Becoming My Own Sun (Guest Post)

Today’s post comes from someone I love in ways I can’t even express! Someone who probably knows all my secrets and walks me through the mess that’s mostly my life.

And boy can this lady write!!! I’m not even being biased here; her pieces are intimidatingly beautiful. I read this particular one and I’m yet to recover. Trying to collect the pieces of my heart while hoping that these tears I shed will somehow be the glue to patch me back together.

Savour this one, you’ll absolutely love it!

BECOMING MY OWN SUN

Dear Hez,

I love you.
God I love you.
I love the way you make me laugh, at the most stupid things, in the most inappropriate of times. Or the vibes we share when around other people who cannot see through it. And have whole communications without words.

Or when in the middle of me laughing, I will stop and catch your stare. Serious, and warm. But definitely a stare. Like you just chanced upon a masterpiece.
I love how we will have built conversations from the most mundane of things. And how you notice the smallest of details. Like how a conversation made me uncomfortable, and you take time to get back to it and see what you could have done differently.

I love how you kiss me. As if nothing else, nothing else matters. And you affirm me and tell me I am beautiful. That you are lucky to have me. And how you, tender and caring, want to know, every second minute whether I’m fine.
As if you will change the weather to suit my wants, but you still ask. I totally dig that about you.
I love how you take care of things. Make sure everybody is fine, that they are home safe, especially when you don’t have to.
I love staying with you, anywhere. You almost always feel like home.

Then we have had pain. Even in the midst of all these stars in our path.
The first time you stabbed me was that September in 2011. I had just left my other relationship and was finally ready to date you. And when we talked the night I knew I was ready, I did not see the pain lunging towards me. You said you were concerned, that I was going to cheat on you. Because I had just left my relationship and had been crazy about the ex.

I remember I was in a new bed in a new campus, in our new house. I muffled my sobs because I didn’t want to wake my new roommate up. And I had hung up. Every word had felt like this sword you were driving into me, into my heart. You had never had me hung up on you and it made you get upset. I didn’t want you to hear me cry, my dignity was already mopping the floor.

Then after I hung up I had cried. I cried so hard that night. I wondered how someone who knew me so well would be so mistaken about me. And I wondered whether now that I was available I had become less attractive, another person’s old toy you did not want part of. And I didn’t want to talk to you again after that. It hurt too much. Our relationship became stilted after that, we talked, but it was once in a while. And we took some time.

Three years later, in 2014, after I had finished school, come to Nairobi, we started off again. This time there was less drama. And we were at different places in life. I was starting my career while you were clearing school. We had a thing. You would come over, I would cook. We would have a good time, and we would talk, endlessly, watch movies. We hung out with mutual friends. No one knew a thing about what was happening between us.

Then one day, I asked that you commit to a relationship. And you jumped ship. You couldn’t do it, you said. It wasn’t the right time. There was too much going on. And this time, I didn’t want to stick around and start rebuilding my heart again. So I asked that we break the situationship off. And we did not really speak for a while. Till January of 2015. Here you said, that you had been seeing other people this while. And I remember being awake as you slept, wondering what it is about me that said, I could be treated that way.

Now you are back, again, three years later. You have a bag full of apologies.
You say you miss your friend, that you realised we had a good thing going. That nobody gets you encouraged like I do. You speak about caring for me, being my man.

But you don’t want hard conversations.
Whenever I bring up your history of hurting me, you say, can’t I see the apologies you have made? And you ask why I want you to walk on eggshells.
And now we are here, fighting. Fighting too much to even talk through things.

And now you cannot talk to me. Because you have clumped up. You are convinced somehow, that I am not a big enough person to forgive you. And I am tired of this whole shebang.
And all the fighting we are doing, it doesn’t help me or you. It all hurts me and you too.

You are here, and just like always, you don’t know what you want this time as well.
I guess to you I am a thrill of a chase. Then when the chase dies down, so does your appetite. Someone to keep you happy, sometimes warm your bed, take care of you as you figure things out.

And now that I am tired of being that for you, a high, a temporary place holder as you chase more tail, you don’t want to talk anymore. You I intend to keep punishing you for things you have already said you are sorry for. Because sorry is a sap that should stitch back together the trust issues you have so intricately created.

