When a girl says she misses someone, what does she mean? Enjoy
I’m suddenly jolted up from sleep by the rude rumbling of the thunder, lightning still flashing as the sky-roar rolls off the distant hills of the Jos Plateau; then the heavy downpour of hail. It’s really cold and I shiver slightly as I reach out to grab the duvet.
On nights like this, I would let you pull me close and would immediately feel safe sleeping in the warmth of your embrace. We were two peas in a pod and felt each other so deeply. Lovers? Friends? Soulmates? Undefined? Defined? Whatever the case, we WERE. I carried you in my spirit and you felt my every pain before I even spoke. We had so much passion and barely needed mere words to communicate, we KNEW. Caring, giving, sharing, feeling, fulfilling each other,we LOVED.
I pass a glance at you as you snore lightly and proceed to wrap the duvet around my body. It’s not as comforting as you but better it than you. I miss you, even though you are right here by me. What’s different?
I remember when you asked me that question: What’s different? I’d just suggested to you during shower hour that we needed to examine why we weren’t feeling each other like we used to and your question shot out of the blues and straight to my heart: What’s different? Where would I begin? The volunteering to do the dishes after a particularly stressful meal? The occasional fashion advice as we prepared to step out and conquer the world? The phone calls to my family every weekend? The random visits to my place of work to surprise me? You completing my sentences with my thoughts before I was through? The twinge of slight jealousy when I told you of some new male in my immediate environment?
If you hadn’t even noticed something had changed, how could I make you see? How could I make you feel the loss of my partner in crime? A slap in the face would be better. I know how to respond to those. But this? This is beyond any efforts I can make. You wave me off when I tell you my fears for the future and my tiffs with my office mates. It will be all right, you say. I know it will, but the uncertain how is what scares me. It is what it is, you say. But what is it exactly? Do you know? How could you? You weren’t even listening till the crux of the story.
Maybe I talk too much. Maybe I think too much. Maybe I want too much. Maybe I expect too much. I’m not sure. But, one thing I am sure of: I miss you Kunle.