It’s a Love-hate Thing

It’s a Love-hate Thing

by

Ada Igboanugo

—–

I was done. I had made up my mind. He hurt me- no, I had hurt him. But, you see, my body had been programmed to auto-defensive. So when it detects prospective possible attack, it gets active. And I hurt him. His face said it all. He had placed his trust in me and I had dashed it into pieces. His face was sad with lost promises. I looked into his eyes. His beautiful eyes. The ones I looked into every time I woke up next to him after a night of love making. He would gaze at me and close them and I would watch him sleep. Those eyes held a different meaning tonight and it had nothing to do with what they held every night when he would smile at me with such compassion. Now, it was hate.

I was done. I couldn’t take it anymore. As much as he hurt, I did too. My auto-defensive mechanism was a curse in its own. It prevented me from true feelings. It rid me of the real opportunity to love. I wanted to love. I love, love. But I couldn’t have it. Because my fear of getting hurt is greater than my true heart desire. I wanted to wallow in pain. Pain of hurting him.Pain of watching him go, walk away from me for good. I wanted to stay in bed all day and cry but my friends won’t let me. Come out, they said. Come drink the pain away, they said. I didn’t want to go but their persistence is like the wailing of a child. Piercing in the ear. And so I got dressed and met them up at the bar.

I was done. Done with this game.Done with people toying with my feeling, with my emotions. It’s time to live for me, live for myself. It’s time to take care of me, no one else would. That gingered me as I carelessly drank to my fill. Yes! No one else in the world mattered except me and my glass of liquor. It had become my companion that night. My friends were in a different galaxy. They didn’t understand. The whirlwind moving in me. They didn’t understand the suppressed mass of emotions bottled up within. I knew I needed to unleash, let some of it go. All of it. No! Its best left inside, where it is. It’s safe there, from hurt. From the prey.The preys who would take advantage of it.

I was done. With the liquor. Or so I thought. I found a pack of cigarette and lit up some. I took a heavy drag and puffed the mass into the air and watched it freely soar. I wished I had that freedom, freedom to soar, with a careless abandon and nothing to worry about, no one to worry about; to a place without hurt, without feelings, without emotions. Free to be me, look after me, take care of me. Me!

I was done. With the party. But my friends had a different agenda as we changed base to another location. I couldn’t take it anymore and so I settled in a dark corner with my liquor and sticks at hand and I smoked and drank to my fill, alone. Just as I am, just as I have been.Alone.With no one but my thoughts of those that had hurt me and left me to rot in pain. I wanted them gone, I wanted to be gone. Away from them, as far as possible.Away from the pain, away from the hurt. And I did. And here I am now, Alone.

I was done. I sank deeply into the chair I had coveted as I let this new feeling take over me. My friends were having the best of time and had given up at persuading me to join in. they didn’t understand. I adjusted myself on the foamy fortress to make more room for my head to rest on its arms as I prepared to give into the hands of the influence. He walked up to me. I could barely make out his face. Was he real or had the combination of alcohol and nicotine gotten to me already? It was too soon, I thought. He spoke in a soft whisper. I was taken away, mesmerized by it. It was sweet and smooth. Like a trail, I would have followed should he have uttered the words. He took my number, no he gave me his, I think. That’s all I could remember, sadly as the image of him faded and the influence took me away.

I was done. With the alcohol and sticks, I keep telling myself as I woke up with a throbbing headache. It was bright outside and my friends were littered all over the place, fast asleep. Looking around I recognized the place as one of my friend’s. How we got here still and will forever remain a puzzle. Looking around once more, memories of him came flooding in of us cuddling after a night of bliss, with the ray of light seeping in from the slightly open window. Memories of last night joined the trail and plagued me and a string of thought reminded me of why my head hurt so much right now. Was that a tear trying to escape from my eyes? I hope not. Not now. I promised to be strong. I had promised I was done. I tried to get up from where I lay but my head spun so much I fell back down. I gave it another attempt and steadied myself after the third trial. I had just made it to the door when my phone rang. I let it ring several times before I picked it. I recognized the voice. It was the same one that came to me last night before I faded. He told me his name again and asked if I was ok now. I didn’t know what to say. He asked if we could meet up for drinks later in the day, I didn’t know what to say. I texted yes after he hung up.

I was done. Fighting the world, fighting myself. I would give it a try. It wouldn’t hurt to, couldn’t. We met, we drank, we laughed, we danced. It was great, warm. Life was good, love was near. It felt easy and safe. It could only get better. It did. We kissed, we touched, I yearned, he loved. I gave up, gave in. it felt so good, my weary heart stood. Every day was lovely, this honeymoon could only last forever. Or so I thought, until a month after.

