This time I did not bleed
I cut myself and my blood remained still
It would not flow for you
It refused
So I stayed with a dull aching pain
Slowly fading
Even my tears refused to flow for you
I tore myself apart
But they would not come
Your pain,
Has overstayed its welcome
Here, take it back
I have no more need for it
No more need for you
Darling
I am done bleeding
“Don’t smile so much” she said, screwing her face in disgust. “You look funny.”
“Well… I like how I am, I like how I smile… if you don’t like it don’t look” I shot back.
Heat spread from my neck, all over my face and got trapped in my hair, I was so embarrassed I wanted to die.
I’m 32 years old now, I don’t smile in photos, and whenever smile with people I find myself wondering… do I disgust them with my gummy smile. I was 15 back then, it was never mentioned to me before or after…. Yet it has haunted me since. It only took a few seconds…
“Did you continue with your passion? ” she asked, her smile shining brightly against the setting sun’s rays peeking through the leaves.
Her brown eyes shone beautifully.
“What passion?” I returned, puzzled.
“Art, remember? You used to draw a lot at school” she said, looking at me as if she couldn’t believe my question.
“Oh that, agh man I was never any good with that” I laughed, nostalgia settling upon me. I remembered back when my classmates used to ask me to draw on their self made cards to their friends and boyfriends.
“Where and when did you lose yourself? ” she asked peering into my eyes. I wanted to step back at this sudden invasion of privacy. Suddenly, it was 16 years ago, she, in her house t-shirt and school track pants. looking at me the exact same way she was now. She always wanted to get to the bottom of the issue.
” I only said I was never any good” I laughed.
“Is that how you lost yourself?” she asked again, more serious this time.
I wanted to ask what she was talking about, but I had no clever come back, my wit gave way to honesty… I knew all to well what she meant, but how did she know?.
“Maybe if you picked up that pencil, that you abandoned so long ago, you might find yourself again” she advised, walking on ahead. “The world will be alright again” she said quietly, but I heard her very clearly.
A somber mood was settling between us.
” I only drew half faces” I said, intending a joke.
“Do this for yourself” she returned, her eyes dancing, “buy your artillery and start drawing again.”
Maybe she has a point…
I thought I knew sorrow,
I thought she and I were bossom buddies
I thought she had become familiar
But I was wrong
Sorrow turned on me today
She very nearly killed me
She would not let me breathe.
She took me into a place so dark
So dark I can never find my way back.
Sorrow took me to new depths
And made no promise of tomorrow
Perhaps it is better this way
Tomorrow’s strength has eluded me
And taking each breath a chore.
She took all my strength
Made lying down an exercise
Sorrow resided in my mind
In my heart, and my soul
It grew weary
I wanted to sigh,
Sigh so hard that if my breath left
It would never return.
I have been dreading getting to this part. It makes my tummy ache, and I feel ill. It’s amazing how my tummy reacts to my emotions, it’s almost as if that’s where they materialize.
I have mostly skipped the fights we had, they were not many and I don’t like the way I feel when I think of them.
The turmoil I go through every time I am in a relationship is what has kept me single for a very long time. I don’t flirt and I don’t do flings because I am too sensitive for all that nonsense.
The first fight we had was about the lost text, I mentioned that one already. Then he didn’t like the fact that I use “what” regularly. He said I had no manners and was being rude. Then we had a a misunderstanding about a porn video he sent me which I refused to watch.
My punishment? My punishment was that he would give me the silent treatment until he thought i’d learnt my lesson. I would spend hours feeling miserable, staring at my phone, hoping against hope. Wishing the heavens down, that he would talk to me, even if he was cursing me out… anything!
I wanted so badly for us to work that I ignored the little red flags, a horrible habit of mine I must add.
They say if you want something, you must ask for it, right? So I began to ask….
“OK, will you chat with me when you get home or not?” If I were any more nervous, I would have melted into the disappearing dusk.
“We’ll chat while am waiting for the bus” came the reply.
I wasn’t going to stop here.
“Why not when you get home?” no reply
“??”….. quiet.
“Is there something you are not telling me, Gatiep?” I needed an answer and it wasn’t coming fast enough.
“I didn’t mean it that way” came the reply,
“And by the way, why are you attacking me?”
” I am not attacking you” I retorted.
“Jrrrrrrrr man no” he replied, betraying his frustration.
“There are things I need to know, like why you won’t chat to me when you get home or on weekends, maybe you have a wife/partner” I breathed, I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath for so long, probably throughout this entire fling!
” I need to know these things so I know where I stand, so I won’t bother you” I went on.
I waited….
” we’ll talk tomorrow”….
That night, we chatted a bit when he got home. I even got an “I love ja” from him. I slept with a smile on my face, dreaming of tomorrow.
05:53 am.
“Morning, I am on my way” he texted.
I couldn’t wait! I got ready, and left for the rank.
“Where r u?” I enquired when I got there.
“Sorry babe, I am gonna be late, I forgot something at home. I had to turn around it’s best you leave without me” …..My heart sank my tummy felt like a ton of cement had been deposited in it. I knew it…. somewhere at the back of mind I knew this conversation was never going to happen. I was angry. I did not reply. The journey was long and lonely.
“Are you cross with me babycakes?” I could almost hear his voice in that text.
“Yes I am” I replied
“Y?” He asked.
” because you lie to me all the damn time, and when you lie to me it shows that you don’t respect me, and you think I am too stupid to notice” I vented, my heart felt like it was going to explode.
