18 July 2012


He called last night, drunk as usual. He said many nasty things. He blamed me for everything that is going wrong in his life. Blamed me for his drinking. Blamed me for the break-up he had with his last girlfriend. As if I even knew he was dating. Blamed me for making him want me but not have me. Drunk, he said nothing that made sense. Called me all sorts of names and pushed in “Honey” and “Sweetheart”. Shamelessly, he paused and said “I Love you”. Then he coughed from the drinks he had taken in the chilly night. I hope you choke and die, I almost say.

He says that we should talk things out; we should make up and be a couple again. He is my past, I tell him, and he had the chance to, but betrayed me, broke my heart and went for another girl. We dated for two years; it took me a whole year to get over him. When I finally move on and heal, he dares call me. How dare him, HOW DARE HIM! 

I am feeling depressed. I had just come from a prayer group that had turned to one-hour blame game, arguments. I am feeling crushed, the weight of the world in upon my shoulder, and then he dares call.
I take my phone and dial the first number that comes to my head, no answer. I try again, no answer. Where is my best friend? Now I feel so devastated, desperate to talk to someone. My friend texts, but by now, the devastation has turned to anger. Anger towards myself, for not being able to compose myself. Angry at myself for not being able to express myself. Angry at my ex for breaking my heart and ruining my night. Angry at my best friend for not picking my call.
I switch off my phone, switch off all my lines. I don’t want to talk to anyone anymore. Its 1 am. I slip under my covers and try to get some sleep. I wake up in the morning. Its 6.45am, am supposed to leave the house by 7. I take a quick cold shower; I dress up hastily, at 7.10 I leave the house. I get to the eating hall, confusion. People complaining endlessly. The cooks are on strike, there is no breakfast. Damn! I am already late for work.
I go away without breakfast. Who needs food anyway? As I walk to the bus station, it hits me. I did not talk to God.
As I walk, I say a silent prayer, a prayer so silent that I can barely hear it myself. Will God hear my silent prayer?


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