Happy Birthday Bruno 🤍

 Tomorrow is Bruno’s 7th Birthday. We got him and Rihanna from Tsile Sephoti after losing Bella. Another gift from Francis En Herman Liebenberg. I was never a “dog person” until I met Les. Bruno had a twin Rihanna. I still sob when I think about her some days. She loved eating cucumbers. She was fed poison and died exactly a year before Lesley died. I lost so much that everything I have seems so little or not enough tat times. And it’s unfair on those who don’t know the massive void I’m constantly trying to fill. I live between extremes. I experience the most beautiful moments and then some really shitty ones and some I’d rather be dead than go through. Right now I don’t know what I’m longing for. For Lesley and Rihanna to come back from the dead or to be just ignorant of my broken heart? And then Papa. The one responsible for Bruno’s obesity. Hahaha. “Ntatemogolo o lapile today Brukies,” he’d say to Bruno. That alone spoke volumes to our relationship. God bless his soul. And my mother who’s just fading away. I am glad I don’t see life this way every day because I’d be as good as dead. When events like this come, I don’t ignore them. But I have not acknowledged Bruno’s birthday since 2017. I’m so sad this evening man. It doesn’t help that I’m not a millionaire yet too. 😀 it’s always fun to confuse my own emotions. Laughing at my lousy jokes while I’m crying. 😆 and I know some of you are checking out Lesley’s ass. You’re going to hell. 🤣

Good night. ❤️

Love without you

I really understand the dilemma marketing gurus go through when they want to change perception around a brand. Change it and still be able to sell it to people with its history completely detached.

I still get people who refer to me as “Matuba wa Lesley.” Because We unconsciously created that in people’s eyes. Doing everything together, always together except when hoe was life. LOL. And I spoke about him every chance I got. He became me and I can safely say it was the same in his case too. With him gone, trying to love again, is worse than solving for X in a math paper. (I hated mathematics and so this is the worst possible description of a difficulty.)

Especially when the periodical wave of grief creeped in. You get so used to swimming alone out of that tide so much, it becomes a space you want to be alone. I wonder if my one chance at love was just with him and I must now discover my new purpose for living. And I use the word love very loosely because you need more than just love to love someone completely and unreservedly. I once knew that kind of love. And you know it exists on days you’ve done the unforgivable, but a whole new level of I love you shows up. I miss Lesley and I want to be comfortable missing him this way. Remaembering everything. But anyone who’s not in my shoes will see it as holding on to what’s already gone. It’s that simple for people who don’t know grief. I miss you baby. I don't know how not to miss you.

A traveller's note

I have been running away from missing you. I willingly do everything that helps me move on to the next stage of my life because everything I knew was decorated with your presence. My life is still pretty much like an after-party clean up. I am learning to feel the things I used to know all over again.   But there's a layer of my humanity that was eroded with your passing. And so I feel things differently, just like your death, it hurts differently. But I record most of my days, I look back and chuckle and think to myself, "who is he kidding?" But it is amazing to be able to reach the level of joy often brought with the love of friends while I am away from family. The point of this note though, was to say I love and miss you. And more so now that I am away from the safety net that is family and friends back home. I was telling Hlonela just the other day that I think the best part about falling in love was mending from a broken heart. The recovery is full of interesting aspects of my life I only heard from people.
This morning I came across words from Muslim scriptures that felt like light into my current darkness of feeling lost without you.

Be in the world as if you were as a stranger or a traveller: when evening time comes, expect not the morning; and when morning time comes expect not the evening; and prepare as long as you are in good health for sickness, and so long as you are alive for death. 

After reading this, I realised that I am startled by feeling better because the intensity of my grief is subsiding. I don't have any feeling of guilt because you've always put yourself before me ensuring my happiness. There's no doubt in my mind about how you feel about how I've carried on since you left. In everything I do, I try to be present. But in all the great things that happen to me, I still look for you. This makes me a difficult person to love or console because sometimes my heart just yearns for you and it won't stop until you just don't arrive. My conclusion is that extreme pain of knowing you are not coming back is what subdues the heart and it lets go. It's a cycle I live with now. It's like the rest of my being is separated from my own heart. My body and my mind are the caretakers of a broken heart.

I love and miss you Lesley. I don't express it every day, but my whole life and everything I do is themed around your death. I am in places I would not be in if you were still alive. Everything about me just says, I miss you. I pray to God of my forefathers that you are resting peace.

