Ola

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A few days ago, I wept. I wept for the life I thought I’d somehow lost in my endless quest to find self! The quest I thought I had lost when I became a mother and my existence seemed to have seized to become my own. I cried over my past and felt that I had reached a point wherein I felt I could no longer battle with what seemed never ending issues. I wept, laying in my bathtub. I wept. Yesterday, I woke up and asked my ex boyfriend, my first love, why he left me to get raped by a police man at the age of 15. Why, when the policeman told him to go, he felt he could leave me in my innocence to the fate of this atrocious man. At 35, I finally gathered the strength to ask my boyfriend of then that simple question, why! None the less, his explanation seemed to have soothed my soul. I thought to myself, I should write, write about my life, my troubles, my tribulations. That same evening a friend, a special friend, invited me to a Women Leadership Seminar. I am eternally grateful to her. It was a life changing moment for me. There was a lady, who had been brought up in the most disdain of circumstances, had been raped at 13, yet through it all, she stood tall, confident and spoke of how now she stands with a perfect job, perfect family. She touched me and I found myself uttering in front of strangers, that I too was a victim of rape! But at that moment, that instant, I felt relieved. A burden was lifted off me. I did not share how my mom had passed on giving birth to me, or how my father whisked me away from birth that I never knew whom my mothers relatives are/where, or of how growing up I was emotionally abused along with my brother because as step children with no mother or family, well, you have to bare it all. I also did not share of how I became rebellious, of how I consciously decided I would find “love” in order to escape the emptiness. I felt if I found someone to love me, I would feel like well, at least I fit in somewhere. My first love, left me to the mercy of a rapist, my second true love, beat me to the pulp each moment. None the less, I felt empowered. I got home with a new understanding, I had wiped away all those shameful things I had to endure. Yet, I still felt I needed to find peace within myself. So I thought, tomorrow, tomorrow I will write. Of love lost. Love found. Love conquered. Love endured. I woke up, inspired. To release. To look beyond. To stand. To embrace. Then I got a text from Ola! :-). If I could, I’d write of this man. Pure of heart. Loving. Passionate. God fearing. Sincere. But how do you begin to write of that beyond that which you have always desired. How can I write of a man whose mere smile melts my soul. Do I begin by saying he washes away all that is impure within me, or perhaps that the mere scent persona glosses my being? I could, I would, if words had been a gift I had been blessed with. Alas! All I can say is, I am grateful that I met, I fell, I felt … OLA! Is it possible that a man can hold you and you retrieve your self worth from the depths, the dungeon, the pits of a dark lonely place! Is it possible to love so purely that it matters not whether he loves you too? You see today I discovered that I can love purely, expecting nothing in return. You see, whether I see him again or feel him again matters not! Only that, I met, I fell, I felt and yes, I loved OLA! So tonight I took my courage which I acquired from asking my ex boyfriend why he left me, and wrote of my ordeal, I took strength from the lady I met at the seminar to write of my experiences, I took love for Ola, to publish it. This is the beginning of my tales. Memwa’s of a broken girl, tales of a lady, memories of a mother, encounters of a lover! Read with me … Let us unveil … Me!

Heart Beat …

So I lay in bed … thinking of how best i could conjure up words that best describe how i feel when i hear his voice… when i get a text from him … when he looks at me and i hastily shy away!

How is it … how can he … how does he …

Shall I say that I am blinded by his charm? His eloquence … his scent? Shall I speak of how he seronates me with his voice? Of how his touch entices my very being? Shall I dare … dare i … speak of how his soul entwines with mine … Or shall I sit back … with haste and allow for time to play it’s part?

Time… Dare I? It was never mine to pause!

Fear … age … health … time!

Let love lead. I love him. Deeply … dearly.

I laugh more … smile more… live more when I am with him.

Time … give me him. For however long I have left.

Heart beat … he just texted … Babo xxx

excited …

New career … fresh new business ideas … courage to go after something alone ….

I’m excited …. New … relationships …. friend or foe …. lover … perhaps 

I’m nervous … I’m anxious …. I’m curious …. 

And I’m here

Hello … again … Memz 😆:)

Him ….

Hello ….

silence !

I … I’m here … I’ve always been … right here ….

Hello ….

Waiting …

Frown … 

Why …

Why have you been waiting … I didn’t ask you to …

Silence !

Hello ….

Love offered, rejected … before … it … before it even grew!

Silence !

Hello …

Goodbye!

