Like a Thought Process

I came here to make you smile. There’s something about the way you smile that knocks years off my bones and turns me into a reckless teenager again — the kind that forgets composure and just stares. You really need to see it from my side. Thirteen thousand, six hundred and forty seven feels like an absurdly big number when you say it out loud, yet I still find myself grateful for every single hour I’ve been allowed to place you inside of. And somehow, in the middle of all that counting and remembering, the simplest truth keeps repeating itself without effort: I love you like a mad thing. If God is not wonderful, then nothing else deserves the title, because loving you has felt like proof that wonder still exists. I think about you and end up asking questions that have no business needing answers. Where did you come from, honestly? How does someone just arrive and rearrange another person’s entire sense of certainty like this? My Sunflower, understand this — I love you. And if that feel...

The night was too loud with silence, so I left the room without moving. In the distance, Me and I began their usual quarrel. I do not claim to have understood all they said — only that they spoke, and I wrote. --- I. Shadows Stir The gods did something tonight, they listened. They heard everything I said and I felt a soft wind brush the earth, permit me to add that I do not hallucinate... I felt a confirmation within my soul and knew something had taken place, had changed. Chasing shadows, I remember the love of my life, a ghost. Existing yet, not so relevant. One could call her as beautiful as a lie and as valuable as a dream because even children are entitled to dreams... I did something unusual, I smiled. --- II. Of Desire and Dust From basest desires, man is a slave of want. Each man to his own cravings; what drives you, what is your creation? Of course, go forth and multiply. When God told this... When God told this... As arrogant as the fly that followed the king into the casket....

 “I know what you've been trying to do. You need to study me before I get the job, right? It makes sense, but you see, I'm different. My mind tells me things. Let me tell you what makes me sad. I hate the fact that I've always had to commit one fraud or another before I can become 'rich,' so to speak. My life has been one rollercoaster of hell to another, and the beautiful part is I don't know how to blame others for my mistakes. It has always been my fault. I was referred to you, wasn't I? Someone told you I'm smart—that's the reason for the meetings these past three months, right? I'm not smart. If I was, I wouldn't be this sad.” “This job though, it sounds interesting. It's a change from the illegal stuff. I don't like to need anybody's help, and life is boring. I like to believe I'm good at studying people. I know you are too. Don't imagine I said too much—you know me well. When do we begin? I'm ready.” It was rare...

 We had just left the airport that afternoon. He was unusually annoyed - I had learned to not ask him what was bothering him. While we were waiting at the airport, he just looked at me and said "find out what happened to Sambo." He was annoyed - I did not want to ask any questions. I had to go to that bar along Aniocha south. Delta state was in a weird position at that time. I went to watch the world cup - I honestly had no interest in football, but then an instruction was an instruction. I ordered a drink I did not need. I held it. I just knew someone was going to approach me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed the lady with the flaming red hair staring at me. Everybody kept cheering at the match... I had no interest. I remember Segun telling me that Nigeria was losing. The idea with social interactions is that - as I always tell people, I don't know how to do them. The lady, as I came to know her name later was Binta walked up to me and said Somto did not kill Samb...

 Be it the moon, the stars, the surreal clouds by night. Be it the sun by day, the passing angels, and the feeling of serenity in the air then. Be it the content feeling of beauty from fulfillment. Be it the true warmth of a mother's love to her baby... None of this, except God’s infinite mercy, can compare to what it feels like to have you, and how much happiness I want to give you, save for the promises... I love you, honey. You're my woman, my everyday crush, my everyday love. I miss you, boo— every day, every passing second, every heartbeat... Maybe you should count yours. I love you... A lot Maybe it's childish to wish you'd take up my name. Maybe I’m only a dreamer, 'cause all I really see is marrying you, and I know I’m not up to the task yet. Maybe I just want you too damn much, even when I know you’re mature and see life from a more direct angle. Yet, I don't just see you as someone I want to make my lover, my girlfriend, my wife... ...

I will tell you I love you every chance I get. I will tag it in the skies, write it in the clouds, send you a congregation of angels to sing it to you, reshape every mountain that's high enough for you to see into a heart. I will say it everywhere— to everyone who cares, and those who don't care to listen. I love you... so, so, so much. I don't mind if loving you is the one thing that brings out my inner child. I don't mind. I wanna spend eternity with you—talking about forever. I wanna be with you every waking moment, especially after a stressful day of money-making. I wanna grow old with you, retire into your arms, lay my head every day—every single freaking day—on your bosom, listening to your heartbeat, 'cause each beat, I know, says you love me. I love you, without restraints... you never forget that. I miss you, and I fucking hate this distance. I love you so much, bae. Even though it's not all I have to offer— I do, sincerely.

  Note to Bae Mine is a very troubled mind—a very, very troubled mind. But I refuse to base me and you on what I’ve been through. Sure, I will tell you my darkest fears, my deepest worries, show you how many storms rage in my head, and give myself completely. Yet, outside promises—just stay. I want to know all there is to know about you, but then—stay. I don’t want to know your secrets only to have you not in my life in the future. I have dreams, goals, a future to design... It would be beautiful if you stay and build with me—the troubles, the fun, the success story no one can compare, the stories nonetheless. Stay a little longer—now and always. If you ever get scared and back out, I hold it not against you. I miss you when you’re not there. I love you, without restraints... unapologetically. Queen of hearts? No. My woman is no queen— she is a goddess. I could spend my whole life telling you you're beautiful... because you truly are. I do not love you—no, my sweets, you’r...

