The Despair Syndrome

Setbacks are never easy to bounce back no matter what others say. They erode a part of you leaving you with self-doubt and tons of questions and emotional turmoil.

When something happens you keep asking yourself “why me?” “Why did this have to happen to me?” and so many questions that fill your head  threatening to drown you, threatening to suffocate you!

They say you’ll bounce back and higher but first how do you get over this heaviness in your chest, this anxious feeling that’s weighing you down. How do you get over this fear that clouds your mind, that threatens to push you down a bottomless black hole. How do you stop your brains from overthinking the worst case scenarios.

Setbacks leave you with self-doubts often questioning your ability and capability. Often questioning who you truly are and is this for you. Often eroding your confidence in self.

Failure can be a bitch, a tough teacher leaving with you with this bitter taste and hopeless feeling. Often leaving you embarrassed and frustrated and disappointed with yourself. You find yourself questioning your ability, your inability, ending in this feeling of an impostor syndrome, making you feel like a fake, unworthy, a loser!

There’s a lesson to be learned but somehow you feel so hopeless, drowning in your own sorrow that you find it difficult to even learn the lesson that you have been taught. You are unable to see the lesson in it all. And somehow you are unable to learn the lesson you are meant to learn.

You’ll bounce back, they say, but when and how, is the question you ask yourself, a question you want to ask them, cause you are feeling so hopeless and low and you are unable to perceive an end in sight , apart of putting an end to it all.

You want to scream and shout and cry and let it all out, but you are unable to do so, cause you programmed yourself to appear strong and clam. But internally you are crumbling, you are melting, you are sinking in a quagmire of despair.

Though there are others around you, others rallying for you, you find yourself alone. You find yourself internalising your feeling unable to give it a vent, thus filling you with despair and pain, threatening to burst out and consume you in its flames.

But through this despair you try to find hope, hope that you can hold on to, hope you can cling on to. You try to find that hope that will keep you going and will get you through it all.

You know you can never give up, you will never give up, you will  continue to soldier on, keeping the faith , hoping for a better new day.

You know that giving up is never an option and the only time you will is when you’re dead. 

So you continue to soldier on, to fight through cause you know that as long as you have hope you’ll continue to fight through it all, it will keep you going on. You continue to hold your head up high and move on knowing you somehow, somewhere you’ll find you’ll find your way through!

The Crying Necessitation

It’s never easy to see the ones you love, the ones you care about the most, the one who mean the most to you in tears, let alone to hear them crying. But how prudent is it to try to stop them from crying?

It’s hard to see them in tears. And to just hear them  and not be there in person for them drives a dagger through your heart knowing that there’s nothing you can do, making you feel so helpless and blue.

But how right is it to tell them not to cry, saying everything will be alright, no matter how noble your intention maybe?

Sometimes the best thing is getting it all out of the system.

Just like when your stomach is upset from a thing that you may have ate, the best thing to do is get all out of your system so that you can start to feel better.

And so it is with crying, you need to get it all out of your system. 

You need to drain yourself of the sadness and hurt you feel in order to begin the healing. Cause when you keep it bottled up inside, it’ll curdle and fester into something unpleasant. And when it finds its way out, it’s never going to be good, amplifying into something much greater than what it should.

So let them cry. Let them get it all out of their system. Let them mourn and drain themselves of the hurt and the pain.

It’s not going to be easy. It’s never easy. It’s never ever easy to stand there and do nothing or say nothing. But in doing so you are doing so much more for them.

It’s going to hurt you so bad (but not as much as they are hurting) but you’ve got to be patient and let them cry. 

Be there for them, let them let out all that they feel. Be the ear that they need. Be the shoulder for them to lean on to.

But don’t tell them to stop. Cause sometimes in tears and sadness you begin to heal and that is the best thing you’ll ever do.

