I saw him again after 5 years… 5 long years.
I was very much astounded by his appearance I did not even see him hug me, neither did I hear him when he kept blubbering about how much he had missed me and was looking all over for me.
5 excruciatingly painful years; I just could not believe it.
I recall when we first met. He made me laugh so hard my insides hurt with the least comment. He had an amazing smile and such beautiful eyes that held so much depth you could see your very soul in them.
He was there to pick me up from home and carry my bag to work. He was available to feed me when I was sick and even clean my vomit when I could not handle myself. He carried me at my weakest and encouraged me at my strongest moments. He knew the exact answers I wanted to every question and even those yet to be asked. He laughed at my weirdest jokes and called them funny. To him, I looked beautiful when I stepped out in my shabbiest clothes and even my morning breath was like the dew of heaven; ha! Such a sweet talker.
Five years… 5 solid years I was never able to move on.
I figured maybe, just maybe, he will wake from the folly of his youthful years and come to see the light of day. I imagined he would be ready to say he was sorry for all the wrong done and was ready to be serious. I guess I was rather the one who refused to stop being foolish. He said he was not sure when he would be ready but I thought 5 years would be enough. Oh was I wrong!
5 agonizing years; those kibitzers were there to taunt me every single day of my life! Like Auntie Maanu the women’s fellowship president who told me to “give him pressure to say something” then Hajia Halima, my mother’s friend who would come and say to her, “tell your daughter to ask him to marry her if he won’t do it. After all women are proposing to men in foreign countries.” Oh how much I suffered in the hands of my maternal uncle, Kofi, who constantly reminded me, “Do you want to become an old hag; alone and miserable? You need a man to keep you warm, give you shelter and to make you feel complete.”
All he needed was 5 years…
Five good years to play the same trick on 5 different naive girls like me. Five years to hurt them and break them and say to them he was not ready. I waited for five years. I sat and agonised for five years. I lost my worth and esteem for five years all in the name of waiting for him to be ready. What did he know?
Probably it is my fault. I wanted to tie the knot so early, I scared him off. Maybe he is currently putting things together to return but perchance by then, I may have disregarded him and left only to find out 5 years later that all he planned and worked for is fruitful and all those fruits were meant for my enjoyment?
I have but just a grievance. Why would a gentleman come to a lady and shower her with all the attention and care, never making his true intentions known, driving all possible suitors away. Then, in the long run she finds out all he ever wanted was friendship! Why would you cower around her and push everyone else off. That hurts; a lot!
Maybe I do not need 5 years anymore.
Maybe all I need is a year or less of it, maybe even more than five years. All I need is to get myself together and move on. I must use the pain he caused as stepping stones to rise up higher.
As for him, I doubt he will ever be ready. He will never be ready. He will remain the way he is till he probably has achieved everything he wants in life. By then I would have stopped feeling sorry for myself and moved on. All I know is, it may be one or five or ten years, but either ways, at that time I would say, I AM better and I HAVE moved on.