As if I should by a magic wand, let all the hurt you have caused fly away, and give you clean slates for which to pour your still undecided self. As if I haven’t nursed wounds from you for months on end. Waking up to oil the wounds, keeping them from the sun, crying in silence at night while they bleed.
I am tired.
I am sorry.
I forgave you. I did.
Take the pain and shove it, you say.
Forgive me because see, I am very sorry.

But the reason I’m sorry, is because I I’m not that girl anymore.
It’s not enough anymore for you to come in and leave my life as you please.
It’s not okay to be the one receiving bread crumbs, the girl you have a life with but don’t introduce as yours. The girl you are okay telling she means the world as long as the world doesn’t know.
I’m sorry.

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My Five Stages

They say there are 5 stages of grief; well I’ve lived through each with you. Bliss didn’t stay because you chose to walk away. All I was left with were these 5 steps which I have finally found a way to express adequately… good old music. I guess it’s true what they say: there’s a song for everything you feel. 

1. Denial
Now and then I think of when we were together. Like when you said you felt so happy you could die. Told myself that you were right for me…


(Somebody that I used to know- Gotye)

I had terribly enjoyed each moment with you. Spending time with you made me happy and I’d be in awe of the person I kept discovering.  Maybe all that glitters truly isn’t gold because that happiness would fade soon after you left. I always came up with reasons and excuses as to why your silence kept growing. Eventually, I ran out of them. I still tried to justify everything because I didn’t want to believe the alternative.

2. Anger

I know I can’t take one more step towards you, ’cause all that’s waiting is regret. And it took so long just to feel alright, remember how to put back the light in my eyes. I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed, ‘Cause you broke all your promises… You don’t get to get me back

(Jar of hearts- Christina Perry)

Oh I was pissed when I realised that there was no reasonable explanation for your silence. No, you don’t get to treat me like that, is what I said. I even wrote a quote for it: 

“You don’t just get to discard me when you please and pick me again at your convenience.”

And like Christina sings, yes, you don’t get to get me back.

3. Bargaining

Say something, I’m giving up on you. I’ll be the one if you want me to. Anywhere I would’ve followed you. Say something, I’m giving up on you

(A Great Big World – Say Something Lyrics)

Then I’d remember why I really liked you and I’d want to try salvage the situation. I’d decide to be the better person and reach out. Basically, anything to get back to conversations like we used to have and to take things back to those beautiful moments.

4. Depression
 
Don’t leave me in all this pain. Don’t leave me out in the rain. Come back and bring back my smile. Come and take these tears away. I need your arms to hold me now. The nights are so unkind. Bring back those nights when I held you beside me. Un-break my heart, Say you’ll love me again. Undo this hurt you caused, When you walked out the door, And walked out of my life. Un-cry these tears, I cried so many nights. Un-break my heart

(Toni Braxton- Unbreak My heart)

Oh the pain! The number of times I’d reminisce and want to cry. Tears were elusive but that pain was tangible. I began asking myself if you changed your mind or maybe you lied right from the start. I couldn’t reconcile the promises you made and affections you showed, with how you were acting. It would hurt if you changed your mind but it would break me more if I discovered you were lying all along because that’s not the kind of person you’d be. Maybe I’m just not as good a judge of character as I assume.

5. Acceptance

But you didn’t have to cut me off, Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing… But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough, but I don’t wanna live that way, reading into every word you say…

(Somebody that I used to know- Gotye)

You made me want you You made me leave you. You made me tumble and fall. But if I Can’t have you the way I want you, I don’t want you at all. Baby, I can take a lot Cause I love Everything you got… so if you got Someone else I gotta go. Oh, that you know. Yeah that’s it honey I quit I’m movin’ on…

(Adele – That’s it, I quit, I’m movin’ on (Sam Cooke) )

Yes I wish things were different. I wished that you wouldn’t have cut me off. But I can’t keep putting up with frequent silence. Yes I still think you are amazing and that you’re one person who I’d do forever after with. But despite the fact that you hold probably 80% of what I desire, that 20% missing includes communication, which for me is practically everything. 
So yes, if I can’t have you the way I want you then I don’t want you at all. Yeah that’s it honey, I quit I’m movin’ on. 


