Sunday Tonic- Aggression (Just for Laughs)

Pastor Konga’s church premises was one of those former buildings that they used for events like clubbing, pool parties(even though there was no pool) and the likes; he’d somehow found a way to change its appearance and turn it to the house of God.
He’d divided the building into two, one side was the main church and the smaller side was…something else that I suspected was the office because its doors were closed when I got to the church that evening. Everywhere looked deserted; the altar side was crudely decorated with all these faded palm fronds. Maybe they were trying to copy all these big churches that used those fine artificial flowers to decorate their altar but their copy copy had gone wrong because their own palm fronds were the colour of dying animals but then again it might just have been my bias against the Konga ministries.

A sign on the altar flashed “Jehovah Sharp-Sharp, the God of amoured combet”. Yes, the armoured was missing an ‘r’ while the ‘a’ in combat was an ‘e’ and I had to laugh. Wetin the man use im degree do sef? And what about his air-headed members? They hadn’t seen these mistakes since?

Something reminded me that my wife was one of the air-headed flock and I wasn’t surprised she could believe such bullshit about Sabbath sex and worefa. His members couldn’t spell common ‘armoured combat’ and when did Jehovah Sharp-Sharp turn to one of the names of God? Mtcheeew I was too busy boiling within that it took me time to notice the sounds coming from the office. I however began to hear the muffled screams of ‘Oh God!’, ‘Jesus!’ and some occasional shouts of ‘sharwama’ which I later modified to be tongues. Tongues from the Pastor Konga.com himself.

He was praying. Chai. How could I disturb a man that was on the mountain? What kind of bad luck was this one sef? I didn’t have all day to wait for him. And when on earth would his prayers finish? Even God would not forgive me if I interrupted the man’s prayers like that just because he’d reduced my sex life to zero.
Shey God struck someone in the Bible dead because of interruption of the Priest’s prayers? Ehen, any time you enter the Ark of God, it is holy and if any kain person interrupts the Priest while he is in the Ark of God, fyam! His own don finish. Shey na wetin do that man wey make King David fear say make them carry Ark of God go those other people country? Yes, yes. My memory isn’t rusty after all. I still sabi Bible small.
         Oya wait. Just wait let him finish the prayer. Ten minutes no go kill you.
So I sat down and began to wait. But the missing r in ‘armoured’ no allow me to rest, then the ‘e’ in combet con dey vex me, I just decided that I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and went to the office door and knocked.

I didn’t hear anything again. Gbam. My guy man don pray finish. Halleluyah!
I knocked again, I come dey hear noises like say person dey arrange something. I could not wait again, I just entered.
See me see Pastor Konga. Sha the man is fine and that fact alone made me angry. He is using his fineness and bad English to scam people. Amoured combet ke.
He was sitting behind a large desk, gripping the edge of the desk hard and frowning, Bibles were open on the desk and a bottle of oil was there too.
“Yes?”
He was sweating, a side effect of correct prayer, I think.
“Pastor Konga dot com…erm…sorry. Pastor Konga my name is Kingsley Iwu. My wife is er…a member of this church and…”
“Who’s your wife?” the man was boning.
Why is he looking angry with me? Because I barged in on his payers? Haba. But my matter is urgent nah. Amoured combet cannot just be attacking me inside that church and I will just stay like that or maybe it is me that needs deliverance. Maybe angels are chasing me out of the church because I am a sinner.
“Sorry for disturbing your prayers sir,” I offered.
“Er…yes. No problem. Please be quick I would like to returned back to it.”
Did he say ‘returned back’? Omo, see gbabagaun nau. See if I be all these people wey dey screen churches, I will just ask the pastor to preach one sermon and if he just dey scatter grammar I will just order the church to be closed down. Hian.
Now how do I start to make this complaint that I will not look stupid? Pastor, my wife is not sleeping with me again because of you? And he hadn’t even asked me to sit down. So I took initiative and offered myself a seat, in the chair across him.
“Yes? Yes?” he prompted, tapping the desk.
“Erm…are you married, Pastor?” Safe approach, let’s talk man-to-man.
“No. The Lord hasn’t lead me yet but what is the business of that with this? Who is your wife?”
“Well, I thought you were married so we could talk like men but the bottom line is my wife is not sleeping with me except once a week because you apparently told her to cut down on her carnal crap. Is that what God sent you to do, Pastor?”
I could swear I heard a snort. From him? But his face didn’t move. And how dare he laugh at the mess he created?
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, “can we talk it another time Mister…Iwu? I am on the middle of something, please? I understand all you’re saying but now is a bad time…as you can see I am…er…praying.”
“But you’re talking to me now. Why don’t you just pick the phone and call my wife and tell her you heard wrong from God that she can absolutely have sex with me? What’s the big deal there? Besides let me tell you, I don’t believe that God will ever say such a thing. Wetin concern conductor with overload na?”
“Please sir, later please. I will attend to you…tomorrow. You know how it is when you’re praying and receiving from God. It is not good to interrupt spiritual things like that. Just come tomorrow eh and remember I am a man of God, so mind how you talk to me.”
“So tomorrow you will fix this problem?”
“Definitely.”
I wasn’t satisfied but it was obvious he wasn’t going to attend to me today and since he’d promised I would get answers tomorrow, I agreed to leave.