My journey to the cross

This time every year, for the rest of my life will be like the Christian's "Journey to the Cross." That's the build up to the crucifixion. Seven days from today will be the anniversary of Lesley's passing. The first one. Last year this time Lesley and I were like a couple that's just met, right up until the minute I last saw him. Thanks to a stupid quarrel we had a week before. It led us on a path to the end of his journey. Unknowingly so and we left nothing unsaid. Our fears and hopes were laid bare. Death was among them. One week after we laid him to rest I thought I'd be dead too by this time. But in retrospect a part of me did die with him. I think that's what made me not deal with grief in the conventional way. That's just me being polite. But truth is, I didn't do it the way everyone "expected" me to do it. I didn't wait for a year to go by before I could start dating and falling in love again. I just did what would keep me afloat instead of  killingwhat was left of me. Is there still space to grieve? Oh hell yes. Sometimes you wake up crying in the arms of your new love. They either hold you tight, comfort you or freak out. I was and still the best judge of what I need to be doing as someone grieving. There's no manual that comes with it. Not easy to control, but after every fall I went back to my position of power. My goal is to be the happiest brokenhearted man. Being away from home and loved ones at this time was a conscious decision. There will be time to regroup and carry on with life while I continue to preserv the memory of the love of my life. Rest in peace Makgariana.

I'm leaving

I've started packing for my departure. In fact I am almost done. So I come across some of Lesley's clothes. The ones I did not want to let go of. Then I smile with sadness. Then start doing a monologue and I laugh out loud because I know how he would have responded to my sarcasm. I quickly snap out of it because I'd started to enjoy pretending he's with me. Like a mad person I cry and smile at the same time.  I'm just so happy that I am in a good space to close this chapter. But I'm taking you with me. The pain will shed itself and leave the broken heart to enjoy its new life. There's no "letting go" here. You will always be part of the journey. The cause changed because of your departure. I'm even tempted to throw bones and ask you what you think of my new boyfriend. Hahaha. I love you and thank you. I'm still learning how to talk about you without crying. I promise it's not so much sadness. I don't have a name for it. It doesn't matter. I'm okay and I will be okay. My dilemma is one. If I marry this guy and then cross over, will you still be mine when I see you? Hahaha. Don't answer that. I love you.

Evening thoughts

So I'm chatting with Bae via text. Lols feels so weird. He's distracting me from reading a book I'd usually finish in two hours. But I honestly don't mind because he's a whole PhD thesis unfolding in my life. The feeling of love carries a tinge of sadness for me. Don't know if I'm trying to justify my new love, but I have learned grief transmutes into other forms of energy and life. It doesn't go away. It's tough but I have surrendered to processes of life. Hoping that the grief that wraps my heart like snow on Lesotho mountains in the cold winters, melts into water that nourishes my widowed heart. Just so I can love again. And most importantly so I can live.

Early morning thoughts

Woke up with thoughts so heavy for my soul. I was reflecting on how much I shared about losing Lesley. And I noticed in the sharing of my loss I sometimes behaved like I was the only one who lost him. I even shared mostly pictures of just him and I. Truth is, some of his best captured images are with his friends and  not with me. Yet I made it so much about me. There was never a need for insecurities because there is still almost a decade of memories just for me. Probably to last me a lifetime. Maybe I thought it would fast-track the process. Mourning and grief are best left to run their course. Preferably in private away from the gaze which creates expectations from the outside world. I shared and overshared. Was it my coping mechanism? Who knows? All I know now is I'm terrified of losing his image in my mind. I'm slowly sobering up from my severe depression and it feels like I'm walking away from him. The guilt of finding joy without him. Makes me look back instead of reflecting and moving on. I don't even want to hear the phrase "move on". But who am I kidding? I love life. And I love LOVE. The dilemma is I can never have them with Les. The only love I knew. But I take consolation in the fact that there was nothing unsaid between us. My happiness was important to him. I think it still is. I know this sounds like permission to start dating. It's not. And those who know me well know that I don't need it. I just miss Les. And I can just imagine myself in my 60s telling fourth husband about what a catch my Les was. At this stage of my grief, I now know where broken hearts go. It's a path you find on your own when you lose the love of your life.