My fair maiden by the river, my love. My princess up in the castle. My heartbeat. My first love since the world ended, the one my future was shaped after.  My woman, my super woman. The fair one I looked upon from the skies, my golden goddess. I know the stories of the ones kissed by gods and made immortal. She kissed me and I felt in my heart, like the beginning of eternity. Maybe life is a bed of roses. I found my Rose and life started its rebirth. My everyday crush, my sweetheart. Marry me. I am a poet but what poetry is as beautiful as you are? Marry me, please. I love you...like a young one in love, perfect, flawless, indulgent, fresh.  My beautiful Rose. How everyday, I long for you in my arms, your head on my chest, your lips on mine half the night, my eyes to feast on you unclad, my hands to comfort you round while we stare at tomorrow in the distance, my soul wrapped around the true love you have for me.  My one and sure. Let it ring, let it, upon the rocks of et...

 She doesn’t know… That thoughts of her are the one thing I look forward to—waking up, going through my day, and even in my dreams. That I miss her even if the space is just a second. I never stop breathing, because every time I pause, I miss her. Maybe I could say I live for you, Shae. You don’t know just how much, at this point, you mean to me. I long for the taste of your lips, I wish upon you in my arms, asleep, your heart wanting mine. I’m often seen as a dreamer because I often want more than people understand. But you’re not just a dream I have. You are completeness. My life craves that right now—save for order, balance, and purpose. I miss you, so damn much I’m beginning to not understand myself anymore. Allow me to dream for a moment… I would, would God let me, move mountains, shift tides, cross the skies, send to you a chariot of clouds just to have a moment with you. But in truth, I just want to always be with you. Wish I knew… On second thought, I don’t wan...

 She made her mind up, said a lot with her smiles. She told the truth and just kept going with the stories. You know those stories—the ones where she didn’t know how to say “I love you” back, but my heart yearns for you too? Maybe she was shy. She was and still is beautiful nonetheless. I love her—this girl. She knows, maybe just not how much. I have these sleepless nights, my usual amnesia, but now I spend most of them thinking of her. When morning comes, after a few hours of rest, I still wake up with her the first on my mind. How is she doing it? Why do I want to know? A product of the Rose of Sharon—Sharon-Rose, my Rose. Smile. Let each heartbeat tell you I miss you... Are you listening? Let every breath you take remind you that I said I love you... Maybe let it play in your mind every time you breathe... Now stay alive. Breathe. I miss you, Shae. Don’t know how you did it. You’re an amazing woman—don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Though, honestly, for someon...

 I really want to type you something beautiful—it's not writer's block. No, not today. I’m just not sure how best to tell you that your eyes are beautiful—crystal-clear magnificence. I don’t know how to say I have no restraint over my mind when lusting after those beautiful lips. How do I describe the puppy-softness of your skin and how it takes me straight to the doorstep of that future I sincerely crave? You see that voice, that tenderness... I keep losing words to use. What would it take for one like you to fall in love with someone like me? I am no romantic, but you are the beauty in words, the sweetness in dreams. My fingers move toward words whenever I think of you... Why would I not write?

Let's try it this way: On the one hand, love from family is obligatory; parents would be doing their children a criminal disservice by not loving them sincerely. You do not know or understand why you love your siblings so much, no matter what, but you just do. On the other hand, love from your "true" friends, partners, spouses is earned because—why would anybody decide to drop their guards, their inhibitions, for one human being? Why would anybody look at you and decide: I choose this one? How in the world are you worth it? The thought process would be: how can you compare the love of family to the love of seemingly outsiders? That is exactly the thing—your true family has known you since the very first day, and they have always chosen to stick with you no matter what. Yet think about it—a total stranger takes one look at you after you were born and decides they want you in their life as a friend, partner, spouse... for life. Don’t you think it’s mind-boggling? I had a di...

Having had to listen to Wole's heartbreak story that morning, I did not think the day could get any weirder. For context, he had been dating Lucy for a year. They both seemingly complemented each other, and it all looked good. She flew out of the country to get married, just a month after they started dating. If there's one thing I’ve learned about dating, it’s that it is overrated if you don’t actually intend to marry the person in question. I managed to console him, and the call from my boss was all I needed to get out of the "situation." I am not, and have never been, a social person. "We are flying out of the country," he said. "I am not packed, or ready," I replied. He went silent for about fifteen seconds, an indication that he was almost getting irritated. I’ve worked for him long enough to know that silence was the warning before the storm. "I will make arrangements," I said, killing the silence before it stretched too far. ...

 MY DILEMMA #ART… I know how to be stupid; I have incisions to show for it, as well as every day of my life. I do not know true happiness; you should see the walls of my heart. People say things to hurt me, with the perfect reply on my tongue; every day I die inside. Every day, every single day is a nearly impossible feat – I do not know how to stay awake, behave, and be human. They say a man is supposed to lose his child and “behave like a man,” I hold my ground and say, exactly how does a man behave?