I Am

Well to quote ABBA

 “I’m nothing special, 

in fact I’m a bit of a bore”

You may think I’m good looking, 

You may think I’m hot

You may even think I am kind of man

You would like to date a lot

But then these are just “may”

And in reality your head says “nay”

Means I end up broken hearted a lot

I am the kind of guy 

Who’s very domesticated 

Who doesn’t drink 

Who doesn’t smoke

Who feels uncomfortable at parties

Who would rather sit in a corner

And watch others dance 

And mind it I can dance

A regular Sandra Dee

But I rather be sober and at home

Than at any party where I feel all alone

Even in a room full of people

I rather go to bed and get up at early morn

Right before the crack of dawn 

Than stay up at night and party

Like a hopeless soul

I am the kind of guy 

You would make love to in your head

You would text and flirt

And exchange explicit thoughts

Of what you would want to do 

together in bed

But when you get there

Leaves cold and unsatisfied

Causing you to let the relationship die

And leaving him wondering why

What he did wrong 

Leaving him shattered and torn

I am the kind of guy 

You would rather take home

To meet your parents

Than rather fall in love and date

Cause all though I am caring and loving

 And generous and kind

I may come across vanilla 

Not your typical kind

Who would attract you

Who would draw you 

Like a moth to the flame

I am not that kind of guy you would love in vain

I am the kind of guy

Who loves in the old fashioned way

Who’s not yet modern in his romantic ways

Who will be there for you 

When you need him

And will continue to be there for you

Even when you friend zone him

I am a kind of guy 

Who you could depend on

Who will always be there for you

Even if you lead him on

The guy who finds it difficult 

To read the signs

Who’s often left heartbroken 

Bruised and with scars 

But will still stay positive 

But will stay optimistic 

Inspite of the heartaches and pain

I am the kind of guy

Who rather be hurt than to hurt

Who’s rather feel anxious 

But refuse to loose hope

Who tries to see the good in everyone

And listen to everyone 

As they tell him what to do

Even though he knows

That they seriously don’t know him

Well and through 

Who tries to encourage, motivate

Be there for those who need him

But when he needs the support

Will find himself lonely and alone

Left to pick the pieces of life

All on his own

I am the kind of guy

Who will love with all his heart

Who will give all he’s got

Who will keep hoping and waiting

Who will keep anticipating 

Who constantly overthinks

Till he becomes an emotional wreck

But I am also the kind of guy

Who will never give up 

Who will pick his broken pieces

And try to heal and mend

Who refuses to stay bitter and complain 

And continue to hope

That one he will find the one 

That he truly deserves 

Make you feel my LOVE

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

Oh, I hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

When you feel the world crumbling around you

And you don’t what you need to do

Just call me I’ll be there for you 

To make you feel my love

You don’t have to bear that pain alone

You don’t have to let it fester within your soul

You can talk to me when you feel lonely and alone

Just to make you feel my love

The storm is raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing you off your feet

But I’ll hold on to you never let you get wet

You don’t have to travel alone

Or bear the burden of your cross on your own

I’ll be there to comfort and hold you

Just to feel my love

Just to feel my love!

ME

Don’t say you know me

If you haven’t run 

A few miles in my shoes

If you haven’t been 

To the places I have been

Seen the things I have seen

Don’t say you can read me

If you haven’t felt the pain I’ve felt

If you haven’t experienced my 

My joys and sorrows

If you haven’t ridden the roller coaster 

That I have been on

Riding the highs and low of life

Don’t say you know me

If you haven’t felt my fears

If you haven’t experienced my anxiety

The things that stress me

That leaves in tears

The heartbreaks and heartaches

The cold loneliness 

If you haven’t seen me at my lowest

Ans base your assumptions 

Just on what you see

Don’t say you can see through me

If you haven’t felt the darkness I’ve felt

If you haven’t felt the confusion I’ve felt

If you haven’t been through 

The struggles that I have gone through

the conflicts that make me loose my mind

That drive me crazy 

Don’t say you know my life

If you haven’t seen me hurt

Haven’t heard me cry in anguish

Don’t claim you know my life

If you don’t know where I am coming from

If you don’t know where I am going to

Cause that something i don’t know

So how would you know

Don’t say I am an open book

If you don’t know my inner secrets

The demons that I hold at bay

The fears that’s keeps me awake

The dark places I have been in

Don’t call me imperfect 

If you haven’t seen my scars

And know how the reason 

Behind their existence 

If you don’t know the reason

For my brokenness

Cause i am way more deeper

And not shallow 

As you assume me to be

You don’t know who I am

Cause I myself don’t know this ME

Someone I am discovering everyday 

Someone evolving every step of the way

Someone being influenced 

Being moulded and shaped 

With every experience 

So if I don’t know this ME

How can you claim to know ME

Goodbye... Once Again...

