No perfect love

THERE I S NO PERFECT LOVE…..
     What is it that makes a mother abandon her new born baby? Or makes a husband cheat on the love of his life? What is that one thing that makes you reach out and lash at the ones you hold closest to your heart? Or look your mother in the eye and lie to her? What makes one’s best friend snatch her boyfriend right underneath her nose or change the name on that prize ticket?
      Maybe am just a sucker for the good in people but I refuse to believe that some people are simply cold hearted and have no conscience. Try as I might to imagine what it might be like to have no scruples or sense of remorse, I still find it impossible. Believe me when I say it is possible to love someone with the whole of your heart and all you have in you and yet still go behind their backs and do that which you know will hurt them the most. Psychologists will say it’s our other side, you know how we are all supposed to have an evil side that is usually kept under lock and key and only surfaces at those rear times when you lose control but I believe it’s something else.
     It’s our very own defiant human nature, the very same thing that makes us want to defy the simple basic things that come naturally…the same thing that makes you not go to the bathroom until your bladder is two seconds away from bursting, or that will keep you glued to the t. v screen until you drop off the chair from sleep, or that thing that will make you want to use your broken leg to walk before its time. It’s the constant inner conflict taking place inside us. We are always at war with our selves, whether we know it or not. So even in love, there is no perfect love. We can only hope that one day one will be able to muster all that goes on within us and bring it to a unidirectional harmony.                                                         

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Anything but ordinary

Image
As a writer, you pride yourself in the fact that you are able, on a higher level than the ordinary man, to put into words what exactly it is that you are feeling, what it is that you see, smell, hear, name it. Whether it is a terribly scrumptious heaped plate of spaghetti with a slightly orange tinge that tastes like ocean waves at sunset or a large tree with red and brown leaves that bends slightly to the right whenever the wind blows and has endless trails of tiny black insects harvesting sweet cold nectar up from its pale pink flowers down to its partially hidden roots...you get the picture. That was not the case with the writer’s retreat on Bulago Island over the Independence Day weekend.This retreat was organised by Jackee Batanda of SuccessSpark Brand and Nyana Kakooma of Sooo Many Stories. Don't let the fact that this was the first of it's kind fool you... Imagine a big orange house, with large glass windows that cover almost fifty percent of the walls. Imagine
Read more

Thoughts on a humid Sunday midnight

Images of you race across my mind, and then quickly run off to hide, like a shy girl from unknown guests. ‘It’s been long enough’, they say, but what do they know? How can they know when knowing was only ours? A narrow tarmac road, twisting slightly to the left as it slopes, only to straighten out and show the way home; home for a while, home forever; Home. Silence, friendly silence. All sounds combining at once to match the music in my head, or is it in my heart? A mouth with a wide smile, lips that tell of dreams long forgotten and yet coming alive once again, a heart with such kindness, hands that accept, embrace and give. Warmth from every pore. Hands that hold. Hands that work. Hands that lead, gentle hands. A gentle soul. Night lights, of every color; yellow, orange, blue, green; speed by like a man on a mission, a man blown away by strong winds that squeeze through small spaces looking for the quickest smoothest way out. Eyes that stare at the lights, eyes full of
Read more

World without color

I’m looking for you in every face I see Looking for the familiarity that used to be Empty parking lots, bare wrists What’s a picture without color; what’s me without you? I’m running to you but you’re already leaving I’m running faster, running to catch up with you Running past wondering stares and pointing fingers Running to stop you from taking another step, the next step…and the next Running to make you see that we are all it takes We are all it will take. Wait for me. Take my hand.  Look me in the eye. Believe me. Believe me, I beg you… You smell of home Carry it with you as you go, leaving me exposed, un-sheltered, cold. I can’t run anymore; I’m panting and sweaty I can’t let you leave but I can’t run anymore Why won’t you stop walking? Why won’t you look back when I call your name? Tell me you see it too; how great we will be. How unstoppable we are together. We will conquer the world, swallow them whole. We will make history. We were
Read more