Saying Sorry...

Saying Sorry is a collaborative work of fiction between myself and one of, in my humble opinion, Kenya's amazing bloggers. A passionate and profound individual, I find his words to be captivating and very inspiring. This is a testament to his ability to move people with words. It was an honor and a pleasure working with him. Though I will keep him anonymous, I hope he will be able to receive the accolades from those who read this story.

...

Dear Nate,

Sigh. Where do I begin? I can't seem to shake off that feeling that something's amiss. With me. With you. Or is it with you and me?

Today you take me out for frozen yogurt at Junction. Planet Yogurt is empty so we have our pick of seats. I am so excited about the whole experience that I cannot choose which flavor to sample. Yes, it is that much fun, and no, I am not apologetic about being a kid. I know that this treat must have been difficult for you to save up and I enjoy it all the more.

At one point I catch you staring at me.
"What?" I ask you.
"What, what?" you respond.
I smile at the absurdity of the conversation.
Nate and I. Friends for forever. Lovers in our souls.

Many times, I catch myself staring at you. Dimpled cheeks. Wide grin. Tousled hair. Sometimes a slight frown. "Stop frowning," I say to you. "I'm not frowning," a look of surprise on your face. I laugh. I am happy.

Then.

I don't understand the distance. Am I reading too much into the situation? Why are you sitting across the room when you normally sit next to me? I want to tuck my legs underneath yours for warmth. Why are you erecting again the walls that I struggled so hard to pull down? Why are you shutting me out again? Can’t you see how much I need you now?

I see you looking at me as if you want to kiss me, but at the last minute you turn away. And at that moment you miss the flash of hurt in my eyes. Am I that difficult to show emotion to? I know you feel it too. I have seen the light of vulnerability in your eyes many times and, as soon as you see me looking at you, you erase it. A man is not to show any signs of weakness. Have you forgotten about loving me?

Then.

You kiss me. The world stops. At least, I think it does. Do you know I can feel your heart beat faster? Can you feel mine racing to catch up with yours? You taste slightly of coconut and chocolate. Bounty. Your musky scent engulfs me. OMG. Where is the couch?

Then.

I can't understand why we are standing here in silence. You are looking out the window. I trace your spine and you stiffen. I can’t get through to you. I leave. No words. No affection. No kiss goodbye. Where are you Nate?

xxxxx

Dear Nina,
It is exactly one year today that you sent me this letter. I have read it everyday wondering how I will ever reply. Words fail me. I should have replied when I was a free man, just before they came for me. Everything I did was to save our relationship. You told me you were pregnant. I will never forget that day - the idea that a life inspired by me was growing inside you overwhelmed me; when I placed my hand on your tummy trying hard to convince myself that I could feel the bump. Did I ever tell you how it was whenever we parted? I kicked myself, hated myself. A man in a dilemma. No job and a child on the way. A loser. Life has been one huge gulp of lime and brine. The little princess, Cindy, is 7 months today, no? Does she know who I am? Is she beautiful? Does she have your eyes? Mine?

This week, they finally let me live with the other prisoners. My stab wound is healing albeit slow. My cheekbones look like dark soap dishes. I have developed a rash on my skin [it is very unhygienic here]. They let me enjoy twenty minutes of sunshine everyday. It seems the sun is the only thing left to share.

Remember our last night together? I wanted to tell you but I wasn't man enough. How can a man tell the woman he loves that he is going away and may never come back? It is why I stiffened when you traced my spine. I wanted to run away from you. Escape from all that was happening. I saw the look in your eyes after we kissed. You knew. You'd watched me walk away so many times and you knew the look. You cried but this time I couldn't comfort you. I was in a big mess. I knew they would find me. I will never say I didn't have a choice in doing what I did. They say I shot the guard at the bank. However futile this sounds, I hope you'll believe me one day that I didn't do it. I would never hurt anyone. I was there for the money. It is all I took. Nothing more. Not a fellow human being's life. I wanted a better life for you and our baby.

There's never a moment that I don't think about you. I wish I could undo what I did. I wish she could grow up with a father; ever present.

You swore you'd never visit me. I can't blame you. 35 years is hard for anyone to wait. I choose to pay for my mistakes hoping that as time soaks your tears, you will find heart to forgive me. I have only two things to ask. I hope you can move on with your life. Find a good man (there are lots of them out there). Love him as you did me and you won't be disappointed. Kiss him with your soul. Allow him to be a man and push him to succeed. Heaven gave the right you to the wrong me. That I accept. Secondly, please tell Cindy when she grows up, that I was a good man. I messed up but I was a good man; that I loved her before she was born and always will.