It’s a surreal feeling, in fact you really don’t know how to feel, or what to feel, that’s what makes it so surreal. The last time I saw her was when we were lowering her to her resting place (which wasn’t her final resting place), and now all of left of her were bones. I try to tell myself that this is just a physical manifestation, of what was left of her. Her soul, her spirit are long since gone, moved on to a better place, to always be with you.

She looks so light (at least what’s left of her) making you wonder if she was always this light. Those final days it was difficult to move her not because she was heavy but because with the progression of the disease to its fatal stages had afflicted her body unable to help others to help her. The sad state of loved ones dealing with various ailments.

There’s all this emotions welling up, threatening to burst to the surface, but you’ve got a lid on it, not because you don’t want to show the world your tears. Damn you are that guy who wells up so easily, gets emotional at the drop of the hat, but when it comes to situations like these you find it in your self to hold it all together, to hold it within yourself, not letting it out even if you want to. You just wished in these moments you had someone hold you and tell you that all will be alright. 

I remember smiling (not in a weird creepy way) in a warm way, as I stood there thanking the people who had come to support her. Finally when i found myself at his grave, I let myself go. Just wanting someone to hold me. Yes we men too need the emotional support, big boys do cry. It’s strange how we manage to find strength when we need it.

As we finally lay her down once more, in her what is to be her finally resting place, in the company of her her parents and siblings, I know she would be at peace, and in a way I know I will find peace, a closure. She’s finally home with her family (and one day I know I will too). But for now I am standing there with all these feelings and emotions, finally saying goodbye once more, knowing she’s got company.

A Question of Faith

He was a man of God, doing what God willed him to do, looking after his flock, then how could this happen to him. Hadn’t he done God’s will, then why did it happen to one of his own, his own flesh and blood.  The revelation had shaken him, left him confused, left him questioning his faith. He didn’t know how to react to it. He had an inkling for quite a while but chose to believe otherwise, chose to laugh it off. By secretly he prayed, he hoped that it wouldn’t be true, just a passing phase, which would over be before you know it.

But all these things were not meant to be, and what he feared happened. When his own flesh and blood came out to his family he felt his world shatter, he felt betrayed, and reacted rather harshly to the situation, to the predicament he found himself in. What would people say, what would the church say, they sure would have a field day gossiping about him. How would he keep his flock in check when he couldn’t do that for his own family?

The next couple of days proved to be awkward for him. He had no clue how to handle the situation and so chose to avoid his son, especially when they shared the same house, lived under the same roof. So they went for days without talking to each other, without uttering a single word to each other. But how long would he go avoiding him. They would surely have to face each other, talk to each other, after all this simmering tension was bound to come to a boil, it was just a matter of time.

Should he disown him as many had done to their children who had come out to them. But he couldn’t do this, he could never bring himself to do this, he would never do this. He was a good and obedient boy, loving and caring and respectful of all, dedicated to the works of the church and it’s mission. How could he do this to him, how could this happen to such a good boy.

One of his friend, in whom he had confided about his predicament, suggested Conversion Therapy to help his son find his way back and return to being normal. But was it possible to change the nature of a person, to alter it, and change their orientation? Was it possible to ungay someone? He doubted it, as he believed that such things were unscientific and not possible. So he was back to square one. 

When his son couldn’t take it any longer he decided to move out of the house. His coming out made him feel unwelcome, more importantly to the members of the church who refused to accept him, and the tension was tearing his family apart. He couldn’t see his family be torn and put through the ringer of emotions, so he decided to move out.

He was not very happy with his decision but then he really didn’t know what else to do. So he visited his mum. She sensed that something was not quite right and asked him about it. He told all that had happened, all that had transpired in the past couple of days and the conflict in his mind.

She listened to him patiently, and when he was done, she pursed her lips, which then broke into a smile. She ran her fingers through his hair as he rested his head in her lap. “He’s your son first, as you are mine,” she said, “rather than thinking about what the world would say, do what’s right for him, and at this moment he needs you, he needs his family.” She slowly continued, “What matter should be him. There’s nothing wrong with him, this isn’t his choice, where one day he wakes up and chooses to be gay. There’s nothing wrong with he chooses to love, and if he chooses to love a man there’s nothing wrong with it, nothing sinful about it, and we would need to accept it. Remember that God is love, and in love in all it’s form. Your family needs you, your son needs you, especially right now when he’s confused and vulnerable and scared, he needs his family the most, his father the most. So rather than thinking what someone would do, shunting him, making feel outcast, lonely and alone, ask yourself what would Jesus do and you’ll find your answer.”