PS: I know we have plenty of Christian love songs; but y’all don’t do break up songs?? I need options people 😉 

All… Most… Almost

It’s amazing how easy it is to know these days. One or two interactions and it’s easy to know if someone is what I’d want or not. Two or three interactions and my eyes opened to the fact that you were all I’d been searching for. 

I’m yet to understand how one person can be the culmination of everything I dreamt of. How similar thought patterns can be. How things that made me peculiar were perfectly normal with you. How experiences I went through shaped me to be a person who easily blends with the person you are. How every bit of what I saw as imperfection were the very strokes the Master used to create a masterpiece you loved. 

Well, loved, is my assumption based on your words and actions. In actual sense, you uttered those 3 magical words that hearts worldwide dance to. My own heart fluttered when I heard them. I think it even stopped for a moment. I was scared at that moment. Maybe scared blows up the magnitude of what I truly felt. But yes, I didn’t know what to say; afraid I wouldn’t fully mean it if I said those words to you. 

Love is sacred and it’s a huge responsibility; it’s not something I take lightly. It felt like a beautiful privilege to be the object of your affections in that manner… but I didn’t want to make cheap promises. I’d want to give you everything that love comes with.

Love is a choice and commitment. You said it yourself. And yes I recall that too clearly because those words captivated me as you expressed them. See a girl like me, strongly believes in the same. I wouldn’t hesitate even the slightest bit, to utter those three magical words if I was certain of commitment. 

But my all, turned out to be my most. I came alive to the fact that like most of us, you aren’t perfect (and shouldn’t be). You ticked most of the boxes, just not all. I am okay with that. I had no problem dealing with any shortcomings. I get how cocoons are easy to get used to. 

Well, that was until I grew tired of having to come up with excuses. Unreplied messages were simply because of endless meetings. Missed calls that were never returned was because you’d get home exhausted. Those “seen” messages on social media must have come when you were distracted… I’d keep seeing you active/online and ran out of excuses to explain away the reason my messages and calls remained ignored. 

My heart became black and blue; taking too many hits because I cared too much. Anxiety became a companion that kept showing up since I wasn’t sure if you were safe or okay. 

However, these wounds became too many. I couldn’t take anymore pain. Yes the choice to shut that door equally hurt, but I had to choose me this time. Maybe because I’ve been there a few times and this started looking a little familiar. My heart was afraid I couldn’t survive such pain; I can’t go through that again.

Magical words devoid of matching actions are simply ashes. They are evidence of a fire that once blazed but now they’re nothing. Just empty words… particles being blown away and scattered by this wind blowing; the wind of change. 

You were the one I almost had.

Dear Chocolate Fudge Cake Lover

I must admit, doing anything productive in the office today has been near impossible. Anytime I try to concentrate for long enough, my mind finds itself wandering…again. The unknown causes such anxiety, maybe they should have had live updates being given straight from that theatre to calm those of us waiting eagerly.

I’ve been trying to think of what it’s like for you and I can’t even imagine. You’ve been through enough already. I don’t know what manner of thoughts you’d require to keep yourself distracted while lying on that table. Let me just say that your strength is admirable; whether you’re well aware of it or not.

I know the only promises I could make included the chocolate fudge cake and a nice home-cooked meal someday but I have made a lot more to God, trust me. I have begged, pleaded and even made outright demands; whatever it took to ensure you’d get out fine and have a much faster recovery. Basically, I have prayed until I am out of words. I sincerely haven’t had conversations with God about anyone my entire life as much as I’ve had concerning you. Yes ever since you broke the news and long before that.

I am just one out of countless people who are busy praying and waiting; all vouching for you. Your family is probably bearing the heaviest part of this and the people who love you. You are surrounded by so much love, I hope this acted as all the evidence you ever needed.

By the time you get to read this, you’ll probably be out of hospital and life will have moved on a little. I don’t know what it’s like to have gone through what you did and I will never attempt to make any assumptions. But one thing I suspect is that those physical scars are not the only scars you’ll be carrying.

Allow yourself to go through all the motions. It’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone and that means your healing is yours to walk through and your journey shouldn’t be rushed by anyone including yourself. It’s okay to accept help and to allow people to lavish you with love, attention and affection; their intentions shouldn’t worry you much. It’s also perfectly fine to celebrate small steps. There are things you used to do effortlessly but now are quite a task; allow yourself to celebrate each progress even when it feels like it’s not noteworthy. Slow down a little and get to enjoy each seemingly ordinary moment in life.