“When did I lie to you?”
I ignored him. A couple of hrs passed. I didn’t know how to reply. Then my phone buzzed, I knew it was him. I wasn’t prepared for this text….
“To start a relationship in this manner is not healthy so I think it’s best if we stay friends it will be hard but I will get over u sorry for lying to as u say and I apologise for hurting u am sorry ”
I was stunned, then angry, then relieved. I hadn’t expected it to be over so soon, I didn’t see it coming and finally the roller coaster ride of emotions was over. It was over. Now I had to get over him, not a simple process, but one I was familiar with and had even made friends with.
So at 08:45 am that Friday, the end happened.
My hope frustrates me.
It holds me down, never letting me go.
My hope hurts me,
And without cause.
Why can’t I ever kill it?
Murder it senselessly,
Bludgeon it beyond recognition.
Burn it to ashes and let it go with the wind.
Even buried beneath deep, rotting, festering wounds.
It will raise it’s head,
Like a beacon in the sea.
Bringing along a little glimmer,
A little sliver of sunshine.
Letting you know, that tomorrow is possible.
Even if you shut your heart to it.
Tomorrow will still be waiting.
And you will survive.
Because hope will not let you forget.
Hope will never leave you behind.
We get to know each other over the next few days, he still gives me a peck on my cheek every time he gets off. He makes me laugh till I almost snort. The mornings are not the same anymore, they are brighter and I am looking forward to waking up just to see him. His lips look more inviting by the minute, but I am trying to hold out for the week to end.
I wish he would ask me out on a date outside of the taxi, even McDonalds will do. Friday comes, I mistakenly send him a text that is meant for my friend and he gets mad. He won’t talk to me the whole weekend and I am miserable. I finally get him to text me on Sunday. I can’t wait for Monday….
As I am getting ready, a text comes through ” morning”
“Morning” I reply.
“Are we going together?” I am surprised he even asked!
“Of course” I reply
I quickly pick my bag and leave for the rank. When I get there, he is waiting, my weekend misery dissipates like morning dew under the sun’s gaze. We soon find the Gateway taxi and get in. The journey is too short and it’s time for him to get off. He gives me the usual peck, “I know you don’t want to mess up your lipstick” he says in my ear. He stands up, I quickly say ” if you want my lipstick so badly, come get it!”
I blush when people turn, I didn’t realise I was half shouting. He turns around and gives me a peck on my lips, I want more, but he already on his way out. I look at him as he walks away, soon as he crosses the road he stops, turns and stares at me…..oh the butterflies in my tummy!
The next day he gives me a couple more pecks on my lips. I am really trying to hold back, but I am dying to be properly kissed. He is not going to work on Thursday and Friday, and still he hasn’t asked me out on a date. I am beginning to get frustrated. The weekend is quiet, not even a “hi” from him. I sleep through the weekend. Depressed. I can’t wait for Monday.
“Morning, I am running a little late plz wait for me” reads the text. I look at it and ignore. I go back to the mirror, perfecting my makeup.
As I am about to leave I reply “morning” “where are you?”
“In Brixton, but the driver is fast”
“But that’s still a good 15 minutes away!” I say and my heart sinks, I might have to leave him.
“Ok” comes the reply, heee madoda!
“I’ll wait till 6:40, if you are not here by then i’m leaving” I concede.
“Ek’s nou dar babe, 5 mins”
When I see him come round the corner in a rush I am relieved and joy surges, from my toes, through to my head. We quickly get into the taxi, the back seat is my choice this time. I know i’ll be pressed up against him and I want that. I want to feel his warmth and smell his cologne.
We chat, I can’t remember what about, .
“Why are you staring at my lips?” He smiles, bringing me back to the present.
“Uh…” I am lost, I smile back my mind working fast “I read lips?” I say, more of a question that an answer.
He laughs unconvinced, I look away, embarrassed. His hand is around my shoulders and he nudges my chin. I look at him, he kisses me…..lightly. He takes my breath away, my tummy knots and I melt. I lean in for a deeper kiss, forgetting about the general public in the taxi. There must be magnets in our lips, because every time we stop, our lips are mysteriously drawn back into a passionate dance. I sigh into his mouth and a moan escapes my throat.
I pull back, remembering that we are, after all in a taxi, squashed up together with two other guys. I look out the window and heart sinks, when I realise he is about to get off.
I want more, but not like this….
I say…
Please God, don’t do this to me
As if he is actively stabbing my heart
As if he is actively tearing my soul to shreds.
I ask God to please let this happen,
As if he is actively standing in the way.
I ask God to please give me peace and love
As if he actively withholding them from me.
I ask God to please make this go away
As if he actively unleashed all the pain in my life.
I ask God to please love me,
As if he ever stopped
I ask God…
Image By Oleg Duryagin
Paint me a picture
Of sorrow’s true form
She favors me a bit you know
Draw me a picture
Of her scars on my heart
Will the pain flow from her eyes
Will her garb be appreciated
She’s clothed in my blood you know
Bejeweled in my tears.
Paint me a picture of her
Fading me into darkness
My memories
Hold her figure together you know
The perfect figure eight.
Will you paint the sandals on her feet
You see,
They are made from my heart.
And every time she moves
You must know how it feels
Draw me a picture
Of her beautiful hands
Gloved in thorns
Wrapped around my neck
Her arms cradle my soul.
If I asked you my love,
Would you paint me a picture?
Apples and Kinks 