So I turned to leave. My mission had been futile. I walked to my car with head bowed, no sex tonight again? How long will this go on? I bent to open the car but realised that I wasn’t with my keys. I must’ve forgotten them in the office. Ooh! Now how will I go and interrupt the man’s prayers especially after how he kicked me out? Which kain bad luck be that one sef?

And yet no matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t avoid it. I had to leave this church with my car which meant I had to go back to the office.

I paused in front of the door as I heard the voices. Not just Pastor Konga.com but someone else. But how? There had been no one else in the office. Who was he then talking to?
And then the screams of oh my God and Jesus began again.
Do it. Just enter and pick the car keys as quietly as possible and leave. I told myself. No need to interrupt his intercession.
So I entered, without bothering to knock and my mouth fell open at the sight that met my eyes. Pastor Konga was sitting on his desk, head thrown back in ecstasy as a woman knelt before him, ‘praying’ at the altar of his penis. Both froze as they saw me. Perfect picture pose.

Without thinking twice, I whipped out my phone and said, “Say cheese.”
Well, to cut the long story short, me and my bootilicious wife got down to the deed that night. Apparently, God showed another vision to Pastor Konga.com saying that carnal desires with one’s husband weren’t a sin after all.
Ta-da! The day is saved!

 Author’s Note: Okay so I kept my word. It is finally over. My fingers didn’t grow a mind of their own this time. Yaay! This story hasn’t been about mocking anyone, it is just a way to get people to open their eyes and not let themselves be exploited by people bearing the form of godliness. You don’t need a human mediator to communicate to God, you can do it on your own because He listens to you too. You’re His child too. I do hope that as much as this has been entertaining, it has also been able to teach us some life lessons.
Thank you for following and oh…comments are welcome as always. Always.

Mimi A.

My First Love

I know everyone is thinking this is yet another ‘love’ or ‘romance’ titbit; well trust me not to disappoint you. This is the story of the Greatest Romance ever. But in a way you least expect.
Many years ago, I made a life changing decision that I have not regretted any moment since then. I walked up to the altar and pledged my life to God forever. I was barely a teenager when I took this serious decision but deep down I knew I’d never want it any other way. I wanted this. Needed it.
What followed thereafter was a feeling of euphoria like never before. I felt like I was walking on air. I walked out from church that day with an enormous smile on my face and faith- larger- than- a- mustard seed in my heart. I felt like I could take on the world with the God inside me. I knew if any sick or demon-possessed person was brought my way, I would’ve healed them immediately, because I felt larger than life. I had the authority of heaven backing me. What’s to fear? I felt like I was one step away from heaven. It was a beautiful feeling.
Like it is after making such a decision, we were counselled, encouraged and advised on how to go about the rest of our lives. They reminded us that our lifestyle could not remain the same. No one would prescribe to you what to do and what not to do, let the Spirit on the inside of you lead you along as you live.
I knew there had to be an outward evidence of my inward decision. I was barely a teenager but I knew something most definitely had changed. The inexplicable joy in my heart was there, I felt like I was high on something beautiful- God’s amazing love. I didn’t speak in tongues then, but it didn’t stop me from talking to God or feeling close to him. I was ready to volunteer my time to tell people about Jesus. I wanted everyone to feel what I was feeling! I didn’t take a step without consulting the Holy Spirit, yes, His opinion mattered a whole lot than any other person’s did.