He hugged her tightly and kissed her, said her farewell. On his way home, he closed his eyes tightly and asked himself, as his mother suggested, “What would Jesus do?”  And in that silence he found the answer to his situation. When he got home he went straight to his son’s room. His wife was there helping his son to pack. Her face weighed down by the sorrow she felt in her heart. He knew she had been crying the whole night, the redness in her eye betrayed her. The room was strewn with boxes and bags of things, stripped of all the posters and pictures that had previously adorned it. His son was putting some of his books into a box.

He went up to his son, and taking him by the shoulder, hugged him tightly, and they both began to sob. “You are my son,” he said, through the tears, “and I love you the way you are, who you choose to be. I apologise for reacting badly, but I promise you that going forward, no matter how tough the road ahead maybe, you will never ever be alone, your family will be there with you, I will be there for you. And though it maybe initially difficult for us, we will always be with you, by your side, no matter what the world might say. I shall love you forever, and you shall always be my son.” 

The Joke

You may not like my hair

Or the clothes that I wear

The way that I walk 

Or how I talk

But that’s who I am 

The one that you choose not to see

But you don’t deserve to see the real me

So the jokes on you

I may not do as you say

Or follow the rules that you lay

I am not going to meet your expectations 

Or even be part of your posse 

Be at your beck and call

Do what you want me to do

Cause that’s what I don’t want to

But in the end, the jokes on you 

You may label me

And call me names

Laugh behind my back

Make faces when I don’t look

Make me a subject of your wicked games

But you don’t get to crack jokes on me

Without trying to get to know me

But for every joke you try to crack

The jokes on you 

You may be critical about the way I am

Have something to say 

About everything that I do

But you don’t get to criticise me

If you don’t try to know me

For everything you have to say

The jokes on you

You choose to see 

Only what you want to see

You may see the smile

But never see the pain beneath 

Cause the vulnerable me

Is what you will never see

If you haven’t experienced my pain

Gone to the places I’ve been 

Or tried to walk in my shoes

You’ll know me, and for that

The jokes on you

You may use your words

Like a dagger

Slashing at me, 

leaving me all cut and bleeding

Never caring about the hurt you cause 

But no matter what you may try to do

The jokes on you

You may try to stick a label on me

Cause you don’t get me

Cause i don’t fit in the world you create 

Judge me, box me

Try to recruit me 

To be part of your communities 

Try to take away freedom

Clip away my wings

Cause though my body may break

My spirit shall always be free

And for that you shall never own me

Hence the jokes on you 

No matter you may try to do

The jokes on you 

Hope Restoration

He felt broken and shattered, shaken and bruised. He felt a growing anger as much he felt sorry for himself. The world as he knew it seemed crumbling around him and there was nothing he could do about it, no money in the world could give him the life he would loose, could extend the time that he had. He felt hopeless, in pain, a lost cause that no one could help, a sinking ship that no one could save.

She wanted to be with him, fearing the worst, fearing his depression would take a toll on him. But he insisted he was ok, he just needed time to process what he had just learned, he needed time by himself. So reluctantly she hailed a cab, while he smiled and waved back at her.

He wandered around for a while, aimlessly, not knowing what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, what was in store for him. He just wanted a way out of it all. He wanted a balm for the pain, cause he couldn’t take it any longer. He wanted a way out, he wanted anything that would numb the pain he felt. He wanted to drown out the voices in his head that screamed loudly, screaming for help, like a man drowning in despair, it screamed but there was no one there. He was a hopeless case, far from redemption, at a point of no return. He wanted to desperately put an end to it all.

He found himself outside a familiar establishment, one that he had frequented before, at times by himself, at time with company. Instinctively he entered. The place was filled with the regulars, the good looking people of the world coming there to unwind, have a drink or two, picking up and hooking up. He knew that no one would even give a look, or even a glance at a middle aged man who had aged a few more years in the past hour. The thought drove him even deeper in despair.