There’s so much more to say but I’m a bunch of nerves and the knots in my tummy are tying my words as well. See you soon, hopefully by then all this worrying would have subsided and I’ll talk better.

Do get better soon.

With lots of care & concern,

Me

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

It was a gloomy day which perfectly befitted the moment because we were going to bury someone dearly beloved. I was wearing the black dress I bought (whose length I’d immediately had reduced, Lol) and a new purple trench coat. Along the way some car got stuck in the mud or something but all I remember was that the funeral concession stopped and we had a chance to interact with people. I saw him. Heart almost stopped.

Of course he’d be here, this wasn’t something he’d missed. I think I was beginning to like him a lot more than I’d cared to admit. We talked briefly and you can bet my heart did a few of those flip flops. That didn’t last for long, soon we were back to our cars. I seem to briefly recollect introducing him to my parents; he must have been in the company of my cousins because I’d be committing suicide if I had dared to bring him over alone.

Eventually we get to the burial site. It was still cloudy and quite cold. I had done enough crying for several days so by this time, I was far stronger. I don’t like crying in public, so any emotions were shoved aside; all except one.

He was mostly right at the front taking photos alongside many others, but of course my attention was solely pegged on him. I had people to talk to and followed proceedings so it would sober me for a while before I’d steal a glance and be adequately distracted. I looked around me and noticed there was a bevy of beauties everywhere my eyes could see. Sigh, who was I kidding? A guy like him drew too much attention and there was no way I’d get his.

This crazy fog set in just as the family was heading to the grave site. People started rushing to their cars and choppers because the diminished visibility would be an issue. I had to go find my parents because I was to travel back to the city that same day.

He found me before I could trace my parents. He tells me to wait because he was trying to see if he could get me a vehicle going straight back. I’m guessing he planned to travel with me. Oh a girl had to be flattered by that display of chivalry! Unfortunately, he didn’t succeed but told me that whoever arrived first would wait for the other. I got there first.

I waited for forever! He kept apologising and I understood because he was at someone else’s mercy. After what seemed like hours (well less than an hour) he got there and ice cream followed. Long story short, he took me back to our hostels and stayed for a while to talk. Being the gentleman he is, he handed over the ice cream he bought for himself when my friends got there (yes, I love my friends tremendously but no, I don’t love them enough to share my ice cream).

Of course he’s always been a gentleman of sorts. From the first time we met, I noticed that chivalry. I was fascinated by his vast knowledge and travels. I love people who are well read or travelled. We got along quite well and I loved those conversations. He once got me a very beautiful yet simple bracelet in my favourite colour. I was swooned!

This story doesn’t have a happy ending and it’s worse because it was my fault. Oh goodness, I liked the guy! But then that whole faith thing came up and my unequally yoked lessons wouldn’t give me peace. I’d noticed how much he liked me but I had to kill it. So I withdrew and cut off communication. That was cruel and it hurt me badly, but I had to do it because if I allowed it to go on longer, the heartbreak would have been very ugly!

Rejection

It is almost impossible not to think about this word because my world right now is flooded by reminders. Rejection. One word, innumerable effects.

My devotion this morning had me reflecting on things that wounded me emotionally. This drew up quite a number of memories. Last night, the same thing happened and I found myself asking God to have any of the bits of my heart that were still hurt. From friendships that ended and left with chunks of my heart to guys who whether dating or not, left with bits of my soul. From disappointments and anticipointments, to moments that were beautifully high but left me broken the minute things crumbled.

The other trigger was a TED talk I watched on 100 days of rejection that encouraged those of us who’ve felt the sting of rejection enough to make us hide in our cocoon, to expose ourselves to that very feeling. The point wasn’t to get you wounded further or get you hooked to pain. The activity is premised on the fact that the more you expose yourself to rejection, the less it hurts and eventually, you become immune to it. I won’t lie, this sounded exciting; I mean, who wouldn’t want to be immune to rejection? I considered trying it for 30 days and each day I would go request something that I knew would be outrightly rejected (maybe asking for a raise from my boss should have been my starting point, Lol).

