TRAPPED...

Sometimes,

I wish I had the chance to start over.

I want a new life.

I hate the life I’m living.

I feel I’m living in a box, trapped and counting down to a disaster.

I am an expressive person but my passions die slowly every other day. I dream of a beautiful day, of cherries, of flowers and a smiling sun…

…Then I wake up and I’m still here.

I wish I had more to write, more to say but all I can think of is how much more time do I have till I implode?

Thoughts

I have never really been a child. Don’t get me wrong I have great parents. Saying otherwise would mean being an ungrateful child because they gave everything. They gave up their life and made tough choices.

Where I come from, ‘I love you’ is not said. It is shown in sacrifices and they did love me so much. I just wished the little girl in me understood all that then.

I feel alone most times. I used to be my own protector till I understood God. Understanding the mysteries of faith has still not helped wipe away that emptiness. That feeling that I want to sleep and not worry.

I cry most times out of frustrations. I am an insomniac simply because I worry. I have known worry since I was 12. I have not been able to shut my eyes in peace. I worry about everything, looking over my shoulder all the time.

I have been told several times to ‘relax and be calm’. It is easy to say especially when most people prove you right. The demons I battle every night don’t let me off easily.

Most times, I want my childhood back. I want to sleep with no worries and without springing up with that constant dream of falling into a hole all chained and bound like an animal with no one to rescue me.

I always look out for people who can watch my back while I sleep. Someone who can say ‘I got you’ and mean it. I have had a few of these in the past but you know, life happened. Life tells you nothing is perfect so you choose to either stay with ‘I got you’ and ignore the other variables or walk away. All the times, I walked away.

I’m up again, thinking of the odd choices I have made out of fear and uncertainty. I am thinking of my present situation, I still want my childhood. I want a shot at being able to sleep, being taken care of with no fear of harm or betrayal. Being able to close my eyes and walk the remaining distance knowing someone here on earth has got me.

Loneliness is a thing of the mind. I am perpetually lonely in the midst of a crowd. My thoughts give me no relief. I am bound by expectations of behaviour. It’s even worse now that I am afraid of reacting to issues. I smile stupidly, nod and giggle at unfunny things so I don’t come off as odd or angry. 

Relief comes once in a while when I can slip out in the dark and take a long walk, let out a high-pitched scream and walk back into my bed.

LESSONS

Selfishness:

One of the things I have learned in my life is to be selfish. Recently I have not been selfish and it has cost me a lot. Everyone loves himself or herself more than the next person so why not love you more than that person?

Let me tell you a bit of how selfishness can save you and make you more human. The holy books say to love ‘your neighbour as you love yourself’. Now you see the thing is we all have ways we love ourselves and one of the basic human needs is to be treated the way you want/like/love to be treated and not how another person likes being treated. We want our unique moulds to be recognised and put into consideration. Now if you want to keep to the neighbourly commandment, it means recognising the unique mould of another person and treating them the way they want to be treated/loved because that is what a selfish you will love.

Disappointments are good

I used to wail and panic and try to control situations in order to stem disappointments but I am acquiring a new aura of calmness about things. The logic is this; disappointments help you see the chink in another human’s armour. It exposes their vulnerability. It helps you measure trust. If I am expected to maintain a certain standard and I fall below it constantly, it is normal to demote me from that standard.

You know the old me used to think ‘expect nothing from people so you do not get disappointed’ but no, it is a sad way to live. We all come to life with expectations. It could be good, bad or unsure but there are always minimal expectations from everyone you meet. Expecting an outcome/yield/behaviour etc. from someone/something is a measure of respect/esteem or lack of it you have for that person/thing.

Now you see, when you hold those expectations, a disappointment is good. It’s a chance to reassess the situation and change the players in your life’s script.

It is obvious that if I expect nothing from you, you are on the lowest rung of life’s ladder for me. That means you are of no value to me and very dispensable. It is a sad place to be.

You can always do better

This seems a bit cliché but you can always do better. Okay, let me put it this way; ever had mind-blowing sex and you think “Yes!!!’ or ‘Finally!!!’ then you part ways and there is this other girl/guy who then proceeds to take you into unexplored realms of pleasure?

Yes, that’s the way it is. We always have standards/tastes that keep evolving. The good thing is every step up the ladder tells you what could lie ahead. I am not saying there is a definite measurement for what lies ahead but look back and tell me I am wrong.

Whatever you do, know when to pass and when to fold

Unacceptable

So today’s blog is a bit different. I am not sure if it qualifies for The Aisle but enjoy it (or try to) anyway. I just got this story and tried to capture it as best as I can in the words it was told. Took the title from a movie I saw over the weekend 'The Terminal"(plot totally different)

So have you ever thought of marrying someone so bad that you choke and cry just thinking of her? The emotions you feel when she pops into your head is that of so much happiness, joy, peace, reassurance that no matters what happens, she is your anchor. She is the reason you will do shit that makes no sense but still think it is okay?

Now this is one girl who has been there for me all through the bad times. First I wanted her as my best friend, and then she wanted me as her lover now all I can think of is how to make her happy and keep her deified and untouched by no one. All I can think of is how to make her happy but I cannot and it makes me deeply sad.

That is how fucked up I am right now. My thoughts are a mess but I am not confused; I am clear as to whom I am and what I want to do. I want to marry her not fuck her. I want to be the one she comes back to every day and tells about ups, downs and mysteries that run in her head. I want to be the one who provides answers to her troubles.