He made his way to the bar and asked for his usual. He sipped from his glass and slowly scanned the room as the patrons kept piling in, talking animatedly, till he locked eyes at him. He saw him looking at him from across the the room. He raised his bottle in acknowledgment and slowly made his towards the bar, joining him at the bar. He ordered for both of them and sat next to him, clinking his bottle with his glass.

They just sat there sipping their drinks not muttering much, asking and answering in monosyllables. They didn’t talk much but were glad for each other’s company. It became evident that he couldn’t keep his drink down from his slurring words and unsteady balance and droopy eyes. He could have left him at the bar and return back home to his lonely life, what was left of it. But something within him couldn’t just abandon him there. He was not sure if he was in state to give him his address, so he took a chance and brought him back home. 

As he supported him on his shoulder, guided him towards his apartment, treading carefully as he walked unsteadily. He opened his door and helped him settle on his couch with the thought of letting him spend the night there. As he was about to leave to fetch a pillow and blanket for his guest, he felt a hand pull him. “Don’t leave me”, his guest said slurringly, trying his best to find the right words to say. “Please sit with me for a while, don’t leave me like everyone,” he pleaded. So he sat next to him, just as his guest giggled.

“You know you were the first person I noticed in that crowded room”, he said rather groggily. “Yes, I did see that,” he said trying to get out of the situation as soon as possible, not wanting to start a conversation, already regretting his decision. “You know why I chose you?” he asked, “Why?” he responded half-heartedly not truly wanting to hear the answer to that question. “Because I wanted to kill you,” he said slurring through his words. Now this caught his attention, “why do you want to kill me and what would you get from my killing me?” he asked, trying to sound as calm as possible, contemplating his next move. In those moment he thought this was destiny helping him to put an end to it all.

“Because of this,” he said pointing to the marks that the needles had made in his hand. “But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t,” he said stuttering through his word, “you’re a good man and I am a good man and that is not who I am.” He was now swaying from side to almost falling down, so he sat by his side, holding him. The thought of calling for help crossed his mind but in the man sitting there he found a kindred spirit.

“I am good man, and all my life I did everything I could to make others happy,” his guest said with his voice almost cracking from the pain, “I always did what would made others happy.” “But are you happy,” he asked his guest, now getting into the conversation. “In making others happy I thought I would be happy,” he said sheepishly, once again slurring through his words, “I always believed that god made me to make others happy.” “But you know what”, he said with a drunken mischievous smile, “I think I have forgotten how to be happy, I’ve  forgotten what Happy feels like” he said and bursting out laughing as if he had just cracked a rather funny joke. 

“I have been in a dark and lonely place and this helped me back,” he said once again pointing to the needle marks on his hand. “I tried to make something of myself, pursuing things I wanted to do. But  in doing so I drifted away from the people who meant the world to me, I lost the people who cared for me. You know I have been alone for the most of the year. I have been in depression not once but twice,” he said now slowly sobbing, “but I made it through on my own, no one to help me out, I had me to rely on. I have no one, I am all alone.”

“Don’t you have family and friends”, he asked, finally putting his hand around his shoulder trying to console him, holding him. His feelings moved from fear to disgust, to pity, to sympathy, finally feeling his pain. “Who could I tell, I lost everyone I care for, when I moved away from them”, he sobbed, “I have no one, no one to care for me. Tomorrow if something were to happen to me I have no one who would care for me. I have lost everything and everyone, I have nothing, no one. I am broke and broken and in pain. I want it all to end.” He sobbed bitterly as he held him close.

“You know you are never alone,” he said as his guest who’s face was buried in his embrace. “You could just reach out and someone will always be there to help you.  Come now it’s late and you really must sleep,” he said slowly guiding him down to the pillow, tucking him in.

As he was about to make his way to his little bed to put an end to a painful day when he felt his hand grab him. “Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, “please be with me. I don’t want to be alone, not tonight. Could you please hold me and don’t let go of me.” 

So he lay by his side on that couch, holding on to him as he drifted to sleep. He was surprised how two lonely souls managed to fit on that couch. As he held him close, he could slowly feel his pain lift, like a dense fog lifting to reveal the things it concealed. He felt a weight lift from his heart, and made him feel lighter. He kissed him on the forehead not wanting to wake him up, he patted his head gently as a mother would pat her child to sleep. His eyes opened and met his, and leaned towards him. He could smell the alcohol on his breath, which should have ordinarily repulsed him, but he leaned forward and met his lips, pulling him into a warm embrace.

