Today, I beat the beautiful gong of one besotted by the sirens. But it sounds out the hollowness that comes with the sad realization of the truth that freedom is not always found on the easy path… This is my story…
Panda
I thought it was freedom. The first time. The sound of it emanating from our core in one, loud expression of pleasure.
It came from her in short, sharp, contracting spasms… and from my lips in the form of an epileptic sigh of release.
Ah, ah ah…ahh… aaaah…
Freedom
From the trappings of a life which I don’t know how I got into.
But this isn’t the end of my story. Or the beginning.
It begins with one glass of tequila knocked back in frustration.
One shot to knock away the bad taste her words left in my mouth. To quench the thirst gathered from running away from her issues. I was tired. So I ran here.
The fighting, the yelling, the disrespect… a man can handle many things his woman may do, but when she doesn’t respect him?
The glass dropped to the bar table, and the next round was shared with you. I still don’t remember how we got to that point. Who said hi, who offered to buy that drink. Who asked to exchange numbers … I remember, at some point, telling you about her.
But I guess you didn’t care. One call led to the next. Late night texts about nothing important. The talks about sex went nowhere. I wouldn’t betray her. Even amidst her fuckery.
You said you understood.
We could just be friends.
Right then, I should have walked away.
But I liked it. The attention. The laughs. The connection. The respect. Oh…what a difference…
I should’ve walked away.
My people say “Na from clap, dance dey start.”
We were clapping to your tune. The sound of it pulling my feet to dance astray, to break free from this prison. Pulling, slowly. Pulling, surely. Pulling my body into a sway. Until…the dance began.
And we danced. O, we danced. We…!
Ah, ah ah…ahh…aaahhh…!
And so it happened, and went on…emotional needs satiated by physical deliverance.
And I thought it was freedom.
Till this release became a prison in itself. The need for you. I started to need you.
I never felt it coming. Didn’t feel it in your voice when you said I couldn’t stay over cos you had to work in the morning. Not when I got more entrenched in you.
Now you tell me you’re done. “I’ve had my fill and now it’s time to clear the dishes. Don’t look so morose. We had a good time. I just don’t need the drama. You weren’t alpha, you certainly won’t be omega.”
Those were your words right before you shut the door in my face this morning.
This morning, as I came to tell you that I’d told her about you, and I was ending it…
Breathe…breathe…breathe…
What have I done?
Two children … no pre-nup…
What have I done?
Suddenly, I don’t feel so free…
Panda writes here. Do visit.
Get out of my journal
lol
LOVE LOVE LOVE this line:
‘And so it happened, and went on…emotional needs satiated by physical deliverance.
And I thought it was freedom.’
Great post and hope you find someone new who can give you respect and allow you to keep your freedom
Thanks mami….
Nice One. A Veritable Paradigm Of A Wordsmith In Action…
Lol. Never been called a “wordsmith” before… thanks man.
You’re good. I like this. I just wrote something about not thinking before you act, and well, thinking would’ve helped in this case. But life can suck sometimes, sha. Again, this is nice.
I like this. It’s so deep and just…wow. Really good. Awesome work 🙂
I love! Maybe you shd go apologize to wifey,in Nollywood movies,that always works.
Panda,I bow at your throne of skillful writing.
Chinny I’ve decided that you just want to find someway to make me blush abi? Which one is throne ehn? Lol.
thanks babes.
Panda, oh Panda! I love how you write; how you make the story yours..
I love this right here- “The sound of it pulling my feet to dance astray, to break free from this prison. Pulling, slowly. Pulling, surely. Pulling my body into a sway. Until…the dance began.”
Oh, and the goddess is beaming! She loves visitors!
Aint love a b**** I love the end of this piece an AKWARD moment that’s sure to linger! I don’t feel sorry for him sef *Ntoi* Good stuff though (y) for the writer
Great story Mr Panda
I love this piece… Using sumthn as an escape only 2 become imprisoned once again. Panda, nice 1!
Love ur writing style…The story drew me right in….from tentative foray into the world he thought was freedom into the ultimate prison
Clap for ur self but since “Na clap dey turn to dance…” Pls help ur self start dancing. Love dis 1 (Y)
I enjoyed reading this, was very captivating. A bit too theatrical, but still lovely 🙂
Wow….
Well written
How incredibly unfortunate, but how brilliantly told! Love the imagery, and how easily you slipped from the bar to the village square (my people say..), and the metaphor that took us from dancing to sex.. Love
Love.