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TO A PRECIOUS ONE

Storried To A Precious One
– By Chinasa Purity
Dear Precious,
How are you? It’s Chioma, your school sweetheart (I hope you don’t throw this letter away at the sight of my name). I choose to believe you only have good thoughts about me as I have of you.
I write to tell you things I should have said to you when I had you but didn’t because of my pride. You are a rare gem. Since the three years we separated, I’m yet to find a man with your level of care, tolerance, and attention towards me. Most men I’ve met are so forceful; bending me to their will because, as one always reminds me, that he is ‘the man’ and should always have the final decision mindless of whether he is right or wrong.
For instance, my recent Ex, Pole (nicknamed because of his height) who let me stay in his house when I was stranded, knew I wanted to wait, yet would consistently force me into a romantic battle. My struggles to push him away were useless with his full weight pressed against me while his arms held mine down firmly. He didn’t care about my plea, didn’t care that I complained that he was too hard and hurtful as he rubbed it against my unexplored area. He would say to me after releasing all over me, “You want it! You are just pretending not to.” “Be grateful I didn’t force ‘it’ inside you!” I couldn’t even scream through all this cause I was ashamed of what people would say about ‘the girl who went to live in a man’s house’ if they found out.
Storried To A Precious One
This experience got me thinking about you. Just like with him, I was also once stranded and needed a roof over my head while we were in school and you gave me yours. Force wasn’t your thing; love was. You were patient; kissing me only when I wanted to be kissed and loving me the way I wanted to be loved even in ways I never knew a person could be loved. Your friends have mocked you because of me, but it didn’t change you. You were not a people’s person – you just wanted me. The annoying thing to you, as I later observed was that I never really acknowledged that love you showed towards me. The more you gave it the more I felt entitled to it, and the less I returned it.
That day I left your house I lost a part of my soul – you. We had an intense argument, so I packed my bag and left, deaf to your pleas. A part of me wanted you to run after me and drag me back into the house, but force is never your thing. I was disappointed because I’d become used to you always being the one giving and pleading in our relationship. After then, though things changed, you still continued to give but with a bit of caution because I had hurt you. Your trust in my ability to love you disappeared. I noticed this and grew irritated because I no longer got what I wanted from you. I cut you off from my life thinking you would call so we could make things right, but you didn’t. I lost you.
You didn’t deserve me. I wasn’t a good receiver of your love; I took it for granted. I’m sorry. All I can say now is “Thank you” for showing me, true love. I miss it – I miss you.
I yearn to see you again; call me, please.
Yours forever,
Chioma.

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