The Journey + Please Sign Petition

Hello. We’re all aware of the current situation in Nigeria. We all need to do whatever small part we can to ensure the girls are returned safely. That said, before reading, please take some time to sign this petition and this one as well. God bless.

I stared out the window, watching the lane markers on the stretch of seemingly endless road ahead become less visible by the second. The sky that had just seconds ago boasted one of the most beautiful sunsets I had ever witnessed – a glorious display of God’s artistry; dark grey clouds breaking up from a thicker gathering into smaller, more individual, beautifully unique shapes, dancing and quietly racing towards a bright orange tomorrow somewhere beyond the trees – steadily transformed into a solid darkness, illuminated only by soft clouds lazily drifting by, lit by far off city lights that promised an end to what had been a slightly grueling, deeply emotional trip.

About nine hours on the road, my bladder was almost full even though I’d had nothing but a can of malt all day, my legs were beginning to dislike the space they had been occupying the entire trip and were dropping subtle hints of discomfort, my butt had lost all feeling, and my body had decided I had slept enough for the day. Never mind the fact that I looked a complete wreck. The worst of it was the sky I had relied on to keep me entertained for the duration of the trip had abandoned me in the dark bus with people I had no interest in, leaving me to fall back on the thoughts I had spent the day trying to escape.

Despite putting your life in the hands f a complete stranger, who could very well be a mad man, speeding down and expressway, totally disregarding almost all traffic/driving rules, and acting like he and his vehicle are oblivious to the speed bumps and potholes on the road, road trips often aren’t so bad. Especially if you’re smart enough to go with a companion or you’re a sociable person who just makes friends with everyone on the bus and then basically becomes a nuisance offering unwarranted opinions and making a whole lot of unnecessary noise in a much too small bus. Unfortunately, I am neither. More often than not, I find myself travelling alone and have taken some sort of solitude in these happenings. I’ve never considered myself a sociable person, in real life, and thus don’t even bother to engage any of the fellow passengers any more than a polite nod or handing them some toilet paper – as I always travel with a roll in my bag. Besides, I always have my laptop and/or a book on hand, so I’m pretty covered as regards entertainment.

However, the circumstances that had led to me embarking on this trip had prevented me from adequately preparing and so I was left companionless yet again, and without my laptop or a book to keep me distracted. For the first time in what seemed like ages, I was on the run again, from another one of the kind of situations I almost always find myself fleeing from – emotional. My problem, the way I understand it, has always, and probably will always, be that I am a lover, not a fighter, if I were to sugar-coat it. Basically, I fall in love with someone, get upset about it, and then run away. This body, mind and soul was not made for confrontation, and I shy away from it like an open discussion is the sun and I am a vampire who has spent five decades living in caves drenched in darkness, and never once in all that time having gotten a glimpse of sunlight.

So, here I am. On a bus with about 12 people I do not know and lack the will to interact with, no sky or visible scenery to pretend to be deeply interested in, a tape of some supposed comedian reading terribly rendered versions of stolen jokes from a script playing over the speakers, and left out to dry by the sandmaster in conjunction with the driver seemingly deliberately speeding across speed bumps, causing the bus to jerk violently every now and then. Realizing my options are limitless, I decide the most suitable course of action is to strongly monitor my thoughts and prevent them from straying towards what I really should be thinking about.

Leaning back into the not-so-plush seat, I close my eyes and focus on thinking about the amazing week I had, driving extra energy into the “amazing”. I smiled as I remembered karaoke and game night, and chuckled a little within myself as certain conversations came to mind. Sometimes you never realize just how much you really miss people until you find yourself surrounded by them again. I let my mind wander from that to accessing how much a lot of people have grown, and how tragic it is that some have just managed to pretty much stay the same while everything and everyone around them changes; basically living their lives as living testimonies to the old saying “You can take a monkey out f the bush, but you can’t take the bush out of the monkey.”.