My heart still bleeds for my girls. I am there with you in spirit. I would want you to believe that they might let me out on pardon but the chances are almost non-existent. I miss the lazy days when we were both jobless and carefree. Going to the movies at night, not to watch but to wow at the posters. Tell my daughter that a man is a man not because of what he can give but for what he can take.

I know it's pointless to wish, but I hope we'll be together one day. May God grant us the chance before it's too late. Remember our bedside picture that you said was your favorite? Look behind it. There's a picture of a place I always wanted to visit and directions. Please do it for me and take Cindy with you. Take care of my daughter.

IF ONLY...

Jennie, Marcus, Serah and Tom.
Four people. Four different lives. Four best friends. And yet...

Jennie was nice. She'd always been nice to a fault. Everyone said so. But Jennie didn't always want to be nice. In fact, if she had her way, she probably would be vicious. A bitch.

Marcus was the rich one. He did not understand the meaning of hard work. He was born with a golden spoon in his mouth. That's how rich his family was... or so everyone thought.

Serah. She was synonymous with mediocrity. Average looks, average height, average intelligence, average grades. Her life even was just average. She could well get lost in the masses. All that was about to change.

Tom. A god stepped down from the heavens to mingle with mortals. He was so handsome, it was nearly sinful. Girls had always done different things to get his attention: offering him free sex, declarations of undying love, and so on. They all had one thing in common: they each wanted to be the Mrs. Tom. Yet Tom had eyes only for her.

Four unlikely friends. Yet, ever since their first campus day, they have been the best of friends. This is an account of their lives seven years after they met.

Jennie worked as a counselor. Having studied Psychology and French, it was a fitting career for her as she was empathic. She was engaged to be married to Sam, an up and rising business man who loved her immensely. Her life was picture perfect, and she acted the part out, but just below the surface, her resentment was brewing. She felt that she was living someone else's dreams. No-one, not even her three best friends, understood this.
Throughout her life, she had been the perfect doormat. She had studied psychology because her parents thought it fitting for her gentle nature. She had always wanted to study Music and Composition, but her parents were adamant that no child of theirs would study something so fickle in nature.
She'd met Sam at a club one night when the four of them had gone out. He struck her as an ordinary guy who she wouldn't have remembered the next day or even cared to, but as fate would have had it he was intrigued by her and wanted to meet up again under less crowded circumstances.
And as the adage goes, the rest was history. Sam charmed everyone around her. Her parents thought him wonderful. Her best friends thought him fabulous. Everyone said she was lucky. She liked Sam, but that was it. She just liked him. Why she had agreed to date him she still could not answer. But no-one asked that, except herself.

Marcus had gone into the family business after he graduated. To him, campus had been an opportunity to live the life. His saving grace had been the fact that he hated failure, and that he had a natural aptitude for business, and so worked hard enough to pass with Second Class Honors in Business Administration. Working for his father at first was an extension of his campus days. He would come to the office late, sometimes not at all. His father, fed up with his lazy son, issued an ultimatum: get serious or get packing. Marcus chose to get serious.
So he began working. Slowly but surely he picked up his pace. It wasn't easy, but he did it. After a while, he became invaluable to the company.

Serah worked as a Personal Assistant at a prestigious law firm. Her grades in Law had been, as was expected, average. She grasped the first opportunity that came her way which was to be the PA to one of the senior partners at Munyoki and Mburu Advocates, albeit the fact that it was not her ideal way to begin her career. But, ever the optimist, Serah believed that the job would help her network and eventually open up doors for her.

Tom, after campus, had opened up his own business. He had studied Art and Graphic Design and opted to do consultation. Business was not bad; he managed to pay his bills and save up a little every month. He still had woman issues; this time they were his clients. Sometimes a contract would be used as bait in return for favors. What they did not realize was that Tom was a man in love. He loved her with his all. To him, there was no one else. The only problem was that she did not know it.

to be continued...

I still am changing

So after indulging myself in my latest addiction, A Day in a Dog's Life, I started really thinking about life. Michael's post, "How to Pray for Dummies" got me contemplating about life, love, God and everything else in between.
Someone significant to me got me thinking about where I am today in every aspect. A lot has changed in my life. Change - I now look at it as a building block as opposed to positive or negative. For once, change to me is just that - change. I has affected profoundly who I am and what I am becoming, but I no longer beat myself up and try to measure myself against the impossible standards that exist in my mind.
I am still changing. I am still growing. I try to understand more. I try to feel more. And everyday is a gift that I appreciate. Living for the moment allows me to savor and taste every morsel of pleasure life has to offer. Enjoy every moment of bliss without regret. It was once said, never regret that which makes you smile. Wise words to live by.
And before I go to bed I ask myself, "What made you smile today? What made you laugh out loud, genuine delight shining on your face?" And I scribble something in my diary for me to later reminisce upon.
Like this little delight here.