Good morning, love.
I am sorry, dear, but I am tired. Of hoping, praying and holding on. Of wondering, wishing and staying strong. Of crying, whining, feeling and wanting you around.
I’m sorry, but that’s just how I feel.
Good afternoon, my love.
I hate the rain and the depressing cold, the sun with it’s unbearable heat, the blue sky, the savory aromas wafting my way, the green grass, the chatter and human presence around me…
I liked it a bit yesterday. But today, I hate it all.
Good evening, sweet love.
I am growing weary of this constant display of affection, the money you place in my purse fortnightly, all our midweek adventures, our love scenes in the wee hours, the way you hold me after…
Mostly, though, I have worn my imagination thin from all this wishful thinking and daydreaming for time and space have been utterly cruel to us.
S. Ogugu 2012