Some part of my sub-conscious records the fact that the bus hasn’t moved for a while, and I snap out of my reverie. Everyone on the bus is talking excitedly and horns are blaring from every imaginable angle. Outside the window, I notice a long line of red lights ahead of the bus, also not moving. Before I have time to really register what’s actually happening, three sets of flashing blue and red lights speed past the bus, leaving behind a trail of sirens piercing through the deafening horns from cars tired of being on the road and anxious to get to their destinations. Personally, I’ve never understood why drivers who can clearly see that NO car is moving continue to toot their toot their horns instead of remaining calm and probably seizing the opportunity to grab a quick nap, considering flying cars are yet to be invented as several movies and cartoons promised us years ago. What I find even more intriguing is that the fellow passengers on my bus, who are coming from a place that has often been referred to as “traffic capital”, were forming agitation.

In their defense, some actually had to make continuing journeys that night, so their annoyance was somewhat understandable. Luckily, I had no place I was in a hurry to be at so I just leaned back into my seat and dragged my thoughts back to where I’d hopped off; memories of smiles and laughter, conversations late at night, movies, and other, precious, irreplaceable, simply indescribable moments of simple bliss and profound ecstasy. Soon enough, we started moving again and I resumed staring out the window. We were closer to the city now and the roads were lit with streetlights and lights from one or two buildings scattered down the way. Grateful for the steady crawling of the vehicle, I rest my head on the window fully confident that my head will not be banged against it anymore at the pace we were moving.

A few more hours to go, I sat in my chair, staring lustfully at the road, still unsure if I’d done the right thing, plagued with thoughts screaming to be let out of the box I’d locked them in and unfinished stories playing out over and again with different endings, most begging for a chance to be told



You have the choice to erase one incident from your past, as though it never happened. What would you erase and why?

I don’t believe in regrets. Well, I do believe there is such a thing. I just don’t believe in allowing myself to feel it. Or maybe I should use the word “allow”…

Let’s start afresh.

What would I erase if I had the chance? Nothing.

It’s funny because I’ve thought long and hard about this a couple of times. Months ago, I would have probably written a book on things I would like to erase from my past and some pretty solid reasons why those things need(ed) to not have happened. But now, all that’s changed and I like to think I’m learning to see my life in a whole new light.

Everything happens for a reason. Every single thing. I honestly and truly believe so.

Getting to this point, quite honestly, has been a really incredible journey for me. Sometimes, I would just sit and ask myself what the reason for some of the shit I was going through could be and just be completely and utterly depressed and mad at the world. But that was until I made a decision to stop wallowing in misery and self-pity.
Life is full of a lot of crap and t will throw its absolute worst at you.

Slowly but surely, I’m learning that every challenge I face is a preparation for my testimony. You can’t ace an exam you don’t write, right? I mean, you can’t sign up for a relay race and be awarded the first place ribbon without even leaving the start line.

Wait. I feel like I’m derailing.

We’re talking about regrets, right?

Well, like I said. I’ve taken a pretty good look at some of the stuff I would have liked to erase in my past and come to realize I really wouldn’t have them not happen.  Have you ever come across Romans 8:28?

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

I used to have a difficult time with this verse until I realized I was looking at it from the wrong POV. It doesn’t just mean that all good things will happen to you all the time and so when bad things happen, then something is wrong.

This is why I love the amplified bible. Look what it says:

“We are assured and know that [God being a partner in their labor]all things work together and are [fitting into a plan] for good to and for those who love God and are called according to [His] design and purpose.”

I mean seriously. I’ve meditated on this constantly, and it has helped me realize that where I am now is as a direct result of every decision I have ever made. Not just the good or the bad, but a combination of it all. I may not be where I would like to be but I’m actually at a pretty good place in my life right now and obviously heading towards something much greater.

Thinking about which incidents in my life I would like to erase actually gives me cause to worry now because:

1) How certain am I that the one thing I erase will make things better? If I’m going to erase something from my past, it has to be because it will positively change my present situation Why bother if it’ll only make things worse r just have no effect at all?
2) I’ve said where I am now is as a result of every decision I have ever made. I worry that if I change single thing, I may lose the one thing in my whole life that I am fully confident I did right, and that’s not a risk I’m ready to take.