Today, many years later, I wonder how that bigger-than-mustard-seed faith dissolved into something barely visible. I wonder how and when I lost that amazing faith in my God, when I stopped remembering that the God in me is greater than whatever crap is in the world. Yes, I quoted the scripture often but I barely felt it. I rarely stopped to even believe it.

This isn’t my story alone, this is the story of many age-long believers, at least back then when we gave our lives to Christ we knew there had to be physical attributes; now no one cares about that. People walk to the altar and take that pledge and return outside without so much as changing their lifestyles. They feel grace is there to cover up our many faults. And of course it is, but shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?

Here are a few questions I want us to ponder on, questions about what happened to that first love.

-How did Scriptures lose their inimitable power and become mere anthems to us?
-When did we start believing that praying in tongues was what made us believers rather than just enjoying the beauty of God’s love?
-When did we start believing that it was standing up to give large donations to the church made us better Christians than helping a brother/sister in need?
-What happened to the widow’s mite theory?
-When did we start judging people instead of reaching out to preach to them, tell them about God’s love?
-When did we stop caring about how many minutes we spend on our knees with our Maker? Remember it isn’t quantity but quality that matters.
-When did we lose that fire that burned in our bones for the work of the kingdom?
-When did we forget that we were bought with a price, the most expensive of all?
-When did we forget that our bodies are the temple of God?
-When did we start caring more about our fancy dresses rather than the state of our hearts?
-When did we stop caring about each other and start gossiping about our faults?
-When did we start to bring down with our words and actions, our own beloved brethren?
-When did we stop believing in the power of God WITHIN us?
-When did we start thinking and acting like the world and forget that we are the salt of the earth?
-When did we start believing that muttering in watered down tongues is more important than spending time to hear what God has to say to us?
-When did we begin to care more about what people thought of us than what God says about us?
-When did we stop really caring about what God thinks about us?
-When did we start feeling it was okay to forsake the gathering of brethren just because we felt like it?
-When did we start feeling comfortable with sin and making excuses for our weaknesses?
-When did we start complaining about God instead of counting our blessings?
-What happened to that first love? That love that filled our hearts to the brim, that love that made us euphoric like newlyweds, that love that was too beautiful to describe?

Think back to that feeling and ask yourself if you don’t want it back. Remind yourself of how much you love God. One thing I do know, He misses you. He misses how much you needed Him back then and of course, He isn’t judging; His arms are wide open waiting for you to run into them again.
Will you?

By Mimi A.

Author’s Note: This is more than just an article, this is from a heart that cares and understands what it means to have loved and lost the Greatest Love of your life.
Have a great Sunday all!

