…Through and through you’ve been nothing but the best… Putting up with me when I act up. So I see how I treat you and resolve you can do better…
Typically, most windups are emotionally charged with gloom. Of course a rare exception is that of a life well lived upon whose ending marks a guaranteed move to a better place filled with apples, I’d want to assume. But that is not the type of culmination I will to depict. This is no happy ending. And neither is it a sad one. I don’t know where to categorize this one. I am just as uncertain about that as I’ve been about everything from the onset.
When I first met you, I wasn’t sure what I experienced. Hold up, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be there in the first place. Had I consented to convene with you because that’s what most of my friends did over the holidays? Or was it that I really wanted to see you for the first time even though we’d been talking? I was a young boy left to his own devices trying to maneouvre through his teenage years. Anyway, we met. An awkward caucus that was. Brief too. Mostly because I felt uneasy around you. But it had nothing to do with you as person, no. You were a girl and that’s all it took. After exchanging pleasantries I gathered I didn’t have much game to pull through the window of five minutes I had begged for. You think you want something but when you get it your organs fail. Case example, my tongue. (As in I was tongue-tied folks, not whatever your gutted minds are thinking). So after several minutes of silently walking beside each other, I came up with an excuse to recuse myself from any proceedings of that rendezvous. I left feeling like an arsenal fan. And that was the last I saw of you for a very long time.
Fast forward to the time when we reconnected. Lighting a burnt out candle, I’d say. It started with mundane conversations but with time it was evident which road we were taking. I wasn’t shy to concede what I thought I felt and neither were you. It is always easier when you’re doing it over the phone anyway. This way you get to build an image, picking only what appeals to you and consolidating them into somebody you truly like. What you forget is, nothing about that is authentic because humans are only humans because they are flawed. Notwithstanding, you were just what I needed and vice versa. We both needed voids filled. Only mine was boredom and yours a greater principle that I was unacquainted to at the moment. So I continued to play akin to a person in a hole who keeps digging deeper. Not once did I reckon what I was getting myself into. If anything, my past relationships never saw the light of day, where night lasted not more than a month. It was always fun and games. You didn’t swing that way.
One day you went down on your knee and asked if we could be a thing. See, this is where I should’ve put everything into perspective for you but I got caught up in the moment and didn’t say no. I hoisted you, pulled you into an embrace and let you tear up. Note, all this while not a word was uttered by me. Again, I was scanty of words and inexact of emotion. I guess silence does mean consent.
Through and through you’ve been nothing but the best. Any man’s envy. You’ve always had the looks. You’ve been loving and caring and loving and caring. Religiously asking how my day was even after I told you I found it rather irritating. Putting up with me when I act up. So I see how I treat you and resolve you can do better. I tell this to you but you have this idea that I am your one true love so you won’t let go. Dead and buried.
This ends without really ending. Human anatomy shows a human being can survive with a failed kidney. This is what that is. A functional dysfunctionality. Dead and alive. Paradoxical. Only question is, how long before the ailing body caves in?