Tuesday, 5 March 2013

Stolen Affection



I opened my eyes, giving up on the sleeping charade. I was sweating, even though the A/C was on, blowing a cool breeze right over my head. I had been tossing and turning for about an hour. The bed felt huge and lonely. I hadn't slept a wink since Nat left. 

Sitting up and wrapping the sheet around myself, I hugged my knees. They were all I had to hold. I had never had trouble sleeping alone. In fact, I enjoyed nothing more than sprawling across my large bed and enjoying the fact that I didn't have a man hogging my luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets or snoring loudly, disturbing me. 

Today wasn't one of those nights. 

Tonight I wanted nothing more than my boyfriend's comforting arms. His soothing voice telling me that everything would be fine. I wanted his comforting presence. His, perhaps empty reassurances, but assurances nonetheless. 
But there was nothing. Nothing but the deafening silence of the night. The coolness blowing from A/C suddenly felt like an Arctic wind. I shivered and reached for the duvet. My phone was underneath it. I picked it up and slid my finger across the screen to unlock it. The harsh light from the display made me wince. A tear fell from my eye and surprised me.  Irritated,  I swatted the tear away like a fly. 
The truth is that I couldn't call him. Not at this time. It was much too late. He would probably be in bed, asleep. Maybe not asleep, but it wouldn't be convenient. It would be risky to upset him. I didn't like upsetting him. 

That unruly bit of me was it it again; screaming, urging me to dial, what about you!? what about your needs?? Call him! But in times like this I thanked God that I was reasonable and level headed enough to ignore my recalcitrant inner voice. Thinking about God made me feel guilty. I shouldn't be thanking Him, I should be hiding under an impermeable rock from Him. In times like this, when I felt most alone, I felt Him watching intently, asking if I was ready to walk back into His embrace. But the pleasure, stolen kisses and clandestine meetings were so much more alluring during the day. I often felt so powerful. Only to be reduced to this embarrassingly whimpering figure once in a while. More and more often lately.
I decided to be stubborn, so I dialled his number, pressed the speaker button and waited. I wish you could see me. My whole body coiled in readiness like an athlete. I waited with bated breath as the phone icon appeared and began to transmit the call. It rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. It kept ringing. Again and again. "The number you have dialled has not answered..."
 The screen was a blurry fuzz of light. I was crying.

When did I allow myself to become this person??  I felt like such a stereotype. A mere statistic. Listening to the same old excuses, believing the same old lies, forgiving the same old broken promises?? 
When? What happened to me? When did it push me away from God? leaving me fatherless. How on earth had I gotten to this point? I had been lonely before, that was my justification but I was as good as alone now, wasn't I? 

I would see my little sister the following morning. She always made me happy. I made a mental note to tell her to learn to guard her heart. People will use it, stomp on it, destroy it and throw it away...if you allowed them. 
That is what I have learned. The great love that I felt has destroyed the person I once was and replaced it with a woman who has no identity, heart and soul. All I am now is mostly depressed and inconsolable, unless he is with me. I would tell her that as women we need to think twice about getting involved with a man who belongs to someone else, no matter how much we love him.

My phone beeped, a text message. 
It was from Nat:

My wife is sleeping and I don't want to disturb her. Is something wrong? Hope you're ok. I'll call you in the morning,on my way to work. Sleep tight x



credit: wisdom4wives on Instagram