To Kiss or Not to Kiss…

The kiss tasted like…nothing. Forget that crap the movies and novels tell you about kisses tasting like vanilla, strawberries or even zobo. This one tasted like none of them. And for the first time in her life, nothing actually tasted sweet.
She’d imagined this moment many times but by God, she hadn’t imagined it would be this good. She might not have locked lips with that many people but seriously she wasn’t one to lose her head over a single kiss so she was pretty sure this one was darling.
It wasn’t one of those sloppy kisses where there’s more saliva than even lips. It was…oh…it was pure heaven. In life, she hadn’t had many guilty pleasures moment but this was definitely going to be filed in her Guilty Pleasures Book of Records.
You know how you know you’re not supposed to do something but you want to so bad that you just do it? That’s guilty pleasure otherwise known as fleshly desires. Oh she was so fleshy right now because it seemed her brain had momentarily stopped working while her heart was pounding like crazy.
She’d often wondered why people kissed with eyes closed, wondered what it’d be like if she tried it with open eyes. Now she knew why, kissing needs concentration to enjoy its impact, with your eyes open you might be distracted and thereby lose the magic in the moment. What is beautiful about kissing? Maybe the intimacy it brings, you’re indirectly telling this ‘someone’ that “I trust you enough to let you invade my space and get in my mouth.”

**********
In a time before now, kissing was a very big deal. You couldn’t go about kissing anyone without making some sort of commitment to them, and by commitment I mean marriage. Yes, it was that sacred. So when, when did it become something so random that a dude you’ve known for like five minutes has the guts to request a kiss? Seriously, you actually expect me to lock my precious lips with you? Okay, I can give you ten reasons why I should not, here goes:
Number one erm…Ebola is real Yes. Why should I trust your lips in these times that we are in? If Patrick Sawyer could do it, ehen…who are you?
Number two; what if your mouth stinks? Yes, you might have brushed but have you eaten? Don’t you know that not eating and not talking can cause your mouth to smell? Or have you checked if you have a natural mouth odour that doesn’t go the heck away no matter how many times you brush?
Number three; what if you’re a terrible kisser and you do the whole saliva thingy and leave my face all wet and smelly? Eeew…
Okay, let me stop here. Seriously, don’t these thoughts ever cross anyone’s mind anymore? So, for guys who go about randomly requesting kisses from girls they barely know…seriously you should consider this.
And I’m wondering when kissing became an obsession with this generation. A six year old kid knows what it means to kiss a girl, seriously? When I was six I didn’t even know that there was a difference between boys and girls! (okay, so maybe that’s not entirely true). But you get the drift. I think at the rate our world is going, soon; sex education will start from when our babies are still in the womb because it’s a crazy world out there.
I have even forgotten what this rant was about sef, but basically eh…it’d be a lie for anyone to tell you that kissing ain’t a big deal. If it wasn’t, why don’t you kiss every dude or dudette you come in contact with? Why be selective?
It is a big deal! There’s more to it than just exchange of broth and locking of lips. Why do you think the sex workers take exception to kissing their clients on the mouth? You think it’s because of hygiene?
See, a kiss can open up a well of emotions in you that you never knew existed. When lips lock, something begins to happen in the brain, there’s a pheromonal and sensory transmission to the brain. Some people have confessed to ‘having butterflies in their stomachs’ right after kissing someone.
Some people have gone through so many lips in a lifetime that they can’t tell the difference any more. Note that kissing someone you actually care about has a different effect. Perhaps that’s where the real magic is. Not in the act but in the heart.

In conclusion pals, kissing is an art taken on not by the best of artists; but by the best of hearts.

Mimi A. 2014

Sunday Tonic- Acceptance (Just For Laughs)