Now it was his turn to breakdown, to sob. As they lay there, in their embrace, they anchored each other, preventing the other from slipping into the depths of despair, giving each other hope as much as soaking in it. They lay there in each other arms, kindred spirits, bound by the pain they felt, the loneliness and despair, the hopelessness. They found a soothing balm in each other’s arms. Destiny seemed to have conspired and brought them together in the most unlikeliest of ways.

The next morning, after showering and having breakfast, he dropped him off at his place, placing some money in his hand, much to his protest, and promising him that he would never ever be alone again. As he sat the wheel seeing him go, me began to sob. He took out his phone and called her. “Hello, where are you? Are you alright?” came the voice on the other end of the line. “I touched someone,” he said trying to get a grip on his emotions, “and in doing so he touched me, I found the hope I needed.” He sat there sobbing, not for sorry but for the hope that now filled his heart from the hope that he gave.

All Quiet Uptown

She sat on the stone bench in the rain. It was all quiet up town, with only sound being the patter of the rain. She sat quietly by herself staring into space. The quietness was unsettling but it was what she needed right now, to find a little bit of peace and quiet, a little time to herself, to find herself.

She seemed calm but there was storm brewing within her. She felt all grey and gloomy like the weather around her. She appeared strong and collected but inside she felt shattered and falling to pieces. She was grateful to the rain cause it helped cover up the tears that streamed down her face.

What she would not give to see him once again, to hold him in arm once more. She would willingly trade places with him in a heartbeat so that she could have him here, in this world.

She had been so consumed by herself, her grief that she was guilty of ignoring him, though it had been unintentional, and now he’s gone and there’s nothing she could say or do to make up for it. She was so consumed by her pain, her grief, her betrayal that she didn’t see that he was hurting too, he felt betrayed too, shattered and heartbroken.

She saw him from her distance. He had betrayed her, broken her trust, brought her life crashing down on her, the partial cause of her pain. But the man she noticed coming towards her was broken, shattered, drooping. Gone was the ambitious and pompous man she had known, in its place was a grieving soul who had aged more with the pain of the outcomes of the past day. She thought she would never bring herself to forgive him for what he had done to her, but now somehow she felt sorry for the man who was coming towards her, cause somehow he was in the same boat as she was, sharing her grief. 

She had chosen him despite of he was, his short comings, his ambitiousness. Her family and friends had warned her that he would end up betraying her, hurting her, and he did as they had forewarned. She would never ever forgive him but now was not the time for it. They needed each other, they needed put aside what had happened between them and be there for each other in their moment of grief. 

He joined her on the stone bench, siting besides her,  holding the umbrella over her head providing some respite from the rain. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arms around her. They were two lonely souls bound by grief. Together they sat on the bench staring at the spot, the grave where they had just buried their first born.

An Awakening

She was beautiful to behold with looks that could anyone’s breath away. She was the apple of her daddy’s eye, the thorn in the eyes of her rivals and the object of lust to her many suitors. She was a combination of beauty, charm, wit and brains, and used it to her advantage. She was not born with a silver spoon but knew how to use her beauty and charm to get her way, to get what she wanted.

She craved for a life of luxury, of no cares for the world. But above all she craved for a high standing in society, leading her to spurn many a suitors who coveted her attention but didn’t meet her expectations. She finally married for the money to a man way older than she, handsome for someone of his age.

Though she had all the riches which she craved for, she felt an emptiness in her, a loneliness. He gave her all the luxuries she desired but what he didn’t give her was love. He treated her with respect but seldom paid her any attention, and of love he didn’t give her any. She tried to console herself with the thought that she had all the riches in the world but all she felt was a sadness that her beauty and Love was given to a man who had no use for it.

She thought of a boy she once knew, a young strapping lad who loved her with all his heart inspite of her vainness, and she found herself falling for him despite of the walls she built around herself. But like all her other suitors, she spurned him too cause he couldn’t give her the life and social status she wanted. She thought about the passions she wanted to pursue but had abandoned in her quest for riches.

She wondered how did she ever let her life get way from her, how did she ever get this way? Was she tired or was she just lazy? Where did life go, had she she sacrificed her happiness for a life of luxury? Had she sold her soul for it? She buried her face inside her hand and began to cry, a prisoner of her own vanity.

