THE LOVE SERIES
I’ve often wondered about the mystery that is love. I used to think that I know what love is but really, do I? The first time I fell inlove (I think), I was nineteen and he was my 3rd boyfried. He was intrigued by me too but whether he loved me is a different story.
My best friends were infatuated with him. I mean, he was hot. I never told them about my feelings. Infact, I tried to hide them. So everytime they spoke of him I said as little as possible when necessary. I never wanted them to find out about the turmoil in my heart. At that point in time, I considered a show of emotions equal to weakness. I was raised up to pile it all inside not express it.
He was the first man that made my heart literally ache if a day passed without hearing from him. I would record our phone calls only so I could go back and listen to them when I missed him. I wrote poems about him and how I felt. On tough days, I wrote about how he hurt me. I fought myself for months before finally caving in to him. The most we ever shared was a tiny pecking of our lips yet no man has ever made my heart ache as he did.
I would have forgiven him for any ill doing if he apologized and made effort to do better next time. The one time I refused to swallow his nonsense and went silent on him for more than a month my body reversed to what months of workout never reversed it into. That was when I knew that my heart would explode into a million pieces if he were to be no more. Yet I waited in heartfelt agony until he searched me out from my misery of being away from him.
It wasn’t long after that he broke my heart beyond repair. Yet I can never say that I didn’t see it coming because he was my best friend and I knew exactly what he stood for and believed. I knew what he wanted and dreamed. I knew that he wanted me but I wasn’t alone. He wanted others too and that on its own was enough to shatter me. I knew it all because he’d told me before. The insecurities birthed henceforth are still perched high on my mind.
So I let him go in utter agony. He tried to hold on but I could never allow myself to have a piece of him and share the rest. I stayed true to myself that if I couldn’t have it all then I don’t want it. Heri nusu shari kuliko kukosa never applied to me. I loved him so much my body felt it but I loved myself too. When they say the first love never really goes away I relate. He was my first love and he was born on lover’s day.
Here’s the first poem I wrote of him:
I want you; I want you so bad it hurts
Yet we are pledged to others
I’ve never been a cheater
Never been one to share two beds
Not from different lovers
You are not an alternative
Never have been and never will be
Because no matter how long our lust lasts
Mental attraction forever prevails physical pull
And that’s where the problem lies
Because I love your smile
I love your glassy eyes
I love how you are always in control
Because I like being controlled
But only within the confines of our walls
With no doors, just windows for the light
Don’t be mistaken, I don’t love you
The same way you don’t love me
No feelings attached, remember
Just the raw heat from our bodies
But, you will never touch this body
Only get to fantasize about all
All the things I could do to you
All the things you could do to me
Everything we could do to each other
But never get to touch, to feel
Exactly what it is we are missing
I’ve beared my mind to you
Because you pressed the button
Made me want to reveal
The darkest but not the deepest desires
Buried in me, yet you withhold from me
I vomit yet you only get to spit
In this dangerous road we tread
That you made me believe has a sweet end
You trick me into walking alone, all alone.
The funniest part about all this is that maybe he never got to know that he was my first love. I loved him but not once did I ever tell him. He forever remains to be the one that got away.