I don’t know about you but there are times I wish I could take some ‘adults’, lay them across my knees and beat the living shit out of them. I know how that feels, not to be able to take out your frustration on the perpetrator. If you attack a grown man like that so-called Pastor Konga, people will call you a tout or a thug, they will start quoting things like ‘touch not my anointed blah blah blah’. They will not want to understand that the idiot provoked it the moment he started peddling false gospel like telling wives to cut down on sex with their husband. That is how some of these men of God will leave the main thing that God sent them to preach and come and be interfering in people’s matrimonial lives. Who asked that one for advice now? Anyway, it is why I like to look well at all these ‘men of God’ before attending their churches because you don’t know the spirit that one is carrying. Some of them will be bored and broke, they will rush and open a ‘gathering’ and call it church. If to say God dey wicked, thunder go just dey strike all of them one by one.
Now see my naïve bootilicious wife; now I know she’s never been the brightest bulb in the department…eh, yes I know, don’t crucify me because I said it out loud.
How you wan make my wife con sabi suntin pass me? But kai, maybe if she knows book just small, she will know that this Pastor Konga.com is using her head.
This woman, let me not remind her of how when we first married, sex used to sweet her like suya. Every time she will come and give me that look she knows I cannot resist, indirectly communicating that she wants some. Now she is forming sister Holy-Pass-God when even God did not say such a thing. Which one be Sabbath day again biko? And that hogwash about Sunday being too holy to have sex, where the Bible tok that kain thing?
Wait sef, is that Pastor Konga.com married sef? I am sure if he’s married, he is not obeying all these stupid rules he’s giving his members. People like them na im like to do pass and they will now be spoiling other people’s runs, pouring san-san in other people’s garri. Okay na. I will show him and my wife. She will be the one that will come and beg me to sleep with her. Yes!

Shey it has been three weeks since she made that her announcement? Since that time she started sleeping with jean trouser as if that one will stop us if we want to do anything. She has forgotten that time that we were courting that she wore all that turtleneck sweater and jeans trouser with leggings under to prevent ‘sin’, kai…but I be bad boy sha. By the time I was ready for her, the leggings and trouser disappeared like no man’s business. So she all of people should know that that one no be obstruction. If I want it, I get it. And it will not be called rape.
It is only on Thursdays she used to wear her nightie that she knows I like. So this woman now did mental timetable and picked Thursday as the day she wants to be having sex. What does she take me for, anyway? She thinks I’m a dog that cannot do without bone, then she will toss me a bone every once in a while and I’m expected to jump at it? I will just surprise her

So after her revelation I did not say anything again. I just laughed, believing when the time comes she will come around. I know one thing my wife hates, is the silent treatment so that’s what I’ve been giving to her.
I will come back from work, take a shower, eat dinner and climb into bed without a word or even attempting to touch her. She will try to make conversation by asking me question but I kill the conversation with my monosyllabic answers.
When she climbs into bed beside me after an hour of ‘shababraking’ in the sitting room, I will peek and notice her pulling on her jean trouser. Okay, she still never learn lesson. Shey the Bible say, wives submit to your husbands and your body no longer belongs to you alone? My own wife is withholding from me what is mine in the name of Pastor Konga.com. The mere thought of it makes me angry especially since we had previously agreed that we will start trying to have children this year. How will one have children with once-a-week-Thursday sex?
So, for the past three weeks I did not touch my wife and my body feel am. The sexual tension was beginning to pile up in my body and literally make my heart palpitate. Since we got married, this was the longest we’d gone without sex (of any kind). During my travels, we always made sure we kept our sex life alive through the different ways which of course we all know. But this one was telling on me, and I saw it was telling on her too. It was not the idea of not having sex that was telling on her, but the fact that I wasn’t even trying to get her to sleep with me despite the one day a week allowance. I’m sure she was beginning to wonder if I was getting it elsewhere or if suddenly I was no longer attracted to her.
I was getting cranky with everyone around me. I soon had to confess to my guy Mezie what was happening in my home.
Know this, Mezie is thirty-four and single with three baby Mamas. Yes, that is how fertile and loose my friend is. Mezie is probably bad news to any of the male folk or even female folk but somehow, he’d found a place in my heart and he had an uncanny way of reading women seeing as he’s had many entanglements with them.
So, when I told Mezie my plight, the first thing he did was laugh.
“Guy, your madam dey craze ooh!” he said in between bouts of laughter.
“Shut up and give me better advice abeg.”
He did not shut up of course. He laughed till he was satisfied and then he said;
“You sure say that Pastor no dey knack am?”
“Eh?”
“Yes nah. Wetin you expect? You think say the Pastor tell all the members of im church say make dem no do? If I hear say the men for that church listen to am. Mtcheew. Na winch?”
Yes, Mezie had a point. Was that rule for only my wife and me or did the rest of the church listen to such nonsense too?
I realised I had to pay Pastor Konga.com a visit.