Different kinds of painful

Every day is a different kind of painful without Les. Some days I cry myself to sleep. Some days smile thinking about what he could have said if he were here. Other days I test my endurance. I just sit quietly and ignore the silence. I don't know when I will die. However long it will take for that day to come, I will still be heartbroken.
I am not sitting and waiting for death. I just happen to live in the aftermath of the cruelty of death.
Death and mourning a loved one isolate us from people. And there is no healing in loneliness. It's a tricky situation because one can easily reject people's compassion mistaking it for pity. It's also been six months. You easily imagine people saying "Can he just get over it already". And so you isolate yourself further from people into the darkness of depression.
I believe in the natural healing of wounds, emotional and physical wounds. But that doesn't always work. Physical wounds need some anti-septic to fast-track healing. Emotional wounds don't heal when we don't wash them off with the company of others without reading too much into it.
I have already rejected what was presented to me as love. Is it because it wasn't from Lesley. I will never get anything closer to that ever. It's something my mind and soul will not accept, digest and make peace with. That's why every day has a new kind of painful when I come home and he is not here. So many things died with my Les.
I however hang on to the believe that people who loved here on earth love more fiercely beyond and I am open to receive that love from you my love. I love you. I am just so sad.

Mothers

Our first Christmas without Lesley. This pic was taken at home in Sosha, after a good cry Mama and I had that afternoon. 

You know, some of us grew up with mothers who just made everything okay. I have vivid memories of some of our darkest times as a family. But for some reason, hearing Mama's voice informed me that we wouldn't be in the dark for much longer. I also know her strength from the conversations we never had. I observed her experiences. She just never let go in all the many different challenges I saw her overcome. So she became my safety net for when I fall for a long time and I felt safe knowing I vould refuel my life from.her love.
But the pain of losing the love of your life, is a pain not even a mother understands. Her presence makes the whole experience much more difficult becasue she too is experiencing pain. Lesley was her son. And he was my husband. This is the first time  I saw Mama let go. She let her pain be seen and she acknowledged it. It made itself felt with tears even months after Les left us. God knows how many times I abandoned my grief to reassure her I'd be okay. But the truth is you don't heal completely. It's still early days. Mama's pain hurts me even more. Lesley! What have you done!?

Holding it in

It's that time of the year. Happy times all round. And you know, social media makes it so easy to share these great moments with everyone. I expected that I would have fallen apart by now from grief and wishing my Lesley was here with me. When the moment to fall apart comes, I embrace it. I don't induce it because of my well-known fear of drowning in depression. I have been sharing my pain and this journey since Lesley's passing. For many reasons, I chose to share this story. But I found myself stopping myself for a while. Especially now. Forced myself into private mourning and learning the difference between being alone and feeling lonely. Yes, we are all going through different difficulties and must express them. For some odd reason though, I felt public mourning and expression of grief would be selfish. It's difficult to absorb all the happiness trending on my timeline. Even when I create a happy environment for myself, it's certainly a mechanism to float so no one ever has to leave their party to come rescue me. In all the times I dressed up and posed for pictures, it was just another plan I came up with just to survive. I found peace in holding it in. And it is the way to go from now on. Nothing I do can ever fill this gap. So whatever I do from now on, is either to survive or going the direction of a new path with full of things unknown to me.

Early morning thoughts

There are mornings where I wake disappointed because I am alive. Classic sign of depression I guess and it is expected considering the amount of shock and trauma I am going through. Time does not heal, but it intensifies the pain and make you realise that death is final. It's much harder for people like me who love being in control and having the power to influence or change a situation.

The temptation for people in my situation is despair. Especially now during the festive season. But it's easier to acknowledge the difficulties of being lonely at this time, while trying to cultivate some inner peace so we survive the days ahead. Back when my grief was fresh, I never thought I'd enjoy the small, ordinary events of life. I do now. Family and friends, birds singing and watching the blue skies turn grey. Looking out the window during a storm and walking the dog. They give me a good feeling.

There is really no happiness, but I do experience moments of joy. It comes from the hard work we do trying to survive in the midst of this piercing overriding loss. It's still too soon to relax and begin to trust life again, but at least  I know that's what needs to happen. 

Through memory, love transcends the limits of time and offers hope and courage to carry on to the next day. Not always easy to see the lesson as I've said, sometimes I wish I could die and not experience this pain that you must sometimes smile or make people feel good while you are carrying it. Almost like learning to walk again. I don't know how to be without the love of my life. It was also important to acknowledge that we can medicate as much as we want, but the only way to survive is to be present in the moment of grief. People medicate differently. Some seek validation and pity from others, while some try replace what's lost. Most take prescription for their doctors. I have tried avoid all of the above, but I will label my situation as "surviving".