Brief glimpse …

… Its funny how we often perceive to know what it is that we need. That we tend to sit
around and just … debate … what it is we desire. That somehow, we just know what
sort of a partner we seek. The other half … my smile keeper … he who will truly …
and without a doubt … know me earnestly.

It’s funny how I have somehow always told myself that I didn’t want a guy who resembled my
dad in any shape or form. I’ve spent the better part of my adult life chasing his opposite.

So … once I met a man whom I was certain reminded me of my dad… dodged a bullet I thought.
Luckily at the time … it seemed he had a few of his own issues and wasn’t interested
in perusing a relationship with me.

Jump to the present. Somehow, finally … we met again. My brief glimpse at happiness.
I tried to decipher him. To break this person whom I’d met years ago and truly try to understand him.
Shy, humble, caring to those near him. A loving father.

Distant … for the most part .. towards me. An aerie coldness seemed … always present.  Didn’t matter how close I tried to get to him, there just seemed to be … this cold ambiance between us.

None the less, like the betrayer my foolish heart is … it opened up.  I let him in … I’m not certain he wanted to be let in … but I … I let him in.

And so it was that my brief encounter ended.  Unclear, uncertain, phased … I left.

Why did we meet?  What had fate intended for us to explore?  We’d met years prior.  What is it that fate thought was left unspoken?  Does he even like me?  Did I perhaps … was it all just a … was I just …

Lost.

Sitting here, where water calms the very depths of my soul.  My tears fall helplessly… STUPID HEART!  you’ve done it again.

Is it not that perhaps I am eager to find that which was never meant for me.  That only… cold empty rooms … surround me, yet I see … bliss?  Smile.  He may just be the one.  Giggle … as all the walls built over time crumble as if never been.  Sway your hips … an invitation to a lonely bed.  Listen … as he walks away…

A brief glimpse into what was simply never meant to be mine.  Fate …

More tears … no more I scream!

More confusion … silence! I cry out!

Words … never spoken.  WHY fate!

Why couldn’t you let well alone the past remain!

Tears!  Again … Tears … yet again … tears … who will know me for me and love me for me …

“Not all of us are meant to fall in love and be loved back”, I cry out!  Come my broken heart … a frail smile … shake it off.

Tomorrow …

tomorrow we will live as if today never was.  Come my eyes … cry that final tear … tomorrow … tomorrow it will be as if … as if … we are not broken at all.

Lift me up my feet … faith carry me off this cold stone.  Belief that tomorrow can never be worse … please shield me from fate.

A brief … glimpse into “silence”

Memz.
4_alone%20in%20the%20river_unknow

… September 2016

Bliss … at having found me again …

I read … of a Miss Silence … Of how … she has nestled within her embrace … the heart … the favour of he whom … she … desires.

Could it be … that the mystery of that which my heart yearns for …   is …. and will always be a mystical quiz … Could it be that loves embrace … though … sweet … burns to the touch. Is it so … that loving … purely ..merely leaves one … vulnerable to loves vile bile once tasted?

Could it be …

Possibly …

Does it matter ? Is it not that we are designed to love another …

I am strong …

Love as an emotion, is always so over bearing. It comes at you with the brutal force of a tornado … Evades you just as easily, leaves you broken and torn in a matter of minutes. But how sweet is it when the tornado sweeps you off your feet? Is it not better than anything you have ever felt? That priceless moment when from the depths of your core you feel intertwined. When you feel, when you know, there lies between you, a connection you would not dare to describe lest it fades before the tornado.

Was it when his gentle hands caressed me and my skin tingled as if in anticipation? That I knew! Or perhaps it was when he kissed me and I fed him my soul that I fell. I tell you this, NO! It was when he smiled.

I wish I can say I met him and I knew instantly that I liked him beyond words … I wish. Perhaps I did. But I tell you this, it was when he smiled.

To meet, to fall, to trust. How amazing is that. However brief! I tell you, I cannot think of anything more precious.

Sadly though, love is elusive! It comes in many disguises. Its funny, the only lesson I’ve never learnt, the only lesson that I hope never to learn, is how to heal a broken heart. I don’t want to forget, to lose sight of what matters most. It is not that I lay alone in my bed every night that I cry, it is because I loved, however brief, and I never want to forget it.

For me the pain reminds me of the man. When I recall my first love I recall that he rescued me from certain madness @ home. That I cried from his house to mine when he broke up with me, reminds me of just how much I’d fallen for him. That I stood up, dusted myself off, that I knew I’d love again.