I’m teaching myself to look to the future with the help and strength of the Lord, and I’m done worrying about the past – stressing about things I should have or shouldn’t have done. Mistakes happen so we can take the lessons and move on. I read somewhere that as soon as you realize your past has no power over you, you are free. I don’t remember if those are the exact words, but it was some really deep shit and it made me nod my head in deep thought and appreciation. Like, I’m talking about those slow-mo nods.Yeah.

Anyway, that’s just me and everyone is different, yeah? If you feel like there’s something in your past you would like to erase and you’re in the mood to share, leave a comment below or not. Either way,

Peace, Love & Ribena


House Rules

Sometime ago, I posted something or the other about my wedding. Of course, after the wedding, my boo thang and I will be moving in together to live happily ever after. For better or for worse, I consider this equivalent to sharing a room in a hostel. So, naturally, I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up some rules that would enable us to co-exist peacefully and happily for ever after.

·         If there’s anything Nollywood has taught me, it’s that your extended family will ruin your marriage. Thus, as a result of my extensive training from the prestigious AfMag Institute, there will be no members of our extended families at our house for extended period of time (where extended = too-long visits or staying the night). No, your cousin will not be squatting with us until he/she gets a job. Your uncle’s in town? Wonderful! Allow me to recommend a fabulous hotel you can feel free to pay for if you’re so inclined. And your mother’s second cousin’s niece’s daughter will most definitely not be staying the night. I’m certain she saw the time when she left wherever she came from. Initially, I was going to insist nuclear family steer clear too, but we can negotiate this privately J

·         I’ve often heard people make statements along the lines of “Having separate bedrooms kept my parents’ marriage going.”. The devil is a liar. Please be aware that I consider this one of the highest forms of bull poopoo. We will NOT under any circumstances be sleeping in separate bedrooms. You can have your den and I can have my crafts room, and we can fight and scream and throw things at each other, but be rest assured that we will sleep in the same room every night. Unless one of us is out of town, of course.

·         Please, please and please. E ji m Chukwu a yo gi. There will be no cheating conducted within the walls of our matrimonial home. I desperately believe I will marry a man who makes me not want to be with anyone else. Just as desperately, if not more, I also want to believe my husband will feel the same way. Should this turn out not to be the case, my heart insists that it’s for the best if illicit affairs are kept outside the house. Chop, clean mouth, come home.

·         Cuddling is great. But sleeping comfortably is so much greater. In due time, you will come to realize that I favor one side of the bed more than the other. Please stay on the side I have left available for you. I love better when I’m well rested, don’t you?

·         When in doubt, or not, just do as I say. If we’re married, then you already know I like things done a certain way – mine.  Just because we’re married doesn’t mean you should stop trying to make me happy by doing what I say. And no, you still can’t rub it in my face on the off chance that I am wrong.

·         Please adhere to the kitchen duty timetable I will draw up. With both of us being such great cooks and having equally busy schedules, it’s important for the kids to always have something healthy to eat at home. Rotating the cooking days will keep me sane. Unless you want me to turn into one of those spiteful women who feel like they are being taken advantage f in their own home.

I have a lot more helpful suggestions in my head, but a lot of them are pretty private, if you know what I mean, and the rest just make me seem crazy. Stick with these, and we’ll be fine, for as long as we are. I’m not really asking for much am I?

Love you always.

He Just Isn’t (That) Into You

It has come to my attention that a lot of sisters are blind to the fact that guys also do quite a lot of friendzoning. In fact, not only do guys friendzone, but they do it differently from girls too.

Many a female heart has been shattered because they had planned a whole future for them only to be made very aware of the fact that dear sir wasn’t interested in that way.

