Day 12: Things I Want to Say to An Ex

Day 12: Things I Want to Say to An Ex

I will make this short, because well, what is there to say to an ex anyway?

I don’t remember exactly when people stopped asking weird questions about exes which sound very stupid by the way, but when they finally did, my healing journey started. And no, I wont lie to myself, not even to you. I needed healing because of the amount of emotional torture I underwent throughout the so-called relationship, because I only left just before the torture turned physical.

So, picture this:

Person 1: Na siku hizi hua sikuoni na Mr. X. Kwani mliachana? (I no longer see you guys together. Did you break up?)

Me: Hapana. Amekua mfupi siku hizi namueka kwa handbag. (No. He grows shorter by the day so I just carry him in my handbag)

Person 2: Na Mr. X kwani umemuacha wapi leo? (Where have you left him today?)

Me: Ulikua unamtafutia nini? (Why are you looking for him?)

Person 2_: Hakuna. Kujua tu_. (I just want to know)

Me: Sawa. Ukimpata uniambie pia mimi nijue. (Let me know when you find him)

It took me quite a while to finally admit to people that we had broken up, amidst their gasps in disbelief. And I think word spread so fast that the questions suddenly stopped.

A few months after I started this blog, this ex stops me along the way, and I am mature enough to listen to him, even though I know there wasn’t any sense he was going to make.

Him: I see you became a writer.

Me: You did not know I was a writer? All that time?

Him: You were the silent writer back then.

Me: And so?

Him: You know, I used to read your blog posts until I started feeling they were about me.

Smh. Si he could just have said that I write well. And that it gets better every day. And he couldn’t stand reading all the beautiful stuff and imagine that I was gone, just like that. And he was stuck somewhere with someone whose very idea close to a conversation was “umekula?”, “nisongee tulale”, “Uniote.” Clearly, shame doesn’t come dressed in a black overcoat.

So, down to things I want to say to an ex:

In case you are wondering, I still walk slowly, much slower than the way you used to hate. I still don’t stand being called a bitch, boyfriend or not. I still have more guy friends who still call me every now and then, and I do not step out of the room to talk to them. Because that’s just what they are; friends. You remember those three you hated most? The ones who liked weed so much you wished they could go crazy? Those with the most sarcastic laughs I am yet to come across? Those whose conversations you couldn’t stand in my phone?

You are right. They are still there. They still laugh. They still love weed. Unfortunately for you, they are not crazy. At least not yet. I still hug them when we haven’t seen each other for quite some time, and the hug lingers on for longer than you hated. In fact, one of them, the tallest among the tree, still lifts me off the ground every time we hug. I used to hate being lifted off the ground, but once I realised the amount of torture it subjected you to, I instantly loved it. See how emotionally damaged I was back then?

I still cannot cook ‘tumbukiza’, or whatever you called that mess. That was injustice to beef. At least to me. And I couldn’t be part of it. But sure as hell, I still make the best pilau you will ever come across.

You remember how you said my sarcasm was a pain in the ass? Well, I haven’t gotten rid of it. Not that there are any plans to. How could one possibly hate sarcasm anyway? Unless you always had a hard time figuring out the humour behind it.

And yes, I still get stares and compliments when I wear dresses. You remember? Those that revealed my ‘luhya legs’ and a little bit of thighs? Yes, those ones. I added a few to the collection I had. And they make me feel better. Again, who is this guy that hates it when people say his girl looks amazing?

Oh, yes. I am still as bossy as I was. I am comfortable with all the energy that comes with it. And the respect I attach to it. I don’t get things done my way all the time, but no matter the case, the level of respect is always the same.

Thank you for letting me know that not all alarms that go off at 5am are real. Some are little girls sending nude pictures so that you don’t have trouble ‘getting up’. Thank you for teaching me, in the hardest way possible, not to lend any cash to these eye candy men in the name of boyfriends, no matter the number of times they say ‘nitarudisha next week’. In fact, they get all defensive when you try asking for it several months later, saying how you are taking advantage of them because they are ‘poor’.

My friend, si hata ungejifanya umesahau! I would have assumed you were suffering from amnesia if you had managed to pull a nice stunt.

Also, thank you for teaching me that there is absolutely NO point in trying to bring happiness to someone who is suffering from inferiority complex. Did you even know that? Well, when someone feels that their only sense of identity lies in your shadow, they slip into denial and unknowingly try to drag you into their mess. And healing is impossible for someone who is still in denial.

And no, I wouldn’t take you back for whatever reason. Those are fairy tales. This is my life. It is nothing close to a fairy tale. I am not giving you another chance to dim my spark and drag me down to your level. That is too much feet down darling. I love it up here.

And contrary to your word, I found someone else…ha-ha. How could you even think you were the only one I could date? Aje sasa? Dude, I think we tried and failed so terribly at it, and sometimes, a girl needs to find herself some warmth. So yes, accepting and moving on is not just a term used by Jubilee supporters to their NASA counterparts. It exists!


See you tomorrow!


Subscribe to get new post notifications:


comments powered by Disqus
Meet Eunniah Mbabazi
Eunniah Mbabazi is an Electrical and Electronic Engineer with a deep passion for books and literature. She has authored Breaking Down (a collection of short stories), If My Bones Could Speak (a poetry collection), The Unbirthed Souls (a collection of short stories), and My Heart Sings, Sometimes (a poetry collection). She has also co-authored Kas Kazi (a novel) and When a Stranger Called (an anthology of short stories).

Get in Touch