“He was trying, you know”
My mother said, walking into my room, silently.

“I don’t care” I said.


“Ma, I waited for countless birthdays

I waited for endless conversation.

I waited for him, all the three time I decided to marry someone else.

I hoped for him.

I dreamt of him, walking into my life as quickly as he left.

I am 40 now,

I was 17 when he left.

I cannot forgive him.

Not now. Not ever.”

” But tell me, my love¬†will your heart ever forgive him?” she asked.

“No, it won’t. He was my first but I do not expect him to be my last, not anymore.”

” Should I call Shania Aunty and tell her you wont be attending the funeral then?”

Eyes dry. Mouth open. Breathing slowly.

“Yes Ma.”




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