When I thought about it, I agreed with several of the things stated on that talk. Most of us fear rejection because of our perceived reaction by the person bound to reject us. We come up with all sorts of reasons why we were rejected: I wasn’t good enough, she’d never accept a guy like me, I am not his type, I am not good enough for this position, they don’t usually consider people like me, it’s because of my background… and on and on we’ll go. However, we’ll never know unless we ask. The guy giving the talk one day knocked on a random door and asked to go plant a flower in the person’s backyard. Of course his offer was rejected and he had all sorts of ideas as to why plus had begun beating himself up for this. Then he decided to ask the person why he refused his offer and turns out he had a dog that uproots things in the backyard so he didn’t want to waste the guy’s flower but he referred him to a lady who loved flowers. Not surprising, the lady was ecstatic about his offer and accepted.

This morning, one of the first things that met me on Facebook was an article shared explaining how guys break the hearts of girls even when they were not dating. This I easily relate with! From my own experiences and those of my friends; in fact if I had a dime for each time this occurred, I’d be a pretty rich woman right now! All the friendships where the guy was sweet, always listening, always there for you, crosses oceans for you, is your go-to guy for everything, always telling you how beautiful you are, willingly stating how much you are missed every so often and practically acting like a boyfriend without the title. Then you fall for him only to realise it wasn’t mutual or discover he started dating some other girl. Rejection stares at you with its big ugly eyes again.

It’s never a funny thing to hope and miss; to put your best effort and be met with a no; to invest so much only for things to fail; to try even against all hope and still be disappointment. It kills something inside of you each time and you either end up shut tightly away from anything threatening or masking your wounds and constantly portraying a picture perfect you. None of that helps and eventually you’ll see that healing is necessary.

Healing starts with exposing your wounds bit by bit, by choosing to step out and try again even when you’re scared. Most of all the ultimate remedy lies with the Maker of our hearts. He knows exactly how that wound came, what shape it took and how to heal it effectively. He breathes onto those wounds, pours out His liquid love to wash them and holds us gently until we’re well.

My Goodbye (again)

Staring at the phone and part of me wants to enjoy the conversation but the other part of me knows I’ve been here one too many times. It’s not like it will end any better. I’ll be excited for some time; of course conversations with you are worth having, but at what price will I keep doing this? I’m done.

I know I said that last time. Said it yesterday when I was telling myself I’m done for good. Said it every time I deleted your number. Goodness, I even lost count of the number of times I deleted that number of yours! Erased too many messages; wiped off any evidence of conversations with you. Even call logs so that I wouldn’t retrieve your number when I got tempted to call.

Then all it would take is one phone call or a single message. Excitement would flood in at the thought of meaningful conversation. I’d tell myself that I’d actually missed talking to you. Well, of course conversation has always been my Achilles’ heel. Words somehow get to me easily. I should have known better. Come to think of it; hasn’t that been the genesis of every situationship I can remember?

But this time round, I’m determined to walk away. My heart won’t like it but I know what’s best for it and this isn’t. I can’t keep setting myself up for disappointment. Can’t allow my heart to take any more punches. It doesn’t matter what this is; my emotions are done with the roller-coaster rides. I can’t keep enjoying the thrill of taking my heart out on the cliff hoping to fly only to crash into the valley. I can’t deal with anticipointment one more time.

Don’t worry, this isn’t your fault; well maybe like 25%. This was me staring at a fire and being overly confident thinking the flames wouldn’t touch me. This was me on one one of those thrill seeking adventures and venturing further than I ought to. This was me having seen warning signs but trying to see how far I’d go before getting caught. I saw you taking measures to stop me from harming myself. I saw you sober and avoiding anything that would encourage me. I saw your wisdom in trying to not do or say things that would give me wrong impressions; false hopes. I saw all that but I think I was addicted to pain and had missed that high.

We all grow up at some point. We all have our breaking points. We all know when enough is enough. This is where I am. Ready to give up instant gratification and cheap thrills. Ready to move to places where I’ll be appreciated and loved. Ready to trade my brokenness for wholeness no matter how much pain that will inflict initially. Ready to surrender expectations and dreams for reality.

This is me saying goodbye again; and hopefully never to return.