A guy zoning a female can be hard to spot because, unlike females, they can be subtle about it. A female who isn’t interested will go out of her way to make sure you know there is no way you can ever be more than friends on this God’s green earth or in the life after. A guy, however, strangely is more cautious of hurting a person’s feelings and will encourage your growing infatuation. Often, a guy will exhibit one or all of the following signs:

He knows your name! Awesome! But then, when you let yourself think about it, so what? Your mum knows your name. Heck, I bet she has a special way of calling it too. Do you swoon every time your mother calls your name? When my mother calls my name, I cringe a little bit inside. You have to hear it to understand. Anyway, that’s not the point. My point is just because a guy happens to acknowledge your existence and knows the correct pronunciation of your name and calls it often is not enough reason to start building your future together. Yes, even if (you think) he calls it in a special way.

He cares about you. He may call you often to check on you, and seem genuinely concerned about your welfare and your day and all of that. That’s fabulous, really. It’s great to have someone who cares enough to check up on you regularly. I know this. But it’s still not enough. Keep in mind that our dear Lord and Savior Jesus Christ also cares very deeply about you and is always concerned about your wellbeing. What have you done about that?

He likes to hang out. I’ll admit this part is a bit tricky. When you spend a lot of time with a person, it’s generally assumed that you like this person. You might even share the same interests. The important thing is to learn to differentiate general interest and romantic interest. I don’t know the people you’re hanging out with. I cannot give you clear-cut guidelines on identifying each one. I can however pray for the Lord’s guidance in your life, so that you don’t build a castle on the imagined romantic interest of someone who sees you as a shiny new toy. Look around, when you go out. Is he hanging out with you? Or are you chilling with him (and his friends)?

Pet names will kill you. I cannot stress enough how important it is to realize that assigning pet names is something that comes too easily to guys. A guy will call you “bae” or “baby” or “princess” or any such similarly revolting, generic pet name in less than five minutes after meeting you without even thinking about it. Mostly because he cannot remember your name at the time (It’s a bit of an annoying stereotype, but it’s sadly also very true). Do not be swayed by these empty words, my sisters! Guard your hearts with diligence.

Hands on, hands off. There are some really touchy guys out there. Like, seriously. They seem to always be holding your hand, or have their arm on your shoulder or round your waist. My dear, beloved sisters I am on my knees pleading with you on this issue. It is important to resist the devil. These sorts of guys are the types who want to mark you as their territory and spoil your market and thus, agents of the devil.  You’re just there feeling this guy’s touches are electric and he’s just there resting his weary bones.

He can get naked with you. I can understand that every female appreciates a man who can get emotionally naked with her. A guy opening up to you means he trusts you with his feelings. And why would he trust you if he didn’t have some sort of emotional interest in you, right? Wrong. Everyone needs some sort of emotional outlet, you might be (one of) his. Don’t start to take it overboard.

He finds you (sexually) attractive. And he has made no attempt at hiding this attraction. He’s probably even hinted t a couple of things from time to time. You can choose to take these remarks as compliments, but I wouldn’t advice you take them to heart. Is there really any need to elaborate on this?

It’s sad to see a girl misconstrue a guy’s attention for real actual romantic interest and feelings and then get hurt when she actually makes a move. It’s even sadder when a girl takes these misconstrued notions and starts to treat this guy like her boyfriend.

However, it is hilarious when she starts to act up and gets put in her place. Well, maybe not to her. But it’s really is to everyone watching. Do you really want to be that girl everyone is whispering and snickering about behind your back?

We need to step back sometimes and access the relationships we have started to build with people in our minds. My experience has always been that when a guy likes you, you will KNOW, and not just imagine it. If you find yourself still wondering if he really has feelings for you or not, or you actually have formed some type of bond and he’s hesitant about taking that leap, you should probably just accept he isn’t as into you as you think and take a couple of steps back.


