Paper and Ink, Series

Paper and Ink: Femme Aimee (58)

By Emmeline Bisiikwa, Uganda:

You are the only person that isn't afraid to set me right and tell me when I need to get over my aggravation and grow up. Somehow, you keep me grounded even when it pisses me off. I learnt to look out for myself and put myself first with you. You always tell me to do what's right, only you know what's best. It is pretty frustrating when I ask leading questions like, 'Do you want me to text you?' and your answer is “It's up to you.' Pretty frustrating for a girl that wants to be wooed or wants to hear what you want to say. As someone I know says, fruity stuff.

The three weeks you have been in town on holiday have been a rollercoaster of misunderstandings, fun and interesting dinners between two people that love each other's company, and anxious plans to meet which sometimes ended in cancellations and then plans to meet again. Somehow, in between having you for some hours every day, time slipped away and the stolen moments weren't enough.

You said goodbye, and all I could think was I need more time with you. We had a stupid fight where you felt I was being hostile. It hurts me that you can't tell the difference between me being upset and me being hostile. That we keep fighting because you thought I meant or felt something. You told me you never know what I truly feel, but I think it's the other way around. You are a closed book and I can't tell what you mean to say or do.

You tell me to do what I want, but never tell me what it is you want. Is it me? Or am I just around when you are. I wanted to talk to you and feel like this trip meant as much to you as it did to me, but each time I brought up how I felt, you felt cornered and trapped. The misunderstandings blew up so fast, I couldn't tell where it was all stemming from.

I let it go. I wished you a good trip and said even if your moods were complex and tenuous, I had enjoyed every minute with you. I slept and woke up, to a missed call from you. Your message was short. Rbau. What was it you meant though? The mood or you had a good time too? You haven't given me a straight answer in months and I can't tell really what it is you feel, what it is you want. Is there room for something to blossom or is this one of those things not meant to be?

We talk like a dialogue that fits just right sometimes, and other times it's as if for everything I say, you hear the opposite. Whenever I complain, what you say is that you aren't responsible for my reactions, only for what you say and it's up to me to interpret what I hear.

I would give a million dreams to hear what you really think, what you feel. To have you answer my questions directly and not shut me out. I hate it when you say, I don't wanna talk about it and close the chapter that is our conversation. There are so many things I want to hear. So much I want to see with you. So very much I know we could be if only you let me in.

And now am stuck wondering what it was you wanted to tell me. Missed calls don't say much, just if only you had picked up the phone.

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