Mimi A. 2014

*****Dear readers, I really wanted to end it here. I really did. I promise I didn’t plan for an extra part of this story but somehow that mischievous part of me took over and voila! I promise the Part three should be the last part of this story. Just pray for me that my fingers will not develop a life of their own. Pray, brothers, pray!
Now, you know how we do it. We cannot read and laugh over this and not comment. I want to hear your wonderful thoughts, I really do. So kindly, kindly drop a comment for Pastor Konga and our M.C if you please. Thanks in advance for being such darlings!******

Sunday Tonic – Abstinence.(Just for laughs)

When my wife announced that she had repented and was joining the new church that opened on our street, I was indifferent because I was used to her declarations. Since I knew my wife, it seemed her favourite pastime was repenting. Did it bother me? Maybe not at first considering that I’d noticed her through one of her ‘repentance sessions’.

You know how after a sermon the Pastor makes an altar call for souls, and they ask the congregation to shut their eyes while the sinners raise their hands? Well, I’ve always found the raising-your-hand thingy a bit awkward but not as awkward as when no one heeds to the altar call and the Pastor is left looking (but not necessarily feeling) stupid. My wife has never been one to be ashamed of putting up her hand, whether she’s the only one or not.
On the occasion we met, it was during one of those altar calls and even though the Pastor had instructed us to shut our eyes, I peeked. Oh did I peek! My church haunts were not usually for pure reasons anyway, they were usually to scope a babe or have a fair feast of the shaking bom-boms and the winking choristers, so every opportunity I had to look I did.
That day my wife’s hand was the first to shoot up and I saw her walk to the front with her head bowed. She had one of the largest bom-boms I’d ever seen on a woman her size and I didn’t know when my mouth dropped open right there during altar call! Even the swishing gown she wore did not hide the fact that her backside was A-mazing! That was when I took interest in Sister Big bom-bom (which is what I secretly called her before I got to know her name)
Later when we got married and I related the encounter to her, she laughed and told me that God told her if she answered that altar call, she will meet her husband. I grimaced when I heard this because I certainly did not feel like a pawn that’d been played. I saw, I liked, I pursued and I conquered. Shikena.
We’d been married for four years when I noticed that my wife seemed to be itching to go on a ‘repenting’ spree again and that was how we found ourselves in the new church that opened down the street. When the altar call was made, my wife was the first to jump up; I tried to catch her eyes to tell her to sit her ass back down but she paced determinedly to the altar. This woman! Me, I couldn’t help noticing that her backside and I began to imagine that other brothers in church were enjoying the sight too. The sight of my own wife’s ass.
I will have to have a talk with her about that. See how she’s walking as if na fashion parade. All these men peeping should know that it’s for my eyes only. Haba! Who knows maybe that’s why she even answered the altar call! I fumed.
That is how my wife repented for the umpteenth time but this time something changed. For good or bad, I am still trying to decide.
So after I returned home one day, she served me my best meal of yam and goat meat pepper soup .
“What are we celebrating?” I asked.
“A good understanding husband,” she cooed.
Knowing my wife well, I should’ve known that something was up her sleeve but the aroma of the goat meat pepper soup tickled my nostrils and deceived me.
She didn’t waste time in broaching the subject while I was still recovering from the effect of the pepper.
“Honey…er…don’t be angry but I want to talk to you about something,” she began.
“Ah. Now I know why you cooked the food. Oya, what is it?” Maybe she needed money for something.
“Er…I think the Spirit is leading me…to erm…tell us to reduce our erm…carnal activities,”
I wasn’t trying to play dumb but I did not understand her when I said “Eh?”
“You know the Bible says to be carnally minded is death…”
“Yes? So what carnal things should we reduce?”
She smiled, “Sex.”
“What?” I thought I hadn’t heard well.
“Pastor Konga said that to be carnally minded is death.”
“And?”
“And…you know…sex is carnal. It is not good to be doing it every time.”
“I thought you said it was the Spirit that led you to that?”
“Yes, the Spirit through Pastor Konga.”
Bull crap. The idiot man was brainwashing people! “Okay, so your Pastor forgot the part where it said couples should not abstain from sex except it is agreed for a period of time? Tell me first, what kind of reduction are we talking about? Like five times in one week? Shey you will do timetable ni?”
“Er…honey. Once a week is okay, you pick the day,” she added in a small voice, “except Saturday and Sunday sha.”
“What??” my voice was louder this time. I swear I could feel the anger bubbling within me.
“Saturday is Sabbath. Pastor Konga said…said that we should not do anything on Saturdays. And Sunday is a holy day. We should not indulge our fleshly desires.”
She was saying it so reverently that I realised she was serious. My wife stood there, dressed in sexy bum shorts that hugged her thighs telling me that I could not touch her except once a week from Mondays to Fridays. Was she for real?
That’s when I burst into laughter. She had to be kidding, abi?

