Damaged

What do we do after this unending cycle of waking up and going back to sleep? What do we do after this cycle of celebrating anniversaries and birthdays? There are times that define us and make us evaluate and re-evaluate our lives. For me, it was one of those times. 

I woke up online and slept online. 

Well, it wasn't really sleeping, it was closing my eyes until I was sure no one could hear me crying. And then I cried and watched depressing videos on YouTube, then I cried some more. So when you started texting me a lot more regularly I can't say I was bothered, I wasn't. I was so broken. 

I was so damaged, I was like a wrecked car that had been run over by a bus or a lorry. I needed someone, anyone at all. I needed someone to hold my pieces together. It didn't matter who or where they were from or what they were like. It didn't matter if they didn't like coffee or if they were cocaine and heroin addicts. All the things that I would usually care about didn’t matter to me anymore. 

You had become my favourite drug. You were my distraction, my friend and I was yours. On nights we were drunk on popcorn and movies, Netflix and fries, just drowning in sugar and getting high on it. 

I was so oblivious to your feelings,  I didn't know you wanted more and now here we are, in love like never before. Kissing in public, hugging and all the stupid things that love makes people do.  We act like we’re in love, you think it's magical, some kind of miracle. 

I’m left wondering what I'd do without you but at the same time, you're not who I saw myself with. I feel obligated to tell you I love you not really knowing if I mean it. I know you love me  by the way you cook for me, I know you adore me by the way you look at me and handle me with care. 

You dare not hurt me in any way, out of  fear of  causing  me pain,  I see it in your eyes. I wake up at night to find you staring at me, the dim light from the night lamp on my face, you roll over to me and kiss me, and then you pull away and stare at me some more. Like staring at me heals your wounds somehow, giving you hope for tomorrow.

You stare at me unsure if I love you and yet you still worry about making me cry or that I may leave you one day. I know you read my messages late at night while I’m sleeping, searching through my apps, jealous and overprotective. I used to like that about you now. Honestly,  I don't know what I feel. 

You’re a hopeless romantic that found a damaged and broken woman to love. I wish I knew how to apologise to you for making you fall for me. You always tell me to stop saying sorry because you understand me, you get why I do the things that I do, but you don’t understand this so please know that I’m sorry.

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Gloria Nyagaka is Kenyan and just completed her Bachelor's degree in Geology.

She has been a writer for six years now. Her manuscript is the biggest project she’s ever done, a modern romantic thriller, is in the hands of her literary agent. It is a book that expresses great female characters and the strength of a woman at large. She mostly campaigns against women violence and for freedom for women to choose. She also focuses on how great women have changed the world, Michelle Obama, Serena Williams, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and others. She is a swimmer, a swim coach, a Taekwondoka, hockey player, and a dancer.