Days
turned into weeks, weeks to months and just like that a year had gone by. The
incredible thing was surviving it and coming out on top. Worst part was having
loved and lost my then true love, Gathoni. It was a whirlwind.
I
struggled because I never got closure. I didn't know what the cause of our
break up was and neither was I able to see her again. I tried everything I
could to reach her but I wasn't able to. My parents told me that they had tried
engaging her parents, but to no avail.
If I
was being honest, getting through the break up wasn't easy at all. In that time
I fully understood RnB songs and how they painted break ups to be absolutely
depressing. Slowly but surely recovery came.
As
time passed I came to some sort of peace about it and forged on. The
sting faded and miraculously I was able to get back to being me. Living, seeing
the sunshine and feeling something other than hurt. Whew! I serve a
living God! I say miraculously because I had loved deeply and never imagined
loving another like that let alone losing such a love.
My
parents really played a big role in the journey.
From
emotional support to being present physically and spiritually... like the whole
shebang. They helped me in breaking the information to the wider family
which in the African family context isn't easy.
They
shielded me from a lot of fiery darts and pacified the wider family on how they
approached me. They did it so well that we actually ended up becoming closer,
as an extended family on both sides, which was and still is beautiful. I
remain forever indebted to them.
So
what does the future hold in store? Who knows? :-)
All
I know is I need to get up early to prepare for Uncle Mwaria#Storyteller's surprise
birthday party tomorrow. Catch you then? It's a date.
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