 May your beautiful soul rest in peace Lesley. I miss you motho wa ka! 

Insomnia

For a long time I missed that husband whose affection I'd soaked in through my pores and never consciously returned, accepting it as my natural reward. I missed him in that way you never know you'll miss someone who has always been with you till they're gone. Now, when I'm alone sometimes, I feel he's with me. - An extract from the book Insomnia by Aamer Hussein 

Pain and Romance

I have been talking a lot about you and not writing so much about how I feel. I have been a bit desperate for feedback and some opinion on my view of the world. Nothing has been the same. Sometimes I suspect even food taste different to when we would sit next to each other and share a meal. It is really difficult to come here and write about you from a position of power and not that of a victim that everyone must feel sorry for.  My latest conversation conversation about you was with Rev. Siza Lugojolo. The man who presided at your funeral. Our whatsapp messages are always intense because he always goes for the truths I am sometimes not ready to hear. Almost the same way you would just address the elephant in the room when everyone is comfortable in discomfort. It's another affirmation that you probably live through people who love and care for me. It still does not mitigate the injustice which is your death or the constant pain triggered by everything we used to do together. I still run into you even in my new routine. But Ihave graduated from being the "cry-er" to someone who knows when not to break down. Not always easy, but it has certainly gotten better. Rev. Siza gave me a whole lesson on learning to live beyond death of a spouse. It really made think on whether grief makes us romanticise pain so much that we want to do the things that preserve the pain and not walking towards healing. Part of the said healing to me, means leaving you behind. "Marriage ends in death. There are no marriages in heaven," Siza told me. He further said that Jesus answered this question when he was asked about a woman who married seven men who all died before her. "Moving on" is justified in the Bible. But I don't think there is any piece of writing that will make me feel whole again. Am I romanticising pain? I know your answer would be No because you knew better than anyone how I hate pity.  I wish the were timelines to how long this pain would last. But I have realised that unconventional ways are the only ways to get through each day. The planned methods have never worked. I miss you.

Giving what I don't have

When one big part of your life falls apart, it's a battle to fill the gaping hole. But because we are alive and want to survive, we do all sorts of things to survive or do anything that helps ease the pain. All of these things are temporary solutions, you run from one temporary solution to another. It's activity you almost get addicted to because you'd be under the impression that you are dealing with your pain and sometimes anger. 

Under normal circumstances, people do a lot of different things to escape their day-to-day stress. It might be reading a book, going on holiday or collecting art and so on. We can safely call it, escapism. My whole life is now dedicated to finding escapism. Sometimes in the form of human beings; friends and lately a possible romantic partner. Everything else that used to be escapism involved my late husband. Books, travel, spending time with the kids, wine and dinning and going out dancing. He was there with me. Our friends were a treat to spend time with, because we are all so busy. 

But lately they are my source of strength and I am beginning to slip out of their amazing and constant show of love and compassion. I am deliberately slipping out of this comfort zone so I can make sense of my new normal. On my way out, I found a new friend and we’re now looking at whether or not we can be more. It's another temporary solution to my loneliness. On the face of it, that's what it looks like. It is a selfish thing to do. I still want to hold on to Les, but I also enjoy being with someone willing to come into my life at a time like this. The logical thing is to reject and do what everyone else does. "Deal with my grief". But luckily, I am not everybody. It's a choice between facing this alone and doing this with someone who won't be fazed my trips to the cemetery, pictures of Les everywhere and talking about him every now and then. I mean, this is enough to send anyone packing. But this individual wants all of that. Yuck! I know I would not even go anywhere near someone who’s just lost their partner. Especially when it's well known it was the love of their life. He is also someone who could be with anyone he wanted to be with. At the moment his choice is me and all my baggage. Very unpopular with the conservatives in my life. But no one knows what I am going through and how I'd like to go about it. I don't want to accept or reject anything because of anyone other than myself. I am strong enough to try things out and fail without falling apart all over again. If I lost the love of my life and still standing, there's nothing that can break me. I am already giving away what I don't have because I have nothing much to lose. Although it's important to be fair to myself and everyone close to me. Especially this brave man. 