Hello February

I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so good.
My, oh my!
I’m jittery with excitement just thinking about you
In all your awesomeness, filled with love
You make me want to shout, and scream and laugh out loud.
And throw my hands up in the air in total abandonment
I honestly just can’t really find the words to express how much joy I feel inside
And now I’m just rambling
You know what? Let the fun begin


Stop It, I Like It

His soft hands brush the skin just beneath the hem of my dress and send several electric currents up my spine. I will myself not to blush as I feel my thin, already soaked underwear get even wetter. Of course, my whole skin is already flushed red from all the excitement, so I doubt it will make much of a difference whether or not I do. His hand shifts from my thigh and slides under the dress to cup my bum and I stiffen my body even more. “Stop.”. Pathetic. Even I am unconvinced by the barely audible half-command. Feeling my underwear starting to shift, I clear my throat and try again – louder and stronger. “I need you to stop.”. Much better. I mentally pat myself on the back and raise myself off the bed to prove how serious I was.

At first, he seems taken aback, but then he just leans into my chest, chuckles, and grazes my skin with his teeth. I don’t need some sort of expert to tell me my conflicting emotions are the least of his concern. “Relax,, babe.”, he whispers as he traces kisses and little bites up my neck. Affirmative action must be taken lest I give in to this sexy heathen seemingly sent by the devil himself to lead me down the path of eternal sexual damnation. Somehow, he manages to get my back flat on the bed again and I lay still, quietly quivering and contemplating how to resist as his lips begin to work their way up my crossed thighs.

Having spent the past hour playing cat and mouse with the fine specimen of a man pressing up against me – letting him kiss and brush and inch closer each time and then pushing him away – my arsenal of deflective antics is pretty much depleted and the part of me that secretly, desperately, craves this hunk of a man stirring a boiling pot within me is relentlessly beating the fragile, sensible part that knows to resist into a corner. Quite frankly, I am powerless to resist. Even more frankly, I want him to persist more; to pin down my feeble flailing arms still doing their best to pretend they’re holding him back and just ravage me.

Yes, truth be told, I want this… have wanted this since he called me away from my friends earlier in the evening and made it clear to me he wanted to be with me for the night, “chilling” of course. Once the door was shut behind us, I’d even played the good-natured sport simply looking for interesting conversation and informed him there would be no hanky-panky. Although my long-ignored desires were already starting up some sort of revolt and pushing thoughts and images of tangled joints and stifled moans to the fore-front of my mind, the ring strengthened my resolve.

The ring! My eyes spring open and begin to dart back and forth frantically searching for the last string from which my morals, decency,  and common sense – for whatever they were worth –  dangled precariously. i catch a glimpse of it as his left hand still struggles to slip between my thighs. On sight, the weakened part of my brain is immediately renewed with strength and vitality and comes swinging out of the corner it’s backed into. Believe you me, it’s like I’ve had milo and malt and Ribena shaken together and injected straight into the vein that pumps to my brain.

Playfully, I shove him again, harder this time, and roll out from under him. I hear him mutter some cusses in Yoruba and English and giggle to myself. Unfortunately, I’m too preoccupied with being inwardly crestfallen to come up with witty banter to lighten the now slightly uncomfortable air hanging above us. All I can think about is how my birthday is in a couple of hours and my only prospect of birthday sex is a married man. Yeah, he’s married, but he’s not looking for commitment; just a fun night before he leaves the next day. I need this, he wants this, how bad could it possibly be? The sex-starved part of my brain comes back from its break and seems to be even more fortified. How often does an opportunity like this present itself?

The tension in the room is so thick you can cut through it with a butcher’s knife. We sit apart from each other quietly musing, and I’m contemplating returning to the party in the common room when I feel his hands on my waist. Before I can gasp or put together another string of protests, he drags me towards him and plants his soft, full lips on mine. He smells like man; not the overpowering, slightly nauseating musky dank that a major percentage of the male species seem to think is appealing, but a delicate mix of honey and sex and something extremely edible. Sigh. Here we go again.


I kind of sort of stumbled upon this while going through some of my old stuff. Started writing this early last year. I don’t know why i didn’t finish it and i can’t remember where i was going with it. 


