Tag Archives: feelings

A Letter To My Favorite Human Being

Dear Kenny,

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My beautiful Kenny.

As mama and I prayed for you this morning she made mention of a little boy in primary school who told her he was upset that your teacher spoke to you about laughing in class. He said, “Mrs M, I don’t like what the teacher said because if Kie-Kie’s not in class there’s no light, nobody laughs and we don’t have any fun.” It made me cry because I realized I wasn’t the only one counting on you for a reason to smile. I’ve been sharing you with the world and yet for 28 years we’ve been holding hands. You’ve been holding me.

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You know how obsessed I am with R&B music? The kind you can’t stand. The sweet melodies and ballads of broken hearts. The unapologetic expressions of sexuality and public declarations of undying love. The songs for mama. Allow me this one time to quote one of my favourites (may her soul rest in peace): “If tomorrow is judgment day, and I’m standing on the front line and the Lord asks me what I did with my life, I will say, I spent it with you”. I have very few memories without you, not because we haven’t had to live continents apart for many years, but because there’s very little I care to remember in your absence. Thank you for being my left ventricle, my spleen, my big toe, my right nostril. My whole heart.

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Sparks-Brigols, a lifetime with you will never be enough but a day was more than I deserved, so 28 years—well that’s just God. HAPPY BIRTHDAY. I pray you live a life coveted by the stars and celebrated by the skies. I selfishly pray your reality is your dream and your dreams are your heart because your heart is my bond. It’s all I have to share with this world.

And I wittingly do so because your love…it’s the bestest most funnest love out there.

kenny

Nakupenda more than I will ever know how,

Pie

 

P.S.

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Thanks for teaching me so much!

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Thanks for always watching my back.

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Thanks for being my best friend.

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I love you.

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I wanna go home.

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What if… we bled?

The poetry our hearts can speak is often imprisoned by our reservations. Overflowing cells guarded by the fear that we won’t be heard, won’t be loved, won’t be wanted. What bravery it takes to bleed so openly as to sing against the score of our prescribed existence. To feel something in a world that asks us to be numb. Feel something. For someone. A refugee. A friend. A parent. A lover. Someone.

“I see the changes in your eyes
The spark that’s in your smile
Just ain’t the same no more
The way you hold me close
The heaven in your hello
Just ain’t the same no more
What if I gave you everything
Would we be okay 
If I gave my love to you
Would we be okay
If I gave you everything 
Would we be okay
If I gave my love to you
Would we be okay” – Jacob Banks

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Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man

“Don’t be afraid to lose him, because if a man truly loves you, he’s not going anywhere.” – Steve Harvey

These past few months I’ve been writing a lot about heartbreak. You see I got my heart broken by someone I loved deeply and somehow unloving him has been the biggest challenge I’ve faced in my personal life lately. He is the 2nd man I have dated but the 1st I have ever been in love with, so understandably there will be scarring on my heart that will take some time to clear.

I’ve never been the kind of girl that NEEDS to be in a relationship; I don’t feel a sense of emptiness when I’m not dating and there is nothing I despise more than serial dating. Which is coincidentally what he has gone and done. This I have to say is what really broke my heart. Now I get it, men and women are different. Some men heal by moving on to the next one and some women (me included) heal by dealing with the hurt, grieving the loss and making peace with what can be no more. Knowledge of this doesn’t take away the pain any faster, so I did what I thought I would NEVER do- I read “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man”. A relationship book– oh the shame!act like a lady

I found a lot of it more applicable to older women (I’m in my early twenties), who have had children and past marriages, but what I found helpful was how direct Steve Harvey was in explaining the actions of men and the simplicity that is the male mind. The best advice I took however is what I have chosen to quote above. I wouldn’t go as far as to say he didn’t love me, but I understand that my fear of letting him go will hurt ONLY me. Clearly he has moved on, he is with someone he could possibly grow to love much more than what he could me, and rather than be chewed up by my bitterness, I have to accept that this is a choice he has made. That said, I personally cannot serial date in effort to move on because it just isn’t how I’m wired. I believe people who do so end up carrying baggage from one relationship to the next; which I fear is what played a role, however minor, in the demise of ours. Furthermore, I’ve always believed that if I give my heart away too many times, by the time the right one comes along he will only get what’s left of me, not all I would want to give.

I guess what I am trying to say is, tears and a broken heart mean I actually cared, so I refuse to be ashamed of them or try to bandage them up in something new and shallow. However, time will heal these wounds. Until then I get to focus on being the best possible version me that I can be because I know that the right man will be deserving of nothing less.

I can definitely say having read the book that I do feel a stronger sense of acceptance. It’s over. He’s moved on. I’m single.

And you know what, I think this is ok.

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Breathe

Breathe.
It hurts.
But there will come a day when it doesn’t anymore.

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“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you.”

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Some women say after labour they forget the pain that once was and this allows them to entertain the idea of birthing more children. Perhaps heartbreak is similar. We love again because new love makes us forget the pain that once was. A different face, a different size hand to hold, a more intoxicating kiss convinces us that it’s different enough to work this time- even though precedent clearly states otherwise. Our brokenness from the old will leak into the new, and we’ll excuse our bad behaviour by citing open wounds from previous heartbreak. We’ll argue and yell and then we’ll cry and sleep. But every ounce of love we give and every time we say the words to accompany it will be lost forever to a passing moment. And when it ends- when we look for the last time and realize that there are no more steps to be taken and there is no more love to be shared, we’ll regret we loved at all. We’ll hurt and lie by saying that we’ll never love again. But surreptitiously, we know we will. Because like that woman cradling her baby, we will forget that a pain so severe brought with it such a love.

 

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The Fake Smile

I fake smile a lot. Lately, often, I’m dying inside, but I detest the scent of spectators so I have to hide the emotional bruising and the anger; the pain and the feelings of inadequacy. It seems the only time I confront myself and all I’m feeling is when I’m completely alone- disconnected from the world in every way I can manage.  I feel like I don’t believe in happiness anymore. It’s become a fairytale I’m tired of hearing; a burden of lies my mind has grown to reject. I position myself in front of a mirror. I smile. I can’t cheat the cheater.

So I challenged myself to not smile. To look straight at the camera and feel as I felt and look as I looked.

I am what I am however broken I am; sometimes that is all I can find the energy to be and unfortunately, sometimes, this has to be enough.

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