This whole thing is crazy because on the morning of the 8th of July this year, Lesley and I were putting final touches to our future. It was going to be outside Gauteng Province and possibly outside the country. But here am I, seeking to band aid on a bullet wound. Four months ago, he was here. I am damaged goods that someone else wants. Damaged in a sense that I was in a forever arrangement with my husband. Now I have to reboot a system that was never meant for an upgrade. Do I even have it in me to give companionship to anyone else who is not Lesley? I won't say no, but I am not confident about that. Simply because it can't be the same as the last time I did this. When one big part of your life falls apart, it's a battle to fill the gaping hole. But because we are alive and want to survive, we do all sorts of things to survive or do anything that helps ease the pain. All of these things are temporary solutions, you run from one temporary solution to another. It's activity you almost get addicted to because you'd be under the impression that you are dealing with your pain and sometimes anger. 

Under normal circumstances, people do a lot of different things to escape their day-to-day stress. It might be reading a book, going on holiday or collecting art and so on. We can safely call it, escapism. My whole life is now dedicated to finding escapism. Sometimes in the form of human beings; friends and lately a possible romantic partner. Everything else that used to be escapism involved my late husband. Books, travel, spending time with the kids, wine and dinning and going out dancing. He was there with me. Our friends were a treat to spend time with, because we are all so busy. 

But lately they are my source of strength and I am beginning to slip out of their amazing and constant show of love and compassion. I am deliberately slipping out of this comfort zone so I can make sense of my new normal. On my way out, I found a new friend and we’re now looking at whether or not we can be more. It's another temporary solution to my loneliness. On the face of it, that's what it looks like. It is a selfish thing to do. I still want to hold on to Les, but I also enjoy being with someone willing to come into my life at a time like this. The logical thing is to reject and do what everyone else does. "Deal with my grief". But luckily, I am not everybody. It's a choice between facing this alone and doing this with someone who won't be fazed my trips to the cemetery, pictures of Les everywhere and talking about him every now and then. I mean, this is enough to send anyone packing. But this individual wants all of that. Yuck! I know I would not even go anywhere near someone who’s just lost their partner. Especially when it's well known it was the love of their life. He is also someone who could be with anyone he wanted to be with. At the moment his choice is me and all my baggage. Very unpopular with the conservatives in my life. But no one knows what I am going through and how I'd like to go about it. I don't want to accept or reject anything because of anyone other than myself. I am strong enough to try things out and fail without falling apart all over again. If I lost the love of my life and still standing, there's nothing that can break me. I am already giving away what I don't have because I have nothing much to lose. Although it's important to be fair to myself and everyone close to me. Especially this brave man. 

This whole this is crazy because on the morning of the 8th of July this year, Lesley and I were putting final touches to our future. It was going to be outside Gauteng Province and possibly outside the country. But here am I, seeking to band aid on a bullet wound. Four months ago, he was here. I am damaged goods that someone else wants. Damaged in a sense that I was in a forever arrangement with my husband. Now I have to reboot a system that was never meant for an upgrade. Do I even have it in me to give companionship to anyone else who is not Lesley? I won't say no, but I am not confident about that. Simply because it can't be the same as the last time I did this. 

Moments

This is one of my favourite pictures of my love and our baby Bruno. Knocked off late from work. I was on the phone with him to find out what's for dinner. I was told my favourite. Wasn't sure what it was because I loved everything he cooked for me. I always criticised his food, but I had a husband who cooked for me and went all out each time. I was spoilt and so I could afford to be a spoilt brat.
I don't even think I ate that night. He slept before I got home. I usually bring my dinner to the bedroom and catch up. So when I came home to find these two fast asleep in the heat, I did what I do best. Take pictures. I took a few and then gave him kiss. Woke up and and asked for a proper kiss. Hahahaha. I remember like it was juat the other day. I chased Bruno out of our room and went straight to bed without dinner. We cuddled. Had a chat and he admitted he was too tired and wanted to sleep. I showed him the photos the next day. I told him I would not post them unless he pisses me off. Never imagined I'd be pissed off by the fact that he is no more. Motho wa ka! Miss you.

