In the words of Tamia….
You look just like the man in the picture by our bed,
I’m checking your clothes and you wear the same size shoe.
You sleep in his spot and you’re driving his car.
But I don’t know just who you are …
There’s no way you could be who you say you are, you gotta be someone else.
Because he wouldn’t touch me like that, and he wouldn’t treat me like you do.
He would adore me, he wouldn’t ignore me, so I’m convinced there’s a stranger in my house.
Last week I told you how we needed to pay the kids school fees.
You snapped at me and yelled you had nothing to give….you were flat broke.
Didi gave me a call just last night, she saw you with the boys,
and heard clearly when you said “Drinks are on me boys” It’s my treat.
It makes me remember our little one of three years back…
Only 3 hours we had to share.
We didn’t even get to name him….he was there and then he wasn’t.
You did not talk to me for months after that, your silence accused me and branded me guilty of murder.
I wanted us to share our grief, but you would have nothing of it.
I had lost a child too you know, yet I could not grieve, you would not let me grieve.
For if I did, who would have taken care of our 2 year old daughter?
You screamed at me when I cried three days back,
Asked me to grow up and quit acting helpless and stupid.
In your words “So what if you lost the job is, life happens to us all doesn’t it? Deal with it”
I really was going to deal with it; I guess I just wanted you to care,
After all, I’m you wife for heaven’s sake.
I miss having you listen and tell me words that I already know.
Not because I can’t tell them to myself, but at least, then I know you care.
My friends and family tell me I need to be strong, after all they warned me ahead:
“He’s always been selfish and immature and the present pressure is more than he can handle”
“But don’t act like he’s a different man….he never changed you know”
Part of me hates that they’re right…Part of me refuses still to accept.
So, here I lie in the dark, your silent snore the only thing I still can recognize.
The tears don’t fall but my heart bleeds in many places…
It’s a pain I’m becoming used to.
I know I want more, I deserve more than you offer me right now.
And if you’re really honest with yourself you’d agree that I speak the truth……
Writer: Nkechi Ajayi is a blogger, architect, lover of God, life and music.
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