Now you see, we are two girly girls. We are not what the society stereotypes but we are still what most of them reject simply because they do not understand how we feel. Is it strange that we love dick but love each other more?

When I think of marriage, when I think of that one person I’ll rather grow old with, watch poop, watch get sick and get well, when I think of laughter and legs outstretched and interlocking each other in the Zanzibar sun, all I think of is her. 

What is 'Love' to you?

First post of 2015, Mr Y and I have been doing some changes...

Sometimes you need to hit rock bottom before you find the will to float.

Many times, great men and women have sold themselves short for acceptance, for love, for integration. The sad part is that the price is often times very expensive. You lose yourself and paint it as an immersion.

Sometime ago, a friend of mine said I should stop using the word ‘love’ a lot. I use it quite loosely because I love almost everything that appeals to me at the moment. Could be animate or inanimate, all I know is it is cute, pretty, nice and then I start loving it. Such feelings are usually fleeting and short-lived. After I spoke with my friend, I realised I was loving things I liked.

Now I have loved my family all my life and cannot trade them for others despite how much we annoy each other. I had a talk with my Dad this evening where he eulogised his mother and told me how much he can understand the love a child has for his/her mother because despite his mum’s shortcoming, she could do no wrong in his eye when she was alive. It further confirmed my feelings towards family. I love my friends too, all of them with their quirks and glory. My friends are family so you see?

One thing I know however is that the love I have for my family and friends is not the fleeting feeling I get from temporarily liking the features of a thing. It is that protectiveness, that desire to see them smile, the desire to do things that will bring laughter to their face, the willingness to help them on the path to excellence, the little things that make their days easier and lets them know that they are always appreciated. I will stay up even when I am feeling terribly sore just for family. I’ll drive to the airport (I hate driving) to pick up friends (not because they cannot afford the fare) just because I want to be the one taking them home and spending that gisting time. If I think my friend feels low and I can afford a spa time, that what we will be doing…spa!

If my friends or family travel, I will be checking up on them, not because I am stalking them but because I feel a level of care towards them. I am on-hand for emergencies when friends or family call, because I naturally assume someone in the pool I belong to will be the first contact. The emergencies could be anything from ‘vex money’ to ‘I am dying’. Either way, I have programmed myself in such a way that I will not be found lacking when it’s time to lend an urgent hand. Why? It simple, I have a deep sense of affection towards my friends and family. If you call it love, you are not wrong.

Love means different things. To me it is an utmost sense of responsibility. It is the willingness to bend to please. It is sacrifice. Love has no mode of operation. It is unique to every situation and individual. It has no manuals. Your depth of affection dictates how much you are willing to bend or break. Love is a scale of preference for me. Love determines who/what takes precedence on my list of things to do in life. Love determines the flexibility of my list. Love is handing out all you have and expecting nothing in return.

I do not speak love, I show love…

Mrs Y

A DAY WITH FAMILY

I had a great time taking down an Amala empire with the help of my ever loyal stomach. It is always a fantastic thing when you find a place where you can eat like you are home. I am supposed to be on a diet. I don’t even know why I do this to myself.

My day went quite fast. I went down to the carwash…my car was beginning to look like a dump. I threw anything and everything I wouldn’t put in my house into my car. Discarded bits from my rendezvous all went there. To imagine this was a car I loved and bought? Yeah, love is a fleeting sensation.

I made some calls on behalf of Mr. X and got him hooked up on some deal he wanted. That man has some nerves though. I called to give him the good news and he claimed he was busy and I should call back. In my usual fashion, I rushed through the gist in Five seconds and cut off the line only for him to call back sounding happy and interested in a conversation. I politely declined and continued my day.

On getting home, I felt lonely. The Hubby was away on some business deal. I packed my bags and went off to the family house. I love family. Nice meals, Wi-Fi, Premium Channel DSTV, non-blinking electricity supply. Yes, I love them

Mrs. Y

WEIRD 2 DAYS

I don’t know why I do some of the things I do honestly.

I thought I could get some peace and quiet on Tuesday night. I ducked the Hubby and landed at Mr. X’s place. Did I do it because Mr. X suspected I was seeing someone else? Did I do because Iya got me in a fix with her phone call during lunch with Mr. X sitting across from me trying hard not to show interest in a conversation he was obviously eavesdropping in?

I really do not know but I guess I felt a little guilty with “Yes Mummy, I’ll be seeing him this evening” when that ‘him’ was not Mr. X.

The night was uneventful and for some moments, it felt good. I slept off peacefully shrugging off Mr. X’s touches. For a moment, his touch made my skin crawl. It was alien to me at that point.

Then the morning came and World Peace shattered. I tried to shrug off the nauseating feeling of being touched by Mr. X. I quickly showered and got dressed. Work was going to be eventful. I don’t know if Mr. X was having a horny carryover but somehow he got me back to where I left off and there I was getting my nice prim dress ruined and my parts plugged.

I wasn’t that happy but as the time went by, all I wanted to do was get to work. he irritated me.

getting to work, I tried to wave off the feeling and get back into the groove. He didn’t encourage it.

Fast forward to last night, I told him I was putting myself in the line of danger and he didn’t bother to check up on me. I still went to his place and found him happily asleep.

I was hurt last night but ashamed that I had thrown myself at this man.

The Hubby has been quite nice…checking up, loving up. I have to change.

Mrs. Y