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IF I ASK YOU TO REMEMBER ME
On slow Tuesday in 2015, the sky opened and it poured for the first time in a long time. I watched you sigh in relief like finally the gods have remembered us, I watch you sip the hot Milo tea smiling into the grey sky darkened by clouds.
“Baris if you go to your husband’s house, would you still remember me?”
I asked in fear of losing you, losing the parts of you I had just for myself.
“of course!, I'd never forget you Grace”
you smile but I saw the lies, I saw the deceit, I saw how much I had lost you.
it's been almost 7 years and I finally saw you again on a hot tuesday, Your eyes tired and empty like a shell of who I knew. I saw your body has weakened but you still look graceful. You tell me about your child, he's 4 years old and your husband adores him. You tell me you miss me, you say you're sorry we fell apart and that you'll keep in touch, you follow me home to know where I live and I invite you into my bedroom.
You stared at wall of photographs filled with us and I saw it in your eyes, a glimpse of hope. I saw you want me for a minute and then you kissed me, I held my breath and I stood still feeling the tenderness of your lips on mine.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry Grace. I……. my husband……. urm… I should go”
you turned and I asked you to stay, I asked if you love him, I asked if he treats you better than I did.
I asked you
“If I was a man, would you have married him instead of me?” my heart ached and I fell on the bed broken.
“grace we are Nigerians, women don't marry women here” Those words! those words hurt me more than the time I broke my finger when we were 12, and we climbed the tree beside our neighbor's house for native mangoes.
“would you still remember me?”
I asked wet eyed and tired of loving you, I wish I didn't.
“of course grace, I'd never forget you”
you smile and I saw the lies and the deceit, I watched you leave. but In another world similar to ours. I'm coming home to you and women marry women in Nigeria, you don't look so tired and worn out. You still dance at 2:00am to stupid songs on the radio, and you smile so hard and when you say you'd never forget me.
You mean it, you actually mean it and I believe you also no bad thing happens on a Tuesday.
© Hope
“Baris if you go to your husband’s house, would you still remember me?”
I asked in fear of losing you, losing the parts of you I had just for myself.
“of course!, I'd never forget you Grace”
you smile but I saw the lies, I saw the deceit, I saw how much I had lost you.
it's been almost 7 years and I finally saw you again on a hot tuesday, Your eyes tired and empty like a shell of who I knew. I saw your body has weakened but you still look graceful. You tell me about your child, he's 4 years old and your husband adores him. You tell me you miss me, you say you're sorry we fell apart and that you'll keep in touch, you follow me home to know where I live and I invite you into my bedroom.
You stared at wall of photographs filled with us and I saw it in your eyes, a glimpse of hope. I saw you want me for a minute and then you kissed me, I held my breath and I stood still feeling the tenderness of your lips on mine.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry Grace. I……. my husband……. urm… I should go”
you turned and I asked you to stay, I asked if you love him, I asked if he treats you better than I did.
I asked you
“If I was a man, would you have married him instead of me?” my heart ached and I fell on the bed broken.
“grace we are Nigerians, women don't marry women here” Those words! those words hurt me more than the time I broke my finger when we were 12, and we climbed the tree beside our neighbor's house for native mangoes.
“would you still remember me?”
I asked wet eyed and tired of loving you, I wish I didn't.
“of course grace, I'd never forget you”
you smile and I saw the lies and the deceit, I watched you leave. but In another world similar to ours. I'm coming home to you and women marry women in Nigeria, you don't look so tired and worn out. You still dance at 2:00am to stupid songs on the radio, and you smile so hard and when you say you'd never forget me.
You mean it, you actually mean it and I believe you also no bad thing happens on a Tuesday.
© Hope
