After nearly two months of writing unfinished stories and not posting anything on Hive, I picked up my laptop today, determined to finish a story and post it. It would seem like I do not care about writing anymore, but that is not the case, because how would I ever want my thought process and my voice to remain unheard?
How do I feel today, though? Tired. I am exhausted and definitely may give up any minute.
Image credit is mine.
The last two months have been draining mentally and emotionally for me. I got into a new relationship that most people around us weren’t happy about. Physically too, though, as I was admitted to the hospital twice.
I remember one evening after getting home from work and waiting for U.Y. to come home, and so I called him, asking where he was, and he told me he would be back soon. I randomly opened my Instagram page and went through images after images until I got bored.
In my single-room apartment, there was no need to lock the door since U.Y. would be coming soon. After some minutes of completely wasting my data, I took a few steps to change my clothes in front of the wardrobe. I picked out a pair of grey shorts and a big blue t-shirt. I decided to wear some perfume and wait for U.Y. I wasn’t even done yet when my door opened, and he came in, looking all stressed but smiling at me all the same.
“Oh, you are here," I said.
“Of course. Where else would I be?" U.Y. replied while smiling at me as he drew me in for a hug and a quick peck on my lips.
“You look tired." I said to him as I took his bag from his shoulder and dropped it on the floor in one corner of my room. I led him to sit on the bed while I sat next to him, holding his right hand and rubbing it with my left thumb. ‘I don’t know why my heart lights up when I see this man, and I wonder if I would ever get tired of seeing him after a while’, I thought to myself. I have never been with someone with whom I was living in the same proximity, as I believed that it would get tiring.
“I have something to tell you, babe," U.Y. said to me, jolting me out of my thoughts.
“Um, okay," I replied. “Do you want to talk now?" I asked. “At least, go get changed and come back," I added.
"Hmm," he grunted, causing me to eye him suspiciously now because I didn’t know what was going on. He picked up his bag, went to his house to change, and came back in ten minutes. Although I noted that this time he smelled nicer, he had also used some perfume. I mentally smiled.
“We need to go outside, babe," U.Y. said suddenly. I looked at his face curiously and he looked serious. I was even more suspicious and worried now and even despite my worries, I nodded in affirmation and stepped out of my room while he locked it.
“We should walk to the junction and sit beneath that tree," he said again as we walked towards where he suggested we talk.
It was 7 p.m. in the evening, and it was quite breezy, probably because the streetside had more bushes and shrubs than buildings. The street was untarred and dusty since the rainy season was about to come to an end. It is usually occupied by a few passersby at this time, as someone is either coming back home from work or the market; or leaving for work at the rice factory not far away; or mothers or children running errands to buy what they need to fix up dinner that night. U.Y. and I could only greet and smile at those passersby while holding hands as we walked to that junction. The feeling of peace and inner joy was short, however, as the junction was a mere three minutes' walk from our house.
We picked up a bench from a mechanic’s shed at that junction and sat beneath the great oak tree while facing each other.
“My ex-called," he started. I held my breath for a moment, trying to brace myself for what he would say next.
“It seems she knows what you and I have been up to. It seems she has been watching you and us for a while now.”.
I looked at him, dumbfounded. She was at least 6 to 7 hours away by car in a different state from us. “How?" I managed to ask.
“She told me about a few things she had heard about you from your office. I would like to tell you today that you have no friends among your colleagues at work. There is no one you can trust. My ex was never introduced to anyone as my wife; I have never proposed to her, nor have we done an introduction, and yet people are pocking their noses into the affairs of you and I, reporting everything we do to her. In fact, our neighbours are also involved. She knows when we even eat and at what time you are at my place," he added.
I was shocked, and then I felt hurt, then livid.
“Who has been telling her? Tell me what you know." I asked, feeling pissed off as hell.
“Of course, I can’t tell you. I do not want you to confront them. I just need you to know that almost no one is in support of my relationship with you. They believe I broke up with her because of you, without knowing the full story. I am pissed off. They question why we are together and believe we shouldn't be, and this relationship wouldn't last. I do not need to explain myself to them because they aren’t even family or people; I deem them the least important," he replied.
“So, what would you want to do? You need to call them out!" I told him as a matter of fact.
“I will. I promise”.
We talked randomly about something else for a while, although the pain of what he told me coursed through me. ‘I feel hurt. I don’t know who to trust; I thought I already had a family at work’. I have not had a single friend since I moved here, and it has been over a year. I was glad to finally have U.Y. as a friend and then a boyfriend, although it wasn’t my expectation at any point in time. There are times I think of U.Y. as a gift of divine providence that I dare not try to refuse.
‘So why is this hard? Why is it that when I have someone who is good to me, I have enemies around me?’. I thought again.
“It is my fault!" I blurted out.
“How is this your fault?" U.Y. asked.
“You wouldn’t have broken up with her if I wasn’t in the picture. I knew you both had problems, and I even encouraged you to settle them. Even though you already meant to break up with her before you got to know me, perhaps I fast-tracked it; maybe you would have given her more time before you ended things," I replied sullenly.
“Sarah, this is why I never wanted to tell you. I didn’t want you to feel guilt and pain. I mishandled the situation from the start. It should be my pain to bear, my guilt to bear, and not yours.”
“I still feel responsible.”
“It is not your fault. I chose to ask you out without completely ending things with her, and that is my fault; you didn’t even really accept it till I broke up with her," he said. “I know what I want, and what I want is you. I will do all it takes to make this work, because I want this to work," he added.
I smiled and asked that we go inside to sleep since it was already too late to make dinner. His last statement was reassuring, although it did nothing to take the feeling of guilt away, a feeling that I battled for weeks afterwards, along with the feeling of being watched everywhere I was.