Love sometimes hide…sometimes to love, you have to search a little harder, dig a little deeper, look a little more…
With that thought, please say a prayer for our missing girls. Here’s hoping the hiding places where they are, are soon brought to light and we get them to bring them home safe and sound.
#BringBackOurGirls #BringBackOurBabies #BringBackOurSisters
My friends tried to get me to redesign. To change the wall papers that screamed silently of the passion I shared with her; to give away the curtains we played hide and seek with; to have a yard sale for the dining table where we laughed, shared meals, made love…
I told them that while they were at it,they might as well transplant the organ beneath my left breast.
I left everything the way it was.
She came home one rainy night.
I couldn’t tell her tears from the raindrops that fell from her hair. I met her by the door and held her till my clothes were as soaked as hers.
I carried her just in case she changed her mind; toweled her dry while kissing every inch of her skin. She pointed to the spot beneath her breast; where her heart was and said to me with pools of tears in her eyes “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
I held her a little tighter.
I watched her breathe all night and envied the air that she breathed. I wished she needed me as much as she needed air. I wished I could enter her body at will like it did. I would seek out the spot beneath her breast and no respiration process would ever disengage me from where I called home.
I made her breakfast and kissed her hair as she laughed over my soggy eggs. She teased me about how nothing had changed. I told her how I dreamed she would be back and how I didn’t want her feeling strange among furniture or things that had changed. She looked at me, pointed to the spot beneath my breast and said “So long as it doesn’t feel strange there, then it’s fine”.
I wept all over again and this time she did the holding.
I waited till the third day, when she was comfortable and everything felt like home again before putting the tiny box in the fridge, next to the cups of Greek yogurt she liked to have for breakfast. I placed the box in the fridge and waited till it was morning. It was the only hiding place I could think of. It was the only hiding place in plain sight.
I followed her as she made her way from our bed to the kitchen for breakfast the next day. My hands shook as she opened the fridge. She would find the yogurt first, and then the box. It took a while for any of it to register; and then she put the box down and started to cry.
I would do the holding this time and her tears would soak through my pajama shirt straight to my heart.
“Is this a ‘Yes’?”
“It is forever.” She would reply.
Love hides; but only in plain sight. And sometimes right beside plain yogurt.
Song of the day: Maxwell – For Lovers Only