In Remembrance: A love letter to our time together

By Duchess Rita

Today, seated in a matatu heading home from a busy day at work, I could not help myself and remember of the days that we used to travel together. I remembered how you would alight at a near place and I would have to endure the long journey home all alone simply because I lived on the other side of town.

I used to love those short-lived moments of pleasure and delight when we used to hold hands and hide them in between our seats so that the rest of the passengers could not see and condemn us for being gay. The times I used smile at you after having had a great day with you and how happy you made my heart, a joy that could not be contained or measured,

I remember how your hand would accidentally touch my thigh and act as if you had nothing happened, and you would do it again this time slower and you would look at my reaction for I had to contain myself for we were in a matatu full of people.

Darling, I remember of how I would tell you how much you made me the happiest woman of how I would tell you “nakupenda” right before you alighted the mat and you would smile at me and say you would call me as soon as you got home. I remember of how we used to hold hands tighter when we almost got to your stage because we didn’t want to let go of the other and we simply couldn’t get enough of each other? Of how I would always complain that the journey to your place was always shorter when I was with you?

On this long journey home, alone, tired and worn, I can’t simply forget how you were the light to my dark and my shield to my own demons, but I beg to ask was I ever good enough for you? Is that how we grew apart? Didn’t I help you deal with your demons? Didn’t I say I loved you often? Or is it because simply our hearts were not meant to beat to the same rhythm?

As I draw closer to my home and I am happy to reach my destination because now it will be a while before I think of you, the stroll down memory lane over. For now. For today.

Maybe this is my healing process, the less I remember you the more I forget that I loved such a beautiful woman.

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This is a beautifully written piece. I love how it captures the hidden but romantic gestures.

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