Letting Go…

Opinion

Love found me late last year, when I wasn’t even looking and when I least expected. It happened so fast and it was amazing.

Then, it ended the same way it started; with me not looking and when I least expected.

You know that feeling of running out of water when you’re halfway to quenching your thirst? Yeah, that was me for about six months. It sorta still is…

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I haven’t written in a while and I spoke to my dear friend Cavey who subsequently posted an article that reminded me of the old naked convos. You know, where people came to bare thoughts without the fear of being judged.

Love found me late last year, when I wasn’t even looking and when I least expected. It happened so fast and it was amazing.

Then, it ended the same way it started; with me not looking and when I least expected.

You know that feeling of running out of water when you’re halfway to quenching your thirst? Yeah, that was me for about six months. It sorta still is…

But, something’s different now.

Now, I’m trying to let go, so I wrote a letter to facilitate healing.

Also, in the spirit of the old TNC flame/plea, being re-ignited/petitioned through @cavey’s article, maybe you guys can help me to(o)?

“Stop looking for the perfect words and express whatever you want to share in as many raw emotions as you want to induce.” – Timilehin Osinowo

I

Dear H,

Everything seems so much better when given a pen and paper, or in this case, a laptop. I’ve tried calling and texting, but they don’t seem to be working. So, I’m sending a mail, hoping, but not expecting to make a difference because: “the thing about expectations…”

In the beginning, we were friends.
For the first time in quite a while, I’ve thought long and hard about how it happened but I can’t seem to put together the exact sequence of events.
However, two things remain vivid: Game of Thrones and ACV.
So random, but yet, here we are right?

Along the line, there was an attraction.
I fought mine so hard, telling myself that it wasn’t right. So many things seemed off. I thought with my head for the most of it, refusing to let my emotions be the captain of the ship in the sea of my life. Still, you stuck around and gave me reasons not to.

You eventually came home to me and it was an amazing Christmas. You brought with you a proper bald head, a single strand of white lash on your left eye, some on your beards and your favorite pair of jeans.
That was all it took for me to fall in love with you.

Then, we had a fight.

We had a fight and I lashed out, I let my emotions – those same emotions that I was wary of – take over.

We didn’t fix it. Mostly, because I couldn’t see through the pain I was nursing. Partly because we are stubborn, I guess.

Regardless, by the time I realized just how much I had hurt you, you had already made a decision.

II

Dear H,

There are five stages of grief.

Denial.
I refused to believe that we were done. It seemed so unreal. I blocked out the words and facts and channeled all my energy into my exams.
“My babe is stressed out”, I would say to myself.
“He needs some space, he’s going through a lot. He needs a while, he’s under a ton of pressure.”
I needed to believe something, anything other than the end of us.Anger.
Exams were over and the masking effects of my denial began to wean. My pain re-surfaced and I wasn’t ready. I refused to be vulnerable, so I redirected it to anger. Only that I couldn’t hate you. You did what you thought was best for you.
But that didn’t stop me from being angry. It only made me feel guilty about being angry, which then made me even angrier.

Bargaining.
This was like going to the market with my emotions as cash and your subconscious being the merchandise I wanted to purchase.
“If only I had reacted a different way”
“If only I had let H know how his pain was my pain”
“What if I didn’t show him just how much I cared about him”
“If only he could access the voices in my head”
I wondered what you thought, how you felt, what you wanted. I wanted a sneak peek into your mind, past all those walls and into the very fiber of your existence.
Perhaps it was time for me to be the one to stick around? To give you reasons to not think with your head? That I could win your trust back? I wasn’t sure, or maybe I wasn’t patient?
Or maybe, just maybe, it was all in my head?
You probably never liked me, even though you said you wanted my soul?
Because your reason – I shouted – isn’t enough for what we had, or what I think we had.

Depression.
A different kind. Subtle, with a hint of realization. It’s the kind of dawning that comes with tranquility. I’m never getting you back, I know, and if you come back, I’d never trust you again.
But you’re not coming back, so, what does it matter…

Acceptance.
I think I’m ready to accept that no matter what I do, you’ll never be in my life.
Even after trying to win you back – because C said I should fight for what I want – this watered-down and cold version of you is not the real you. It’s not the H I know, it’s the H you can afford to be, to me.

It’s torture for me to actually keep trying to engage you in even the most basic conversations while feeling like I’m irritating you with the things I say or the way I say them.
It’s torture for me because as much as I love you, I also love myself and me hurting myself isn’t fun. I’ve done enough of that in this lifetime.
It’s also not fair to you, doing what you’d rather not do, making a conscious effort to be a certain way or pretending to not be enthusiastic about the things you are passionate about.
It’s not just unfair, it’s quite sad also.

So, dear H, in all of this, I only ask you one thing: tell me to leave you alone.
I need you to actually say the words “leave me alone”.
I need to hear them or read them somewhere. Over the phone, on WhatsApp, via SMS, or e-mail, whichever seems best for you.

If you really cared about me at any point in time, then please, help me let you go.
Tell me to leave you alone and I promise, I’ll be gone.

Regards,
U2.

Responses

  1. Chioma
    Hey U2, it’s damn tough falling in love and having to let go. You will eventually move on and most definitely meet someone else who will take the pain away.
    Cheers
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  2. Ruth
    Wow. Wow. For a while, I thought someone was writing this on my behalf. This rings a bell close to home. I was/am going through the exact same thing — the denial, anger, bargaining and all others. It’s funny again how his name, in my own case, also starts with a ‘H’. Just as you are hoping, I’m also hoping that he tells me himself to leave him alone. This is an amazing piece!
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