Most times I see folks hold hands together -today, strolling down the road and peering into each other’s eye to convince themselves that this is love, that what the have is real and the sun shinning on them of course will affirm this. Then when you see them the next day or week, There’s so much hate in their eyes, agony and unspoken curses. Their lips curve with regrets, with pain and longing, like a thousand suns burns in their eyes. This bothered me. I mean why continue? Why keep repeating the cycle? Jumping at the next smile, at the cool gesture, diving head on to fall in love again…why? it took me a while but I got it. Finally I understood it. It all to came me. Why people always found it difficult to let go. Why it seemed all they ever wanted was to fall in love -hopelessly and deep inside the warmth of hope round it. Like their lives depended on it. It all came to me; why love was made, why it came into existence
Love is; an escape from human suffering. home to a traveler, where one comes to take rest from the world. From the sun. We hide in its shade, away from the pangs of living. It explains it all. The nights my head felt hot. My eyes burnt. And the tears that wouldn’t cease. It wasn’t because she said, she was done. Nor was it because I couldn’t forget nor move on. It is simple. It was because I would automatically become a spirit child — trust into the world of the living. With tears, cries and the rife feeling of betrayal, of been forced into the world. I cried because I would for a moment stop loving and forced into living. I will at that long stretch of lonesomeness, remember what it means to be human. What it means to be me; a human with needs. A Nigerian with the only option; to survive—then live later. Love is a minute loop between suffering and pain. A truce, a break were we can freely rest.