This letter is copied to all the boys masquerading as men; men who mistakenly think they are God’s gift to women; to husbands who don rings yet do not understand what being a husband entails; and every married man who is a disappointment to his wife.
Remember when I was single? You noticed me in a crowd of good-looking women, and singled me out. You confessed to need me like the air you breath. When I hesitated, you bought me the most expensive jewelry, money could buy. You promised to treat me right, and painted a rosy picture of perfection if I consented to your pleas. You claimed we belonged together and insisted that I completed you.
When I proved hard to get, the poet in you was awakened, and you spoke words that went straight to my heart. Roses are red, you said, and then you sent me red rose flowers. I received your cards every other day, my birthday, Valentine’s Day, name it, saying you were thinking about me, loved me, and to wish me a good day. You seduced the senses out of me till I could not think straight. But it felt good. It felt good to believe that I was your only reason for living.
I was not yours yet, but whenever I was in distress and needed a friend; you were by my side. We would talk for hours. The best part is that you listened when I spoke. You took me out on weekends; many are the times you forfeited your favourite game, just to be with me. You looked into my eyes, and listened to me when I told you my dreams, and plans for the future.
You promised you would help me achieve my dreams. You brushed aside my fears when I thought anything was unachievable. You convinced me that I was up to any challenge. You nudged me to reach for the stars. You saw in me what I did not see in myself. You believed in me and in turn, made me believe in myself.
You insisted that my future with you was bright, and that I would never lack a thing. You threatened to punch anyone that messed with me. When I cried, my tears bothered you a lot. You wiped them away, and assured me that everything would be okay.
With so many phone calls, text messages, and constant ‘nagging’, I thought; ‘maybe I should give him a chance’, and so I did. You were happy when I accepted your proposal. So cute. Now we were an item. A couple. You and me. This is where my loneliness was supposed to end.
I was in hook, line and sinker; just as you wanted. Little did I know what I was in for!
Now that you have me, I have to remind you of my birthday. Ironically, I fight my own battles! You do not see me, and I have to struggle to even maintain eye contact with you. The woman you fell in love with is buried deep inside me, but you do not see her anymore. For your information, I am that same woman, only immensely disappointed.
You do not listen to me; neither do you support my dreams. Even though I support you, you refuse to help me achieve my ambitions.
You are curt and cold; you don’t talk and don’t care. What will it take for you to care? What will it take for you to listen? What will it take for you to take me as the centre of your world like you did before?
Isn’t it strange that, now that am supposed to mean even more to you, I don’t? I have your second name, I take care of you, and our children, and I am there whenever you need me. But ironically, I am not as important to you as I was, before I married to you!
Married but lonely is what I have become; even though we share the same house and meal each day. We are strangers.
No. Single and lonely is much better.
I miss being single, so that you can do the things you did for me before you had me. So that I can get that feeling I got when you said sweet things, and treated me so special; like I was all you needed. Single and lonely is better than married and lonely, don’t you think?
This article was first published on East Africa In Focus