I was done. Calling and texting, ceaselessly. What was wrong? What had I done? What was he doing? Why wasn’t he responding? I went to see him, I had to. I was going crazy, I was scared. Had he died? Did he get knocked over by a car? Shot? Arrested? I was going crazy with worry. I arrived at his door that evening, there was a loud noise coming from within; like a party. I put my ear to the door, the music was loud. I knocked once, twice. Banged. Distant footsteps got closer as they approached the door. I saw his smiling face turn to a frown as he opened the door and saw me on his front porch. i tried to mutter a word, ended up asking what had happened. His expression was cold, formal. Nonchalant and indifferent, he said nothing. He was fine, great. A girl came to meet him at the door, gave him a kiss and asked what the holdup was. His face lit back up, he smiled at her, and told her he’d join her in a few. She left after giving me a casual stare. He looked back at me and told me he’d see me later in the day before he closed the door and returned to his party.

I was done. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I just stood there. Trying to take it all in. one good thing came out of this, he is fine, at least. Emotions swam within me. I didn’t want to cry, couldn’t cry. I was so overwhelmed with emotions, it hurt in my throat. I turned around to leave, didn’t know where to go. I could walk into an oncoming car, I should. It would numb this pain I feel, forever. I had trusted love again, and it had stabbed me in the back. No I drove the knife deep in, twisted it several times. Until it reached its mark, my heart. It was gone, gone for good. I couldn’t feel anything. Only hate. I hate love, I hate him. I hate him so much I want to cry. Hate is a strong thing, as strong as love. Both of them can’t survive within, only one can live.

I was done. With me. I should end this. Why so much pain? What was the gain? There’s no place in this world for me. There’s no life without love, and love don’t want me. I thought as I walked aimlessly down the road, to nowhere in particular. I just walked on, wherever the wind directed. I was done, it was over. I am going to end it, its not worth it. Tears began streaming down my face. Tears I had willfully held, tears I was done with. It all hurts, so much. The pain was unbearable, I couldn’t. my thoughts clouding my being, water blinding my sight. I walked on to the garden, the open space in the heart of town. Far away from where I lived, far away from the memories. I sat on its green grass. The garden is a peaceful place, a place where God dwelt with his first creation in his image. There was no strife, no pain, no hurt, no wrong in the garden. Only love. Love made Him create them, dwell with them. Maybe He would find me here; maybe I should go to Him. Yes I would. I rummaged through my sling back and found a blade. I had carelessly kept these things in my bag for a certain need, sometime. That time had come. I removed it from its wrap, it had gone blunt. I took out the steel and reached for my wrists. I sliced through, a hint of blood glistering. I did same on my second wrist before putting the blade to the ground. It had hurt, but not as much as I felt within, it had numbed it. I lay down on the green of the garden, the tears pouring down, the blood flowing. As life seeped gently through me, thoughts of him came to me and I revered at the memoires. The fun we had, the love we made. I loved him, despite what he did to me. I loved him dearly. And I wish him well, my mouth curved into a smile as I felt lighter with every release. Love never came to me in the living; maybe it would come to me beyond, wherever it is I’m going. It never gave me now, but it did as it left me with these memories while it guided me away from this world, away from the hurt, away from the pain. It promised to take me to a place of peace, a place of serenity. A place I’d be loved, a place I’d be free. I took its outstretched arms and surrendered to its cold grasp.

I was done, it was over.

****

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Comments
  • Avatar
    Meh86

    Heavens, will need a drink!

    November 4, 2014
  • Avatar
    debloww

    Wow…deep 🙁

    November 4, 2014
  • Avatar
    Red

    I was distracted by the plenty "I was done." A little too much, if you ask me. Otherwise, its a nice read.

    November 4, 2014
  • Avatar
    El9

    Boy, ol' boy!!

    November 4, 2014
  • Avatar
    sane

    This makes me wonder if men have hearts. Like how can anybody purposely hurt another human being?

    November 4, 2014
    • Avatar

      Before you go all princess Diana & blame men for being evil creatures, hope you read the first paragraph.

      November 5, 2014
  • Avatar

    Suicide makes me sad.

    Suicide because of another human being who probably won't consider you beyond a twinge of remorse that lasts only a minute makes me sadder

    Love is great and love lost hurts like nothing else. But you can always get past it. Give it time~

    November 5, 2014
  • Avatar
    keezeeto

    wow, deep, n cool. nice write up

    November 5, 2014
  • Avatar
    michelle

    wow

    November 5, 2014
  • Avatar
    igee

    Vry deep and sad buh I’ve alwayz been of d skool of tot dah suicide isn’t d way to go

    November 5, 2014
  • Avatar

    Great read…..but she commited suicide and dat killed it for me.
    I see suicide as the ultimate sign of weakness.

    November 5, 2014
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