 

 
By Mimi A.

 

***Ahem peeps, I hope you enjoyed this er…piece? I have good news. There’s gonna be a second part (don’t yaaay yet) but that depends on whether you drop your comments here telling me how you feel about this story and of course your suggestions on what the M.C should do. Any ideas? Let’s go people! Thank you in advance!******

Goth Girl: Isn’t There A Band-Aid for HeartBreak?

Confidential: The Goth Girl’s Diary: Is there no Band-aid for heartbreak?

 

 

 

You think you are recovering. You think things are looking up for you. You think you’re beginning to forget and you tell yourself that things are back to normal. You are back to normal.

Until you get that phone call; that unexpected SMS from the ex. Only, the Ex is just for show because they still very much own your heart. Your heart refuses to Ex-ile them even when your head and your lips do.

Your phone beeps and you see:
“I miss you.”
Your first instinct is to punch back a reply; like you used to before when his texts were what lightened your world.

And then you remember. You remember that things have changed; that you parted ways a few months ago. That you no longer have the liberty to spill how you feel.
It doesn’t stop the feelings from tumbling out; the memories you’ve been trying to bury by creating new ones, spill to the surface; raw as ever. Like it was only yesterday you said goodbye to the one you loved.
When will it stop hurting to think about him? When will you have the courage to look at his picture and not feel a pang of…something? Can these feelings die already!

But then again, how do you erase years of friendship, love, laughter, fights…memories? You wish they would disappear like they didn’t exist; and yet sometimes remembering those moments you shared is what keeps you sane.
You put up a smiling face for everyone so they don’t see how much it hurts inside, so they don’t think you’re weak. You make them see you’re happy without him. You don’t let them know that some nights you soak your pillows with tears of longing; that sometimes the short breaks you take in the toilet stall are actually timeouts to cry your heart out.
They say time heals all wounds but you’re beginning to think that some wounds never heal. No, you just get used them being there that at some point you become familiar with the pain it brings you.
You do not know if you want the wound of losing his love healed, or if you want to wrap the pain around you as a companion. Something to remind you that love is pain and that when you give all that you are to a particular someone, you never really get all of you back.
Your friends ask how you’re doing and you reply with the clichéd ‘fine’, your pain is yours to bear and not to share. You refuse to admit that when you remember him sometimes, you feel like an addict who’s going into withdrawal. How can you explain that there are times that the pain is so much that tears are a luxury?
Is there no Band-aid for heart break, you wonder? You know that heartbreaks have been overrated, every chick on the block claims to have been heartbroken because they like how it sounds when the words roll down their tongue but have they really? Have they felt like tearing out their hearts and squeezing to death every ounce of sentiment in it, just so that they can stop ‘feeling’ things? Have they?

 

 

 

Yours truly: Alone and heart wrenched; the ‘dark’ girl.