My second love, my very abusive ex husband, all I recall is that he called me his “sweet dessert rose”, that he serenaded me with poetry. That we loved within the cradle of mountains, of rivers, of lakes. That we loved, we bore, we grew, we became … Parents! That he beat me and abused me, all I recall is that I was the stronger for it. That I became stronger, means I survived. That I survived, I achieved. That I achieved, my children became not homeless or starved. How can I hate having loved, never! It made and still shapes whom I am.

Have you ever, touched someone’s finger tips and felt connected from the pits of your soul? I have! Have you ever loved so purely that age didn’t seem to matter? I have! Have you ever loved so much, that a mere smile, melts your very being? I have! Have you ever loved, that you loved to love? I do …

Perhaps, my own is not to dwell forever in love’s embrace! Perhaps my own is to ride within the tornado for as long as it will have me. Perhaps that is my destiny!

Which ever way, however so … Until I lose the strength to get up after the tornado, I will chase them at which ever turn they come my way!

I am, will always be, a helpless romantic!

I am woman ….

Aa aaa that priceless moment when you seize to be a girl. When you notice your features. Your breast, thighs, legs, the enticing sway of ones hips when accentuated by that form fitting school uniform! The stares from male teachers when you innocently giggle at a lame joke, effective but unintentional! Mr Sibanda I have not forgotten you! Lol. But there it was. I had grown into a rather timid teenager but one who was aware of her aura! Sexual as it may have been. There we had her, young Pamela! Timid but present in every sense! School continued on a hopeless turmoil, home life became more senseless! I became less interested in day to day chapters which appeared to unfold, unread, unacknowledged within my “home”. One day the maid came home and began to talk about her boyfriend … Needless to say, I was intrigued. I thought to myself, well there is an escape far better than any novel I’ve ever read. A present, a reality … An escape. Enter Vivian, yes real name! Lol not sure if it was love, doubt it. More like he was the fine boy from the school across the road! I repeat, fine! I liked that in essence I had him intrigued. I kissed him, and he would shiver. In my somewhat clumsy approach to kiss him, he wet myself. I discovered therein lies the power of womanhood. So Vivian when he became predictable, became a bore. Enter his best friend, Tendayi, the well off young chubby man from Ruwa! Now he was enticing. Tendayi wrote poetry, as did I. He was more eloquent, me being me, from a tender age, has always been enticed by an eloquent, well spoken, confident man. And so it became, that I dated the two best friends! I called myself Venus, the goddess of love and pushed it foe! Once Vivian caught me with Tendayi, I can’t recall having been fearful or sad, only intrigued. Because sex was never mentioned or had, kissing went as far as first base. For an avid reader of romance like myself, you will agree, a Mills n Boon novel at best. Hmmm needless to say the two friends grew apart, I grew bored. That ended that. Enter the then head boy of St. Georges Boys College! Romance, love, friendship, companionship, understanding …. My should have been! All that, and heart ache for good measure!

Confusion

High school … Enter timid me. I was shy, had very little self confidence! But very short tempered! Lol. So there I was, a dreadfully long uniform my dad had gone and picked in my absence! A huge blazer and hideous shoes! My first day of high school I looked more like a retarded librarian! Lol anyway, there I was! A brand new world. My dad still drove me to school and I caught a bus home. Needless to say, my social life was non existent! Home life was its usual drag! Usual barriers, we merely existed together. Puberty didn’t help much! I was pretty much confused, I wasn’t the smartest girl, wasn’t the prettiest, wasn’t much of anything! So I began to read! Stephen King was my first love! I was somehow intrigued by his somewhat different perspective on ordinary events! And so my love for science fiction was born! I retreated into romance, sci-fi, adventure, thriller anything to help me stay sane! I truly felt I would loose it if I payed attention to home life! Unlike my previous step mom who made it obvious she hated my brother and I, our new recruit was more cunning! A smile when dear daddy was around, a vicious tongue when he wasn’t! I remember there was a time she asked me “tiri pabarika here”, meaning are we both your fathers wives! I have never forgotten those words! Needless to say, I retreated further into my shell! So did my brother, except his was a sign of something much more severe! Something if, had anyone bothered to noticed, perhaps may have been prevented! Alas, the bank manager was busy uplifting his career, the step mom causing misery, Pamela retreated into novels … And life went on … The usual bassle of every day abuse, tears, anger and retreat … Form 1! Not much to remember except that I met a dear friend, Theola … Whom till today remains my dearest and most treasured sisters … Form 2 …