
My heart is broken and my tears have since finished. Maybe I am a freak of nature, atleast he did say that during one of his many verbal attacks or maybe I am not supposed to go through life happy. All the same, I accept, howbeit sadly the things that I cannot change. Like a woman possessed I have spent countless nights mourning this loss. Okay he left me and so what you say? I should move on they all say, but how? Can somebody please stop talking and show me how to mend a broken heart!!!!
My sisters have piled up countless books on my table. "Act like a Lady think Like a Man", " A Lover's guide to Happiness" and so on, but what you all fail to realise is that the hurt, I feel no one understands. The pain that greets me everytime, I think of how he used to love me!. We used to play all the time. Okay, let me talk about my loss, maybe in understanding the hurt that I feel, you would stop judging me and calling me the names you call me now.
We met in London some two years ago. It was a warm summer night and I was desperate for a calm drink. I had bills to pay, no money and I needed a pub to quench my fears and maybe a cigar or two. I walked into a busy pub in central London with just one aim in mind! Drink until I am too numb to think about all my bills! I rushed to the bar man and ordered a huge pint of beer. My beer could not come soon enough, I was thirsty, afraid and worried and this "stella Artois" was my salvation. Sipping my drink, I slowly started to observe my environment, you know taking it all in. As I looked at all the Londoners make merry, I saw him, my light, my man, my African prince!
He was sitting alone looking all cute, with a face that said I am happy, I am cute, I have the world in my temple worshipping me. I wanted to fall on my knees and worship this King that looked so bloody cute. I wanted to walk up to him and say all the things my heart was saying but I waited. Afterall, I was raised in Nigeria and I am Nigerian. Nigerian women do not chase men, our men hunt us down. Bloddy hell, I wanted this man so much, my internal taps were breaking loose! Still, I sat down and gave him the stare of his life. In that one moment his eyes caught mine and he smiled, I smiled too, hmm those teeth, they were perfect, he was indeed a demi god I thought.
He walked up to me and said hi, my name is Aina, am currently at the London School of Economics studying for an MBA, whats your story. I did not hear a word he had said, my eyes were locked in his and all I wanted was to give him the key of my apartment and take him home forever. Oh, I saw myself in a wedding dress, marrying Aina, yes that was his name and he is Nigerian, I was staring at my husband and I knew it! He turned to walk away and I quickly shouted, Aina my name is Mya, but I am Nigerian as well from Ogun State precisely. Do you care for a drink? I asked. He ordered for drinks and paid for them, I was happy a true gentleman, today is indeed my lucky day I thought.
I insisted he follow me to my house for a quick coffee, he declined. He is not into coffee he said too Western for his taste buds. I didn't push, when you are Nigerian, single and in London, you don't push because you don't want to seem desperate. We exchanged numbers and that is how it all began. We became inseperatable, he was my soul mate, lover and best friend. I quit smoking and drinking all together, he became my addiction. I met his family in London and he met mine. We talked about marriage, children, finances and all the things lovers talk about. I wanted a December 2010 wedding, we had been together for a while now so I think we are ready. I opted for a Nigerian wedding, to tell everyone I was married for real. I flew into Paris with my mum shopped like crazy picked out all the brides maid clothes and my beautiful, beautiful wedding gown. Ours was a fairy tale and I wanted the wedding to be a dream. I had the faint notion that may will be inspired by our story and people will fall in love during our wedding ceremony.
I kept myself busy with work and wedding plans and did not notice that Aina called less and less. When Nneka brought this to my attention, I panicked. Okay I take that back, I noticed but somehow, I did not want to be the woman who nags alot. He said he was busy with "dissertation" so I let him do his thing. Anyways, I went over to his apartment to give him the "we have to talk" speech. I got my parents to put an hold to the invites until we settled things between us. The family introduction was a huge success, it held in my parents house in East London. Infact, it was after our formal introduction and my trip to Paris he started acting all weird and crazy. So, here I am sitting in his apartment giving him the speech all men hated. I told him he had changed and I miss us spending time together. He said, there was nothing to worry about that he loves me more than life. I spent the night with him and we did what couples do. It was so sensational that I forgave him instantly. He agreed that we should postpone the wedding until he finished his Masters and got a job. I agreed, even though I am in my late twenties, I am not desperate to be married.
Things went from bad to worse and then out of the blues Aina calls me to come meet him up at Starbucks. I thought he hated coffee. I met up with him and after two rounds of coffee, he looked me in the eyes and said, I can't continue like this, its killing me, I love you but, I can't marry you. Its complicated, he said. I died a thousand times, if he was drinking alchohol, I would understand, he can't be high on coffee? or can he? I started crying, he was so embarrased, took me to his car and said he wants us to be friends but we can't get married. I asked amidst tears is there someone else? He answered no. Then what the hell is the problem, I was raising my voice at this point. he said he is 31 and not ready for marriage. The prick he was. He could have said this like last year, before we met my Parents and all, what the fuck is I am not ready? I went from angry to sober and went on my knees begging him not to break my heart. What about all our friends and family? He didn't seem to mind, we were over he kept saying.
I went home in a taxi, hoping he will come running, begging that it was a mistake, he did not. All this happened in February, 2010 and this is June my heart still bleeds, the tears still flow and he is not begging to come back. Infact, I saw on facebook that he is dating Ijeoma a mutual friend who was in his MBA programme. I was dead, but alive enough to cry. I am a shadow of my old self. I love the job, I once hated as that is what keeps me busy each day. My family are crushed, they loved him but they are staying strong for me. I have contemplated suicide but I have started attending Redeemed Christain Church and I am meeting more people each day. They are encouraging me to wait on the Lord. Thankfully, I am not boozing away my sorrow, I am trying not to say "fuck the pig" all the fucking time. I know the Lord now can He please make the pain go away? I am so sad, not happy, Nneka is getting married and I am not happy for her. I love her, but it should have been me!!!
I am not going to read any stupid relationship book. I am hurting and all they say is be strong act like a bitch men love that well screw them, I don't care anymore. I started this blog today, told all my friends, I will blog about pain until I feel better. I encourage all who are huring to blog about it on my page. Maybe together we can make ourselves feel better and love again. I need someone to talk to on my cell all the time, someone to love me for me, someone who knows how great I am on the inside and how I cry when I see people suffer. I need a man that loves me. I am depressed but like Pastor says it will get better. I choose to believe, even in my great sadness!
reposted from: http://tellitasitis9ja.blogspot.com

no one truly can understand the words of our hearts..
ReplyDeleteeven when we speak, the art of langauge fails in demystifying the meanings held in the unspoken.. no one can truly understand.. none exept one..
hi ..love your piece..
nice.. the sage...
http://thepharrouque.blogspot.com/
Thank you
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