“You sure are the only one who cries when they’re sleepy.”
He had laughed and his voice had felt like a warm bath after rain has beat the body.
“There should be many like me.”
“I have my doubts.”
He had laughed again and after a few pleasantries casually walked away; with half of her heart and her mind. She would not stop thinking about him. She could not. Is it not true that the heart never obeys the mind? That conversation became her favorite music. Because if the heart obeyed the mind, she had never loved music anyway to have a favorite one. She would be with her father discussing her application to Harvard and her favorite line from her favorite playlist from her favorite artist will be on repeat endlessly.
You sure are the only one…
And she would never even know his name; this musician. When she does, she would never be certain it is his. The heart is an endless trap; her heart, leading her into the arms of a love she would only know for ninety days.
“No woman has ever made me feel this way.”
It didn’t matter how they ended there. They were slowly making their way into his bedroom and he stopped short on the way, pinning her to the wall somewhere and feeling her all over like the police searches in movies. No woman will ever make him feel this way. She told herself over and over again. After he had plunged into her and made her say things she never knew could escape her lips. After he had stood her before a mirror and let her see all the wonders another naked body could make yours feel. After he had turned her over and told her that it was okay. While the pain surged through her she still could not tell herself not to believe that no woman will ever make him feel this way.
“No man will ever make you feel this way.”
The blood came but she knew no man will ever make her feel the way he did. And no woman will ever make him feel the way she made him.
“I’m doing this only because you will feel like you never have.”
“Like I never have?”
“Like you never have.”
She was laying in between the two of them. The new one had her front and he had her back. She was not sure of all this but she knew she will feel like she never has. Six weeks later, she was expecting to be a mother, thrown out of the only home she’s known, cut off financial support, he had stuck to his word and showed up. He had hurried her into this town, into this little room, made her feel the way only he could, broke the head of the bed somehow and he had not come back. He never would. It was always about the feeling with him. She was sure she did not give him enough of what he wanted to feel. She smirked, a smile line breaking apart her pressed lips.
When her eyes opened, they were wet. She cleaned them. They were merely part of the nostalgia. She sighed and smiled. But soon, she hugged her pillow and wept. She knew indeed that no man will ever again make her feel this way – the way he’s left her feeling. Only she wished her father did not leave his own feeling in her, the way he had stood there silent, shedding tears for the death of a daughter he will have to bury alive in his throat – never naming her. If he had hit her, if only he had touched her. Now she had to live with the touch of a foreign man. She felt her stomach, climbed down unto her knees and clasped her shivering palms, please make her not allow any man ever make her feel this way. The rain still beat the aluminium roof, continually staying.
Hope you did enjoy this short story. Also we’re a quarter into the year and these are what I’ve been reading so far. Check them out and comment on the post with what you are reading. Feel free to leave any book recommendations for me. Have a lovely weekend.
©Awo Twumwaah 2019.