighs looking smaller!

Happy to have more responsibility at work

December

Moments - Poem

Weddings make me sad

The innocence of youth is believing in your dreams with infinite faith that they shall come to pass. Never knowing that life interrupts the best laid plans and that nothing ever turns out the way we thought it would.

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.

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.

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

Disability and the Media

Uganda Media Women’s Association and Mama FM recently held an Editors Dialogue between representatives of Disabled People’s Organizations and News Editors from different Media Houses to deliberate on how best to promote disability sensitive reporting. A much needed endeavor as stories inspired by Persons with Disabilities rarely make front page news, and if they do; they come from a biased background of helplessness and victimization which makes it hard to address their problems.

I didn’t get the chance to attend the meeting in person but followed its coverage on the Uganda Media Women’s Association twitter handle, where I read a tweet quoting a journalist from the Daily Monitor saying, “Persons with Disabilities stories always have the same issues. We need variety and different angles to stories.” I was rather appalled to know that someone from the media could have the nerve to make such a blasé remark. 

We read about poverty, disease, poor infrastructure on a daily basis without anyone growing tedious of the topics; not even the media houses that continue to fill their pages with these problems nor the journalists that cover them. What makes the stories of Persons with Disabilities any different? Is it the subject? The thorny background of disability or the notion that front page coverage of disability related stories won’t make papers fly off the shelves? How does someone from a Media House expect to have a different angle to a static problem without coverage to bring upon change?

The perception that stories of Persons with Disabilities are of no import since they are static and do not bring huge sales are what brought about the Editors Dialogue. For a representative from a big Media House to sit within the meeting and utter something so callous shows that we still have a long way to go if we want coverage of stories of Persons with Disabilities treated with the impartiality that a Journalist is supposed to uphold.

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

Choice

We have no say over the memories people choose to keep of us.

We only have it over the feelings we evoke in them. 

Those last longer than the memories. 

x Shanah

Romance

Dear girl,
Romance is food for the soul.
Stay away from the boys who don't offer it.
They are robbers of emotional deposits.
However liberal you are in your thinking,
You need these little acts from boys.
To remind you of your femininity,
To drive home the message;
You are desirable.

Shanah







Photo Credits: google

The Story Of You.

When you grow up,
You meet a lot of people,
People who will write the story of you,
In the book of life.
You will come across the curious souls,
Whose sole purpose is to sketch a mental outline of you,
Once it's done, you will never see them again.
You will come across the users,
Interested in their own journey,
With you as the vehicle to their destination.
You will come across the genuine souls,
The ones interested in your story,
And wish to be part.
They will go as far as lending a hand,
In the writing process.
Fill out their mental sketch of you,
Detail by detail,
Bringing you to life.
Stick with the genuine souls,
They are interested in writing the story of you,
At your pace,
While reading it,
In the book of life.

- Shanah

Photo Credits: google.com

The Guest House

I came across this poem from Rumi whilst going through feed from +Ideapod   and simply had to share because it resonates and sums up all the feelings we have to deal with as humans on a daily basis. You never know what mood is going to keep you company when you wake up nor spend the day with.

“The Guest House ~
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”
Rumi

It's main message is to embrace it all, no matter what. However much it hurts, at the bottom of it all comes relief as long as you immerse yourself in the feelings and not fight them.

Write!

Write until the pain lessens

The memories fade

The thoughts stop running.

Write until it no longer hurts

Till you're able to catch that weightless sigh.

Write until there's nothing to write about

Till the thoughts stop feeding your pen.

Write until it is OK!

Shanah

Facebook Memories

Facebook memories.

Ghosts from the past that return to haunt you when you least expect it.

When the little notification pings, I brace myself in anticipation of what  might be in store. Good or bad? Morose or gay? What the post might turn out to be never matters much as long as it is not a rant!

There is nothing more cringeworthy than a rant on social media! The sole bane to the gaiety of Facebook memories.

With the daily ping of reminders, the promise I made  myself two years ago; never to rant on social media more so on Facebook lurks. I did so much of it on Twitter that ultimately, I had to delete the account and start afresh. 

However, the year of being a good girl on Twitter never portended well for Facebook.

A time or two; my inner devil has come out to play with little to no provocation. This is what I get for not being able to write as frequently as I did the years before last.

Being whoever you wish to be on social media notwithstanding, I know this is not the person I wish nor desire to be. Hence my decision to get rid of all the people that bring out this side of me.

I no longer desire to see people who bring it out on my timeline. Not anymore. Seeing them in the groups I belong to is emough. Everyone needs a respite from the bullshit at the end of the day.

As dire as the picture I am painting of these little memories may seem, there have been good ones albeit not so many. They have been enough to smile about and chuckle over. Going through the comments rears the friends lost along the way and ones gained. An honest depiction of life, cause we lose and gain some with little regret.
I had banked on Facebook memories to remind me of the good that happened last year. At this point in time; I am inclined to believe they do not exist. Which, if you look at it, may not be a bad thing for we all have that one year or two we wish to forget! 2015 was that year for me.

Birthday Blues

Last month was my birthday and this time round it didn't go without a bit of pomp and circumstance. I was imbued with poor health throughout the month that the excitement was at an all time low. But alas; I managed to celebrate it poor health and all.
For the first time in my life, I had the birthday blues. My heart ground to a stop and started to beat faster as I thought over my lack of accomplishments. To date, the only expensive things I hold are my life and education.
I was in such a panic! I felt this past birthday marked the beginning of the end for my life. The proverbial clock (not maternal) had literally started ticking. As much as I would love to go out and conquer the world to my satisfaction; there is so much one person can do and I can't do it all.
It is there and then that I decided to be good and do good. If my good deeds before weren't enough the ones henceforth would hold water as I prepare for my end whenever it may come. The saddest thing in my books would be leaving this world without the gift of a little human for people to remember me by.

One Day

I'd like for one day,
On a bright sunny afternoon,
To sit on a park bench
Side-to-side with the one  I love.
Listening to the sound of birds,
As they flit past.

On that one day,
I'd love nothing more than,
To feel the love between us,
Basking in the solitude
Of our silence.

Shanah

Tired

I wrote this early last year when I was at my wits' end from people asking me to get out of hibernation and socialise, go out and date e.t.c. It was quite frustrating and seeing as it has come full circle and that I still feel this way; I thought it best to share.

I don't want to give up but I feel it is what I should do.
Tired of searching.
Tired of flirting.
Tired of trying.
Tired of playing the field.
I just want it to happen when the time is ripe for it.
I don't want to have to work at it.
I want it to be effortless: a mutual meeting of two lost souls coming together.
I don't want to give up but I feel; giving up is the best thing I can do to let what is meant to be happen.
In its own time and in its own way.

Shanah