Its ride or die woman. If you’re with me be with me and if you aren’t, pack up. I had just gotten out of my chemotherapy, to find out all that I had known to be a lie. I could still remember the words clearly in my head ‘’If you don’t love me pretend’’.
Joseph and I met few years back, we had kicked off very easily as casual friends seeing as we had similar interests, views and ideas about a whole lot of things. That was when he started to develop strong feelings for me, I wasn’t the ‘dreamy love’ type; heck the word even scares me so much that I did not want to be moving around anyone who was coming in that line.
Well in this case it was too late because he was already my friend and I liked his company a lot and I wasn’t about to give it up for some fear. Joseph came clean to me about how he felt and that was when he said, “I know that all this love talk isn’t you so, if you don’t love me pretend”. That’s was how our love story began.
We had got so serious that for me, home was where ever he was. It wasn’t all roses we had disagreements and misunderstandings but none of that deterred us from each other or what we felt. We were happy, at least I thought we were or maybe the word happiness had and always has been overrated. It doesn’t exist I thought to myself.
Relieving the pain that gnashed at my skin, I was forced to face the reality that stared me in the face. He was seeing someone else, he was cheating on me, did I mean so little? My body jerked from the pain that tore at it as tears rolled down my cheek. I tried to think of something joyful in hopes that I would probably forget what I felt, that was when I remembered that even my joyful moments were all lies.
Amazed at how everything had played out and for once it didn’t even occur to him that my heart was on an experiment that meant it wouldn’t come back complete.
“I am just a man, mistakes are bound to happen”, he yelled.
I understood that but not doing it repeatedly and still call it a mistake or did it become a mistake because I had discovered what was going on.
This time I yelled back, “where is your commitment to us, what we are, what we shared and what we were meant to be”
He tried to speak but I raised my hands in the air cutting him off, I just didn’t want to listen anymore, I was tired of hurting, I just couldn’t handle anymore lies.
DIFFICULTY IN MOVING ON
WHEN YOU’VE HAD ENOUGH: We might or probably never have been in this kind of situation before, the vast fact still remains that most people have and still going through the same ordeal. It doesn’t stop there, if you feel that the person isn’t worth it then don’t even bother, this might prove a bit challenging but not impossible.
You must learn to embrace the wholeness of the you inside of you. Sometimes we feel that we are in so much pain at that moment nothing else matters, well you’re right nothing else matters just you. You are the only thing that matter not the pain that you feel, so stand up pick whatever pieces that is left of your supposed shattered heart and move on.
Let the passion to move on drive you, channel the hurt and pain into something you want to achieve for yourself, something that you could look back on and say yes I made it. Stay true to yourself, because no one would give it your touch.
IS THERE ROOM FOR FORGIVENESS: Is this what we need? Am I sure I’m willing to fight for this? Could all this phase just pass? Sometimes we are so entangled as a result of all the time and all that was put into the relationship, which we feel the need to hold steadfast and not let go.
Well, it takes two to build a strong relationship. Find out why there where mistakes in the first place, talk things out, this might not be easy as one party might appear more hurt than the other but if the decision and fire to go on is still radiant this might help. Speak your minds like it was your last day, tie up the loose ends, above all if you believe so much in what you have, why not give it all you’ve got.
Blossom Obi writes from Owerri, Imo State. For comments and responses, reach her via firstname.lastname@example.org