Some of us have decided to entirely give up on the so called love— or perhaps the so called love decided to  give up on us.
Whichever way the giving up came, we know Cupid is still feuding with us and still insistent on never giving us the satisfaction of experiencing love hence the need for us to use other resorts to land ourselves true happiness.
I read somewhere that, being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart feel true pleasure — I think Bob Marley said that. Just maybe he is right, but why be vulnerable only to experience a fleeting emotion that probably wouldn’t last and leave yourself feeling all the pain the world has ever known there off— it simply does not make sense!.
Maybe it has nothing to do with love and everything to do with the people our “sycophantic” heart chooses to beat for. You find someone who professes their undying love for you only to rig and unplug your from the life support they render you.
It is just not fair and healthy but this and many other wrecks have refused to leave the world.
This is no fiction, a narration of a friend who could be on depressing pills and at a very bad place emotionally all in the name of this infamous and overly rated love.
She found love and kept it, forgetting that love chooses who they stay with.
Torn, broken and slapped with all the shades of heart aches, she finds herself living in an unwinding labyrinth of mirages beating herself with questions a lot of us equally do not have answers to.
Yes! we have read books and seen movies, listened to music and watched people paint this perfect picture about love— but the question is, does it exist and per whose definition?
Read her narration:
Love was the last thing on my mind after a stressful break up with my first guy. I tried to entertain myself and be entertained by others ( happiness come from within they say right?).
Watching movies, listening to songs, and when I say songs, I am not talking about the uplifting kind that is capable of illuminating light through my cracked window.
Songs here means heartbroken, sad songs that made me beat my entirety to nothing— disparaging my existence and rueing in failure just to discourage boredom and depression.
I met a dark young guy at a workmates solemnisation, there and then the chemistry of LOVE begun.
We were all over the place, dining and whining like couples till we departed to our various abodes.
Fast forward,two years after, we decided to reconnect and rekindle our fascinating story which got many wondering if it was true or just a satire.
He proposed, I accepted because the connection was so strong that I couldn’t deny myself the opportunity to experience LOVE.
At this point, I would say I was using my heart and not my head. I was fooling myself in disguise without knowing, I fell in love with his voice, skin tone and stature. Oh yes, his stature was all a young lady of my calibre could want.
We begun the journey which should have been one of no return—I gave my all, body, mind and soul.
I was completely lost in his world, I fell for his skims. I acted so curious like a kid who doesn’t no right from wrong and the proverb ‘curiosity kills the cat’ was true, and this where I’ll say ‘LOVE IS BLIND’.
We partied, shopped from dresses to shoes, groceries to jewelries. We stayed all night chatting, laughing, crying and having enough of each other. Families smiled and seemed proud of us, hoping for a better and boastful tomorrow.
Till he showed me he was a prophet of doom, and this where one will say ‘all that glitters isn’t gold’, some are not even close to gold dust for what is worth.
Little did I know at the back of the bloom and sweetness was a man clad in deceit. I felt pain like a homeless child, pain parcelled in starvation..
I denied myself the opportunity of being healthy, my world was falling apart and my mind was already like a maniac patient in the asylum.
I aided the destruction of myself by the prophet of doom.
I finally had to seek medical care from Holy trinity Hospital, I was diagnosed of severe depression and was prescribed with Amitriptyline
I did my best to be better, friends came in and consoled me. All this while, prophet of doom was having good fun with his new mistress.
I asked him if he was seeing another lady, he boldly and immaturely said he needed time to answer. Don’t be surprised because looks can be deceiving, he proved how cowardly he was.
I stood my grounds and with the help of God, I slowly let go of the burden I was carrying.
Maybe I did something that provoked this excruciating outburst but this was coming from a man who had sworn heaven and earth to walk me down the aisle.
The truth is we were literally married , we just needed to sign and have one pastor bless the union . I washed and cooked for him, crowning my wifely duties with bedroom ecstasies .
Perhaps the infamous counsellor Lutterodt is right after all—maybe if I had listened to one of his many spewing of hogwash, all this could have been avoided.
He came back after he had squandered the little cash he had with his mistress, I warmly received him,  fed him and gave him money for transportation back home.
He could have pleaded  with me for a come back but his pride and ego, was ahead of his thoughts. Prophet of Doom is wallowing in pain and shame, I smile today knowing I made the right decision of letting him go.
But I have since found it extremely if not impossible to break this mental bondage. The phobia of loving the wrong person has been a dreading nightmare.
The what if’s and maybe’s would not leave me be. Maybe I need to know if love really exist and if the answer is in the affirmative, can a warm soul lead me to its doorstep?