Call it a falling in love…
…because I traded my “thinking with my heart and loving with my mind” idea with a “thinking with my mind and loving with my heart” mentality.
I let go of all my fears and embraced my wishes. I ditched keeping an eye out and became a “Sleeping Beauty”, I allowed my mind the privilege of resting.
I think I fell in love.
I think I’ve always wanted my life to be perfect and my fear of getting hurt turned me into a knight, always on my toes and too cautious to even let my guard down.
No guy could have ever attempted to try me out, I mean no guy wants to feel like an enemy in their own relationship.
So it wasn’t until I decided to swap my protective armour and steel boots for a dress and a pair of heels that I finally found my Mr Right.
My Prince Charming.
Not only did he rescue a damsel in distress but he also swept me right under my feet and had love knocking me down.
I mean no one can ever raise me to the same height as he has, no one could have me close me eyes and have me feel the world move around me.
…or hold my hand and have waterfalls flow right through my spine. No one could smile at me and have me naming stars theirs.
He came into my life and had me believing that the moon was made from cheese, that with every “I love you” we say to each other the universe gives birth to a new star.
I know I fell in love.
With an incredible human being, a work of art. I think the word perfect never existed until he was born. With a smile that melts my heart and sends the juices to the moon and back, eyes that send chills down the spine of my soul making my spirits’ knees weak and a personality that sends electrical sparks that confuse the loving sh*t out of my brains?
I fell in love with amazing person.
God’s master piece.
Call it falling in love because I tripped, fell hard and became the happiest person alive.
My imagination said: “Recently I’ve found myself crawling through the days of our lives,
Trying to reach a point where I actually love you and it hopelessly feels like a journey with no end.
It’s happening again, our
ASTHMATIC RELATIONSHIP has reached its ‘End By Date’.
At this point you have earned your spot to fall in line with your kind and name yourself a ‘Once Upon A Time’.
One of the temporary beings in my life.
A has been.”
…but my stubborn heart is holding on to yours, my body is renovating the feel of your touch on my skin and my mind is rewriting memories of you and they just seem so alive and simply current.
Reality keeps striking me and I have to let go but my being won’t give up just yet.
…I thought I didn’t understand why this was happening but today I learnt and understood where it all comes from.
I still love you and I’ve given all of me to you but fear keeps playing mind games and doubt is busy telling me that love never really existed.
Today I learnt that Cupid wasn’t stupid when he shot us with the same arrow.
See…when Zeus separated us and Cupid’s arrow helped us find each other?!
The heavens smiled because they simply knew that we were meant for one another and that we’ll always be together.
If only the universe had granted me powers of creation and named me Goddess the creator, I’d build the man of my fantasies.
In the image of “isthandwa sami” I’d create him.
With toffe-nut ice cream lips I’d create him.
I’d give him a lavender infested smile to fill the room with a motherly aroma every time he lays his eyes on me.
His eyes would be of pearls to make me fall deeper in love every time I stare into them.
His voice would be as relaxing as classical sounds. Matured mentals of your Beethovens and Mozarts.
If I had godly powers I’d create that man.
With skin made of chocolate-coloured cotton candy, good enough for me die for.
His heart would be of Gold and I a greedy miner.
Digging day and night.
His touch would be of warm subtle water falls at the edge of diamante mountains.
Priceless if you ask me.
I’d create him to fill the sky with stars every time he walks and his body would be a portrait to thirst over.
If only I was a goddess of creation, I’d create this man with godly features, in the image of “isthanwa sami” and devote myself to loving him as I love thyself.
If only plagiarism didn’t exist, I’d take all his words and make them mine.
Rewrite everything his hand has ever scribbled upon my soul.
I’d take music and turn it into a modern love letter. Embedding my feelings in your mind and engraving my love on your heart.
If only plagiarism didn’t exist, I’d borrow myself his thoughts, bedazzl them with my ideas and bring you to your knees.
Have you feel the world move around you. Have you thinking that it’s you and I against the world.
If plagiarism didn’t exist, I’d study his words to make them mine. I’d scribble onto sticky-notes my ideas, confessing my love for you.
I’d turn feelings into thoughts, emotions into ideas and mentals into heartbeats.
…but now plagiarism exists and using people’s sweat is a recorded crime so I’ll just look at you and hope that my eyes say it all when my smile fails to convince you.
Um’shelo so tough.
I’m sitting here thinking to myself. If all these posts were a book I’d have to write and finish a new one before the year ends.
I mean all the posts my hand have written were the past and the present says all that was hurt, fear and sadness.
…and now all that seems so far away from my reach. It feels as if my heart will never taste the bitterness of all that negativity and maybe, just maybe I was too quick to write off happiness in my life.
As I sit right here. I remember all the tears I shed, the fear I experienced and the pain I’ve felt.
