Happy weekend guys!
How’s the first weekend in November looking? Remember to take some time to just rest.
I got nominated for the Liebster award a while back by my blogger-friends Courtney from 1 Timothy 4:12 Girl and Emily from Fearfully Wonderfully Me. These girls have helped my blog in so many ways. They are devout Christians who are unashamed to preach the word. And hey, Emily is amazing with fashion and Courtney is also a great fiction writer. Please check their blogs out. You’d never regret it! 😀 Thank you guys for this award. It’s absolutely humbling! I’m grateful to God for this privilege! Read the rest of this entry »
So I’m starting a new category called the Fiction Fridays and I hope to be posting fiction stories every Friday. This is intended to help me work more on my fictional writing skills as well keep you entertained! This doesn’t interrupt the usual Sunday posts though. Thanks for your support and encouragement as always! ❤ ❤
Here is today’s post!
I’m in a good place. Well, who wouldn’t be while taking in the breath after a fresh rain? I’m sitting in a yoga position, staring out of the window while listening to the birds chirp away. It’s still drizzling outside. I snuggle closer to Dex, my big fluffy bear.
I’m in a good place. This time it has nothing to do with the cozy weather or the weekend that is almost over. I’m in a good place in my heart. I don’t feel it beating as much as it used to when I see him or hear his name. Yesterday he got married. I was there. And I cried. Not because I was particularly happy for him. But because it would have been me. But it wasn’t.
I’m no longer sad. I know I played my cards wrongly. Well, when I make love a game, I lose. But when I don’t care, I get more than I bargain for.
I never liked them. Now I wonder if I’m just writing because the weather is beckoning to my artistic side like a groom beckons his bride? Is that why I always wanted to travel?
He sure wanted to make me his bride but that felt like clipping my wings. He didn’t want a wife who would scarcely be around. But I didn’t want to stay in either. I’m an explorer, call me Dora- or better still, Ford. As in Ford Explorer. The next car I intend to get before sojourning in Kenya.
Home doesn’t feel any different. If that’s what I can call this place. The place where it all began. Out on the cottage on a rainy day. He covered my hair with his shirt, while keeping me company as I waited for my mom who forgot to leave the keys out for me. We talked, we laughed, and we loved. Or so I thought.
I’ve never really gotten the concept of love. One minute you’re in love. The next, you hate them. I mean, isn’t there middle grounds somehow? Or is it all lust? Well, in that case, I lusted after his intellect, got teased by his wit and dived into his mind’s depth. It was never about the physicals-don’t get me wrong, he was good looking. But that wasn’t the main attraction.
We connected. Like a phone to a familiar WiFi. Once I had the password, I never had to retype it. We automatically synchronized. Now I sound as though I’m not over him. But I am! Lies I tell myself.
The tea kettle is whistling in the kitchen. I need to go get a napkin before I get burnt-again. Reminds me of that fateful winter night in Roehampton. We were both reading for our examinations. I was cold and needed some tea. I picked the kettle without a napkin and got burnt. Stupid me! He smiled while treating the injury with some items from the first aid box. His medical degree always came in handy as I was accident prone. Call me clumsy. As in one of the smurfs.
What am I doing? Going round in circles as I always do. Circled round Africa the last year and lost my love in the process. Only saw him on the weekends. Half of which he was working. It’s no surprise he married his colleague. I don’t really care about that. I guess.
7 years down the drain. But I’m good. Flushed the memory. I’m fine.
I wish him a happy life with whatever her name is. I’ll move on. Besides I’ve got two tickets to Greece. One was for him. But it’s okay. There’ll always be another one. This story isn’t over.
©Mfon Etuk, 2016