Paper and Ink, Series

Paper and Ink: Femme Aimee (62)

By Emmeline Bisiikwa, Uganda:

It's raining. The pitter patter on the roof and windows lulls me into a sense of acceptance. The wind blowing leaves provide an almost violent sound on the periphery of my ear. I think and think of so many things. You are not one of them.

I think of writing, one of my loves. It wasn't my first. I think of reading. When did I last read something I truly loved and couldn't put down? The blasé romance of boy meets girl and they live happily ever after has lost its thrill. I admit it lost it many years ago. The paranormal love story seems evasive; I don't find much of that lately.

When I think of everything I love, everything I do or don't do, you aren't even close to the edges of the list.

Four years and all I can feel is annoyance and irritation when you insist on talking to me. Four years and it doesn't ache as much as I thought it would. What is love? Could it be I fell out sometime ago or was the second time dating you just a delusion I tried to fit over my eyes like a shade?

I remember breaking up with the ones before and after you. It hurt like a searing pain of a knife cutting out my insides. My feelings bled all over my paper, notes, emotions and thoughts. I had no idea how to un-love them and untangle all the futures I had thought up in my head which were now causing so much pain. I cried late at night and early in the morning as I went to work. I lost interest in work, reading, writing, crafting. It felt like along with them I had lost parts of me too.

Fast forward to after you; I feel somewhat lonely. Like when am alone late at night and can't sleep, and I think of someone that will love me and hold me; someone that will share my bed. That someone has never worn your face. I don't wake up and panic at the thought of you gone.

I started a new chapter without you; a new job where I am learning a couple of things. I keep meeting new people, none of whom I am taking seriously. I have realized being alone is better than being with someone that doesn't even try to do the little things for me.

Let's just say I have changed; painfully, deliberately, happily. I like this new version that isn't a pushover and who knows what she wants, this girl that indulges in what she loves and knows where she is going.

Making the hard choice seems to have been the final straw for me. When I cried out to you and you just ignored me, I think that's when I knew that this heartless person who could treat me so callously wasn't the person I wanted to be with forever, or even a day.

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