“Acrophobia, Teni.” He kept sting at me with that blank look on his face, failing to understand why bringing me to the amusement park and trying to get me to go on a ride I was certain would end my life was not his brightest idea.“ I’ve told you this before, sweetie.” I say with a sigh. “I can’t go on the ride, because I’m afraid of heights.” He looks crestfallen, but I’m still uncertain about whether or not I care. As far as I’m concerned, I was dragged out of the comfort of my home, taken to an amusement park against my will, and forced to endure the sun’s blistering heat. I am not happy. And as sure as my name is Ogechuchukwu, I am not putting my life at risk by getting on any of the rides available at the park.

Using my let palm as a shield from the sun, I glance up towards the particular death trap Teni is trying to get me to go on. As I watch a group of three people I assume to be friends get into their seats and strap themselves in, I start to wonder if maybe I’m being just a tiny bit too hard on Teni. I mean, he just wanted us to go out and have a good time, which I guess isn’t so bad. The machine starts up, and I can hear the hinges creaking as the chairs are lifted and eventually left suspending loosely between two poles. The chairs swing back and forth slowly for a little while, and then they suddenly start spinning. Hinges groan and creak as the chair is spun in every possible direction. At some point, the chair is turned upside down and suspended for about five seconds. I didn’t realize I had held my breath until they’re moving again. Sweet, thoughtful romantic gesture or not, nothing could compel me to get on that thing.

Quickly pasting a smile on my face, I turn and wrap my arms around his shoulder. Things between us have been rocky for a while and while I appreciate the effort he’s putting in, I think I’m honestly just tired. He stares down at me and plants a soft kiss on my lips. “Let’s go.” I hate the way it sounds, but sometimes using my whiny baby voice is the only way to get Teni to do anything.  Cloud rolls over the sun, providing us with some momentary relief, and he takes my hand in his. He smiles that smile that always melts my insides. His lips are moving but I don’t hear a sound. Obviously realizing my lost, he takes my face in his hands and turns me towards the ride I was only just staring at. The small cloud that had covered the sun seemed to have stretched across the length of the entire amusement park, and darkened. Rain? I thought to myself before turning to Teni to repeat the question out loud. Where Teni stood just a few seconds ago was now empty.  “Teni!!!” My eyes dart around frantically, searching for him as the wind begins to pick up. Empty soda bottles, candy wraps, pieces of paper, tiny pebbles, and sand are being picked up off the floor and flung at me as the world around me continues to darken.

Everyone is gone and I’m alone. I raise my arms to shield my face as I break into a run. I can still hear the creaking of the rides.  Are people still on them? That can’t be… SMACK!  My thoughts are interrupted as I slam; face first, into a wall. My collision sends me tumbling to the ground, and I lay there writhing in pain. In the midst of my agony, I feel something hot against my leg, and force myself to look at it. Light. I blink a couple of times in attempt to adjust to the brightness, but it doesn’t really help.  A part of my mind is wondering why there’s a ray of light hotter than anything I’ve ever felt before focusing on my leg, and the other part was wondering what on earth was going on.

And then I heard it. It was really faint, and had I not head it a second time, I would have believed it to be in my head. But I heard, steady, strong, and unseen. ”Öge.”

4: Ogamma

PROMPT: Write about dancing.


I watched her hips move freely, seemingly unhinged from her waist. The amber glow of the fire licked her ebony skin as her bead-shackled ankles danced excitedly around it in swift, fluid movements. The rattling of her waist beads mixed with the pounding of the skin drums and sailed up to the starlit skies as one melodious sound.

The excited murmurs and chants from the other onlookers just faded along with the music as my mind gave in to the enchantment before me. Her slender frame twisted and shook in time with the beat freely, without any care or restriction – never mind that she was clad in nothing but beads that dangled loosely over her perky breasts and privates. The fire seemed to enhance her already prominent facial features and her beauty radiated. Her eyes were closed, and she looked peaceful – happy even – loosing herself entirely in the dance ritual, unhindered by the burning coal beneath her feet.