All I can do now is smile and thank God for the new experience, the new life where I’m proud enough to stand up and say “YES, I’VE TASTED THE SWEETNESS OF BEING IN LOVE AND I NOW KNOW THAT LOVE IS TAILORED FOR ME.”
I’m in love.
What would you say if I came to you and asked you to consider staying in my life forever?!
Would you be interested?
What if I chose to be yours for life, promised to love you forever and swore to never dream beyond our castle?!
Would that be ok?
You taught me how to fly when I didn’t even believe in wings.
You made me realize how easy it is to stand up tall when I didn’t even think getting up was possible.
You make me believe that catching dreams with a butterfly net isn’t insane but simply fashionable.
You’re that part of me I missed all my life but I never knew I ever had.
A series of strings that has managed to keep me together.
Sthandwa sami you’re my joy, my pride and my strength.
Without you I’m a tree without brunches on which the world can’t feed.
So would you please show interest in staying in my life forever?
I mean simply allow me to name myself “YOURS” and promise to never imagine me out of your world.
Simply because, ngiyak’thanda wena Jobe wami.
“I love my cup of coffee the way I love man…”
This right here is a statement I’ve heard more than enough and I’ve always thought it was a bit of cliché.
You know how ladies always run out of conversation spines when they meet up for a cup of tea or maybe when they have what they love to call a “girls’ night out”?
They end up talking about “God-knows-what” and one of them will always find a way of worming in an unnecessary conversation by starting up with a very ridiculous statement.
…and to me “I love my cup of coffee the way I love my man…” has always been one of those and funny enough it is one of those no-brainers, because I mean women always find a way to say the first thing that comes to mind when these “let’s get to know each other better” moments come.
See… in most cases the answers/ideas are always diametrically opposed to what these ladies really are.
In simple text, women never really know what they’re into.
…but then again I fell in love and everything took a turn into the unknown and all my disbelieves turned into a series of believes.
I grew to understand how a man can actually be compared to a cup of coffee, I grew to understand how two different things could be so similar.
I myself learnt how to compare my man to a cup of coffee and have my friends understand my insane taste in men.
So…here goes: “I love my cup of coffee the way I love my man, hot, not too sweet but very strong with a few drops of milk to make it chocolaty and just know that I’m a coffee addict.”
“My favourite shade of male is you and I swear that shall never change.”
I said and he just shook his head and smole.
I bet in his head I was starting with my craziness, but in mine ideas of another piece were already flooding and I knew what I was going to blog about next.
So I wheeled him in and explained.
“I mean, think about it.”
Was what I had to say to him next.
If men were a certain colour on the colour wheel and their bastardness a certain shade then babe you’d be my favourite shade.
If men were a certain car and their asshole qualities were features that set differences to models, then you’d definitely be my favourite model.
If men were cell phones and their foolishness the different models, then you’d be my favourite smartphone.
I mean if you guys were ice-cream and your manliness were the flavours, you’d definitely be “toffee-nut” my favourite. Hard to get but worth the search and the find is simply the greatest reward.
“Look, what I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t matter in what kind of form you come but you’ll always be my favourite.”
….was the closing statement and he was defeated and already in tears.
…and this is how I made him cry with my craziness.
Can I write to Khumbul’ekhaya? …and have them remind you to khumbula ekhaya.
Because they say: “Home is where the heart is. ”
…and you once said I should always know that wherever you are your heart will always be with me.
Can I write to Relate?
…and have them help us and educate us on how to relate, because to me this relationship has no relation.
It’s just mutual distance with no direction.
Allow my to write to Love Back.
I need them to help me trace your emotions.
My love, it seems like you’re gone and you can’t seem to find your way back.
I need to get my love back.
Can’t we take it all back to what it once was?
Can’t we start afresh and promise each other the world and all it’s made of?
Can’t you just go back to being the heart-entrepreneur you once was and sell me all the dreams in the world?
I wish I could just write to All You Need Is Love, ngoba wena sthandwa sami wang’lahla and I just know that all you need is my love.
Come home and find your love, my love.
I said: “Hey, look at me and get a boner.
See my smile and feel your heart melt. I’m not just a girl but thee girl.”
…and he thought I was insane.
So… I said: “Look, you can easily hear my voice and wet your pants.
Look into my eyes and feel your knees get weak.
I’m not one of a million but one in a million, I know.”
…and he thought I was lying.
Then I had to say: “See… I could walk your way and have your heart jumping up and down…
…or simply touch you and have you thinking in tongues.
I’m not a typical human being but one you’d love to have in your life. ”
…and he thought it was my craziness speaking.
I then said: “Well, I could easily say your name and have the world move around you…
…or maybe blow you a kiss and have you build your world around me.
…because not only have I become your crush but in me you’ve found the girl of your dreams. ”
…and at the this point I had won his heart just to turn him down and remind him that I’m a taken woman.