Submitting to defeat

As if to emulate a megastar who has come to a flop, my belief in love has been tainted. The hope that used to be echoed through from each of my eyes has vanished; leaving behind a heart so opaque and broken.

For months, my mind made efforts to convince my heart of the light possibly visible at the end of the tunnel. Blocking all lies and exterminating supporting heartaches, my heart declines and responds only through imperceptible exchanges. It has even become a stranger to its owner.

It’s like I am empty. It’s like my career alone is not enough, anymore. It’s like I have always been in love. It’s I have always been loved. It’s like I have always been love. Of which, the on and offs have always been a big part of my life.

In an attempt to comprehend the crux of the matter, I wonder if it is the recently curved link that has messed me up or maybe the damage has been piling up since the first break-up in 2007?

They can break my heart as many times as they like, but they can never take away my belief and will to love. I used to say. Nowadays, I utter the same phrase, without even a pinch of conviction. Hence I am convinced; my liver is where my heart used to be.

Today, I look at men and all I see is men, not the species I would imagine devouring from my garage door all the way to the sink in my kitchen. It’s like I have just been born and all I can feel is hunger for food and thirst for grinded red grapes. I believe I have lost my ability to love. Actually, now I think I am disabled. Too bad the government in my country does not cater for victims of this sort.

Loneliness has always been here. In fact, he is the only man with whom I have had the longest relationship. I think he has been with me since the day my father escaped life willingly. He has seen me struggle with being a pink black from an early age. He was with me when I enjoyed varsity life and he continued to see me through my first and last times.

I used him whenever I needed a getaway, simply because I am used to him and he understands me more than my friends claim to.

Time to point fingers is long gone. I would know, that is what I do best. Until I cross runways with yet another pink black who appears worthy of me again, I will use this time to set fire to the rain. Simultaneously collect the bricks left of my belief, and reconstruct what is left of my heart.

I may be lacking to conviction when citing strength, courage and wisdom, but I still maintain that in me I possess some flicker that holds the potential to set my life ablaze.

I do not believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, there is no tunnel to begin with. However, there are numerous opportunities in this dark hour.

Happy read!