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 😉 

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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.

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.

The Unexpected Dalliance

What would I do if someone I was dating or married to, cheated? If we were dating, then it’s easy: I’d dump you faster than you could assemble the five letters your apology would begin with. With dating, it’s simpler because the two of you aren’t bound legally or spiritually. If they’re cheating when they have the option to leave, how are they to be trusted when the two of you are married? Dating is the nursery bed/seedbed where whatever is planted there is transferred when marriage comes and everything grows to bigger proportions.

If it was somebody I was married to, hmmm, now that becomes a little more complicated. Most people will simply tell you to pack your bags and run immediately, others would advise you to stay and work through it. Yes I am completely against divorce because I strongly believe marriage isn’t just something you walk into and out of at your pleasure; it’s a serious institution.

I personally would first interrogate and find out what it was exactly: a one-night stand or an affair. A one time sexual escapade is easier to deal with; not easy but slightly better compared to the rest. He wouldn’t just say sorry and be forgiven, no we’d involve our best couple (who would have been walking with us all through the years) and possibly, our spiritual authority. Basically people we could trust and those who had been married way longer than us and had the wisdom to handle such things. This is something that would require us talking and finding out why it happened and what next.

If it was a sexual affair, I would still go through the same process. This of course would be much more serious because he made the choice repeatedly. Anything sexual forms bonds, so getting over it would not be a walk in the Park. Sex for women creates much stronger bonds than it does for men.

The one that would worry me the most is the affair where there was no sexual activity but she had my husband’s emotions and mind. The kind where he couldn’t wait to see or talk to her. The type where their minds danced to a similar tune. Where her words had him captivated. The kind where his mind was drawn fully or to such a great extent that it was hard to get out. She who made him laugh. The one who had him excited. The one who he thought truly understood him. The one who listens when he talks about his problems. The one who helps him forget his troubles. The one who becomes his distraction. The one he’s not afraid to tell anything. The one with whom he can be himself. That is the one I would be worried about… and if that happened, then I do not know what I would do.

Clearly, it is true that none of these things are as easy as we think, until it happens to you. For now, I speculate and go with what my single mind thinks, if this ever occurs (and I hope not) then I hope something here will be of use.

Miss me

Miss me with your expectations. Yep. I probably won’t meet them.

You’ll find me quite a handful (and you’d need big hands for this), you’ll find me hard to understand at times and I’ll step on your toes oft enough. 

I took after my dad’s stubbornness. I like having my way. I talk a lot just as he does. I became more introverted like my mum when I grew up. I have moments where I want to be alone and don’t appreciate human interaction. I am a dreamer like my brother but not the best at implementation of those ideas. 

I am a weird combination of a perfectionist and a messy sanguine. So you’ll find neatly organised rooms one moment and the next, they will look like the aftermath of hurricane me. I love cooking for people but I don’t feel like it often. By now you’ve noticed discipline isn’t my forte.

Yes I grew up being daddy’s girl but somehow that didn’t insulate me from the daddy issues you’ll find still healing. If I got half the heart my dad has for people and the kind of love he’s shown me; then you’ll proud of me. My mum’s amazing intelligence wasn’t the only thing that was passed down; I learnt kindness, generosity and unbelievable patience. Not that I’m good at them but I’m learning. My brother’s ability to go after what he wants and his people skills also rub off on me. That young man inspires me in ways I can’t explain.

So yes, I’m work in progress. I don’t mind learning and accept growth. I joked the other day about how God forgot moderation when creating me. Everything about me is extreme; both the good and ugly. But rest in this: God’s got me. I’ve watched the way He’s moulding me and it’s encouraging. Oh you should know how in love I am with Him. He lavishes me with His own love!

Most of all, I acknowledge this: miss me with your expectations is a two-edged sword. This isn’t just for you but me as well. You’re who you are and perfect as you are. So when you come, I’ll lay my expectations on the altar and take you for who you are.

Tides

High and low,

They come and go.

 

Two steps forward,

Heavy feet dragged,

Three more steps covered,

Alas I see the light,

Tunnel’s edge comes to sight,

Freedom at last.

 

Liberty is beautiful,

Fresh air, clear skies,

Have you seen how the sun shines?

Without ’em shackles,

Everything looks brighter,

Life’s much greater.

 

Oh shucks!

Slowly it calls,

Gently it tugs,

I can feel it happen.

I run, I cry, I can’t hide.

 

I’m pulled back,

I can’t believe this,

I was free as a bird,

I felt the chains fall,

I was certain this was it.

 

Oh I loathe them,

The tides that allow me,

Forward to move,

Only to retract;

False sense of liberation.

 

I’m caught up,

In these tides,

All I can do,

Is for mercy beg,

Please let me go;

This time round,

Never to return.