Bad At Love.

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Got a girl back in the Northern state and she tastes like white milky chocolate when I’m kissing her. Everyone needs love in this world, but a little chocolate here and then won’t hurt a little. We were not cut from the same fabric. I never really liked her friends. She wanted me to atleast get along with one of the friends. We had no mutuality whatsoever, so I never put the effort in that. Now she’s gone, and she calling me names again. What’s the whole point of it? I got hitched to a girl that lived in Garden City. She believed in the mantra that we would make it till we both graduate. I told her the art would be worth the wait. But she wanted me to don the role of family guy working eight to five coming back home to her while she’s in the kitchen with dinner plates.

She believed – yes she did, to the point that she thought we were meant to be. Jealousy gets the best of me at some point. I would tend to have insecure thoughts. I don’t mean to frustrate anyone but I always made the same mistakes that led to a never ending cycle of self purgatory.

“I’m bad at love”. I told her.

She can’t blame me for trying. I know I would be lying if I told her that she’d be the one to fix me. Looking back at my history, I knew love was not my thing. I was always attracted to chaos. The disorderly madness that raged within. They said calm waters brew rough storms.

Got a girl in California who had cerulean eyes and I thought she could really be the one this time. I never got the chance to make her mine, despite the many escapades we had.

“Why didn’t you make her yours”? They’d ask.

Because she fell in love treading dangerously between the fine white lines of lust and love. She was a Londonian with a little bit of an accent and an attitude. We never told anyone about it. She thought we looked so cute together as she would post our pictures in LinkedIn. Happy smiley faces we looked. Her friends would coo over them and double tap and like. For a moment I felt at peace when I was globe trotting with her to various cities in the world. We would see different shades of sunsets and different coastlines. Some rugged while others smooth.

We both got different posts and life pushed us away. I’d always think about her when I’m high up in the skies, while looking outside the window and seeing the clouds. Sigh. I got in too deep and my jealousy got the better part of me.
She was afraid that I’d walk away each time the feeling faded and when the communication grew faint. She was relentless in her pursuits. I had other interests at heart.

As I walked throught the sandy beaches of Zanzibar, my thoughts veered off. I had seen lots of things, heard alot of things about love. It never seemed as I had perceived it to be. We were not growing any younger. I further drifted to a past conversation where one lady told me that relationships are important.

I don’t want to lead someone down a path of false happiness. When I want to visit every city, view different cultures, have a taste of various cuisines that this globe has got to offer. She was the one that ruled her world. I ruled mine. I needed no joint efforts of having both worlds combine into one.

I did walk away. I wanted to be alone. As expected; she never went down easily without a fight. She did try everything to make it work. My soul had left the comfort and confines of what a relationship would perhaps rather offer. I’m the wandering type. I’d always search for something. Something to anchor my self in. My art gave me that passion I’d always crave for.

So I told her, “Let me live life. We both had different paths before they twisted and intertwined into one. I lost control. I veered off that path. I’m always set along the parallel paradigms. It’s safer that way. I wouldn’t have to wake up in the morning and wonder if this was a mistake I did being with you or was it happiness. I’d like to wake up and sip last night’s whiskey I left half drowned in the kitchen without a single worry. I would be comfortable enough when I’ll have to worry what vagaries would I paint on the canvas sheet. Would my pieces be worth the price in the next coming art gallery? If left alone I’d live it up. I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder whenever I’d want to throw caution to the wind and paint whatever madness would be in my mind. It is within those confines of chaos, madness and staring into the abyss is where a beautiful resolve is born. Hence a beautiful piece would come out from it”.

There’s not any single bad person at shaping their destinies. With separate ways, my mind would be open once more.

Got a girl back home, she’d call at three in the morning. She’d say she misses me, and she wants some. She’d say one more night then you can go in the morning. She knew she’d never get tired of the tirade. She was a sight to behold, the beauty of a mermaid, and I’d go into the deep waters and swim in her every night.

I know it’s not alright to string all these, all I wanted was to be left alone and feel the good vibes.

I know. I’m bad at love. I can cut you off and still love you. I can stop talking to you and still deeply care about you. I let go of you and still wished you the best. If I ever let someone alone, it wasn’t for them to be bitter or petty. It was for the good of me. Y’all right no would say I’m a selfish bastard. I did let you go so that I’d accept to love you but still be happy without having you around. I’d accept all that loving without you needing and being happy for me.

True happiness comes from within.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Patrice Ndiwa says:

    Woow. Good story

    1. Amwadeghu says:

      Thank you. I see you went back in time.

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