Every year, I would come out with everyone else to watch the Ogamma dancer of the year, and wish and wonder and shudder at the beautiful intensity of it all. I imagined what it would be like to be the one chosen to dance for the village. An incredible honor it would be, but would I have the courage to pull it off? How would I even get my body to move like that? The ritual was very precise – every twist, every turn had to be properly timed and prosecuted, every hand movement signified something. The slightest mistake could render the whole night void. Would I be able to handle such a responsibility?

The beating of the drums intensified and my focus returned to the dancer before me. This was the part of the dance where everyone’s heart got caught in their throat. We all watched as her pace picked up and the coal beneath her feet burned a brighter red. Eyes still closed, she hopped and twisted and turned around the fire, never missing a beat or showing any signs of pain. One turn, two turns, and then her eyes sprung open on the third. She was gone now; her sunken eyes signified that Ogamma herself had taken over.

A gentle calm washed over the square as we watched the priestess dance to a gentle hum that she herself radiated. She seemed to just float above the coals, her feet never quite making contact with the surface as she moved systematically around the crackling flames. The humming stopped as she went full circle and there was a collective gasp as we watched her throw herself into the fire. We struggled to stay calm as the drumming picked up slowly, although I’m not sure if the drumming was from the skin drums or just our collective hearts beating simultaneously against our chests.

And then she rose from the flames, to a slow steady applause from her appreciative audience, an acceptable offering to Ogamma. Now forever marked and protected, dedicated to serving as the village priestess for the next year.


PROMPT: Write a letter to someone you have something to say to. (Remember to go with your “first flash,” and write for 10 minutes without stopping or thinking.)


Gosh, I’m actually going to do this. It seems utterly ridiculous that I had to wait for a prompt to do this, but hey! We don’t always expect the curve balls we get thrown by life. On the plus side, you might actually get to this and have a deep thinking session as a result of the sincerity I’m going to attempt to pour into the next couple of paragraphs…or not. Either way, here goes.

Believe it or not, I’ve actually been thinking about this for weeks now – almost a month, actually. i’ve thought about just confronting you directly, and even apologizing even though I’m not entirely sure what for. More than anything else, I’ve tried to move on and just forget it all but I just can’t and it’s getting on my last nerve.

It’s extremely annoying how you want/miss something a hundred times more when you can’t have it. Much more when you actually had it but let it get taken away.

I am willing to admit that I may not have acted like someone who cares or a friend when I made the decision I did. But I need(ed) you to understand the reason behind my resolve. Even now, I feel like I wasn’t able to get you to understand, to see things my way. Maybe that’s the problem? In retrospect, it was probably pretty short of me to expect you to understand what was in my head without even sharing it with you or giving you a detailed explanation. I guess it was one of those female moments where i expected you to read my mind. Or more like asking you to jump based on blind faith alone. Man, I screwed up.

Truth is, I was too busy trying to keep myself from getting hurt, I completely ignored the fact that I had upset you. At the time, I just wanted to focus on vindicating myself and carrying on the way things were than being the friend I should have been. Things just got way too complex and messed up and I thought I could get it all under control. Even when I shut you out, you still reached out and I stupidly tried to play the whole thing down when what I should have done was tell you everything.

I wanted to beg right after, I really did. But this pride of a thing is a bitch and a half. Again, I chose to play it cool. Damn load of good that did me – here I am now doing what I should have done weeks ago. This woman of steel act is honestly getting pretty tiring.

I miss you M, honestly and truly. Is it too much to ask that we be friends (again)? Or, at the very least, try? I mean, we’re kind of even now, right? So we can maybe just start over? *sigh* even typing this feels like the wishful thinking of a star struck adolescent. But I honestly can’t help it. Go hard or go home, yeah? I never really felt like we had something where we could just share whatever, but I’m hoping that’ll change and I’m starting by putting all this out here.

Will you see this? Will I grab my balls in my fist and reach out to you directly? No one really knows, I guess. But if you do see this before I man up, then I hope you see how much I miss you.