He married not of his own will but of the the will of others. He was surprised when she agreed to marry him, considering she was young and beautiful and he was way older than her. 

He felt no attraction towards her, he felt no attraction to any women at all. He had long since made peace with his preference, burying it in a singular focus to be successful and rich, especially knowing that his family would never accept him for who he was, would never accept his choices. He knew they feared ostracisation, being knocked off their self-made pedestal. So he went about living with a mask on dodging the question of marriage as long as he could till he couldn’t take the pressure anymore and finally gave in. 

He couldn’t love her like husbands should. Her beauty captivated him but he  couldn’t love her. He could provide all the luxuries of the world but the one thing he couldn’t give her was love. Out of a sense of guilt he let her have whatever she wanted never once questioning her. He had befriended loneliness and continued e to be friend with it.

Though they shared a bed, a room, a house, a last name, they were strangers to each other living under the same roof. They tried to consummate their relationship in order to further the family name but had to abandon the act when things got weird, awkward and uneasy.

They were two souls in a loveless, tortured and unhappy relationship but never once wanting to the end the union, giving up the lives they were living. They were prisoners of their own trappings.

In the midst of their turmoil he came like a breath of fresh air, a whirlwind that swept them from the lies they were living. A stranger, a distant relative, who initially felt like an intrusion, an annoyance, but by and by he grew on them. 

He was everything they were not, everything they hoped to be, which was what took them by surprise, made them envious, made them distrustful of him. He was free spirited, an open book, what you get is what you see. A person who lived life openly on his term. He flirted with both of them, to their annoyance and later to their flattery.

She was the first to let her guard down. In him she found a companion, a confidante, a friend that she lacked. He helped her see the folly of her materialistic views and helped find a life she once knew. He encouraged her to shed her materialistic ways to pursue a life she had abandoned, a life that brought her true happiness. He made her feel the way she used to feel. He opened her mind and brought about a change in her.

He took a bit more time to come around. This may be due to that fact that he was unnerved by his mere presence, envious by the fact that here was a person who wore his preference on his sleeves, who was unashamed and unafraid of who he was and open and unbashful about it. He was all that he was not.

He tried his best to keep his guard up but he couldn’t help but find himself being drawn to him. He would find himself staring at him, and when this was noticed he quickly averted his glance. This lead to him being hostile and curt towards him. 

One evening, while he was strolling through the garden, trying to get him out of thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and his heart skipped a beat. He was standing there, trying to confront for his hostility towards him, asking him he did anything wrong towards him. 

And in all this he just could notice his lips, his face, and in that moment he let his guard down, grabbed his face and kissed him with all the passion he felt. When he pulled back he expected a punch on his face but was surprised when he kissed back. It was like the floodgate was open and passion and emotion like water flowed.

When they finally parted, he began to sob in his arms. He felt ashamed, exposed, emotionally naked. This was who he was, no more mask and all. He embraced him and kissed him once more and told him that there was nothing wrong with him, nothing to be ashamed of cause this was who he was. He encouraged him  to be himself, to be true to himself and to her.

She had observed them from the balcony that overlooked the garden. She saw all that transpired. It took her by surprise but she didn’t feel hurt or betrayed, instead there was feeling of relief that a curtain was lifted and what was behind it was there for all to see. 

They met in the hallway, initially not knowing what to say to each other. After a bit of hesitation they broke down in each other’s arms. For the first time they embraced and really meant it, for the first time they had a heart-to-heart conversation. They had an awakening to each other. That night one relationship ended but a new bond took root. They agreed it was the best they go their separate ways.

Couple of months later they divorced amicably, bringing an end to their marriage. However they stayed friends, their bond stronger than it ever was. He supported her passion, her career endeavours, providing her valuable advice and emotional and financial support when she needed it. He was shoulder for her to cry on, lean on, through success and failures, good times and bad times.

She in turn was his rock who stood by his side especially when he came out of the closet, providing him the courage and strength that he needed at the time. Unwavering and unflinching she supported him.

They found success and they found love and they were happy content with life and for each other. They no longer had to live a made up life.

As for the stranger who acted as a catalyst, who brought about an awakening, well after while he said farewell to both of them. His job was done and now he had to return back to his life. 

In the end, they were in their on way, content with the lives they now lived, their very own happily ever after.