In my shoes

I am typing this blog while in a church service I am attending with my family and in-laws. The last time we were in this setting we were bidding farewell to my husband. Today was an emotional morning because it is also not easy being at Lesley's family home without him. So we spent the first few minutes together crying. No words just tight hugs and sobbing.
So now, I am sitting in church at the exact same spot Lesley and I occupied every time we came here. This time, I am with family in a show of love for Lesley and amazing support for me.
The lunchtime discussion will definitely feature why I don't visit or call often. My mother-in-law hinted in our exchange during the week.
So being in my shoes is quite difficult at this point. I think for many people who are widowed when we are so young.
When in mourning, but mindful of the dangers of deppression you tend to be selfish and only follow your own pattern of grief. It did not involve a lot of people. Not even my closets friends. This is a journey of self-discovery. So I am basically wearing new shoes that walk me to a direction that is far from everyone. But I hope to come back to my loved ones, including my mother-in-law, still able to embrace each other after this transition. To her own admission, I knew her son better than her and for that reason I am best placed to know what is good for me and how to preserve the memory of the love of my life.
It's a tricky situation because Lesley and I were never governed by rules that came with being in a heterosexual relationship. It was always through loving each other and our families deeply and respect. There was no template, but we carved our way of dealing with challenges we faced and we also lead a life that was not part of any (gay) subculture. Every single day was an adventure and we were always creative about how we celebrated our love. I am the only person that knows how it was waking up next him  for almost a decade, I qualify to create my own terms on how I do this. I also have a duty and a promise to keep. To keep our families together. It's important to me too.
I hope I last in these shoes. This is a new expierence to me and my family. I make rules as I go. Mostly to survive and stay as productive as possible. And maybe fall in love, get married and have a family. Not fall in love again, but hopefully a whole new experience of love. I know what I feel based on the life I shared with Lesley. I might need a new pair of shoes for that journey and a lot of luck because Les will always be the love of my life.

Letting go...

I find myself in a state of mind that refuses to be alone. Everything is difficult to do because it was always with Lesley.  Our relationship had old roots that were tangled together. It is not necesarilly because of how long we have been together, but it had more to do with how much of each other we gave to one another. It was a good feeling every single day. Like I always say, even on those bad days. The love was so strong we forgot we were not guaranteed more days together. And I was simply not ready to let go of all those tangible things. I looked forward to preparing a good meal, help him untie his shoe laces and laugh about the muscle pull he had during foreplay. I was not ready to let go of all that.
On all my slow days, when I want to read and write, I am forced to walk through this emotional roller coaster. The only way to avoid it, is to always have people around - which is impossible and probably not a good thing.
But now I am more angry and sad because I don't know what to do with all these habits of taking care of him.  I don't know how to convert that energy into something that helps me. I found pleasure and fulfilment in taking care of my husband. I was always in a hurry to be home with him. Now when I open the door and there is no sign of him, my heart still sinks. I don't want to be alone. I also don't know if I would be happy with anyone else that's not you. People are weird and bring all sorts baggage. We had our own and it had started to be much lighter over almost a decade we lived together. I love and miss you. Letting you go is proving to be a mess.

Garden with no flowers

I was sharing my thoughts with someone close to me the other day. I had to use a disclaimer before I could share them. I had to because this is someone I spend most of my time with. I did not want him to feel like his company is not appreciated. But I cannot help but feel that despite the world having a population of more than 7 Billion people, one can experience loneliness that just pierces the heart and isolate you completely. That is how I sometimes feel about losing you. Not fitting anywhere with anyone.
Somebody else joked that I may be 'damaged goods' and I could never be with anyone else because I still long for you and wired in a way only you knew how to love me. Well, I am not open to that discussion. But I am not going to carry a burden of fitting the image of who people expect me to be at this time. The strength I have will determine who I am at whatever time.
The soil is fertile but there is no harvest this year. That is the analogy for my state of mind. The July winds blew my seeds away. But the soil remains fertile. That's why I titled this post a garden without flowers.

I used to feel a sense of betrayal when I felt I am having a good time. I don't anymore my love. Grief can be morbid and you are too precious to me and I cannot use grief to substitute you. I want to die a happy man. Just like you. I want to cross over to you with no regrets of not living enough. The more I stop, the more I am trapped in this pit of sorrow. I let the moments come. When I feel them coming, I submit all the time. The same goes for when I feel I need to carry on. I soldier on.
There is no way of getting you back. I am making peace with that. Grieving is still a process I will negotiate with life for as long as it lasts. I fear it might outlive me. If not, perhaps some day when I heal, it won't just be your death I think about, but I will celebrate your life too.
Today I am writing to say healing in loneliness is tough. The garden without flowers must be attended to. And I know wherever you are, you'd want me to put it to good use. The impulse has always been to withdraw from people in these times. I cursed people for moving on with their lives while mine fell apart. That experiment did not work. It was more of a path I had to pass through to learn that a smile is not betrayal to your memory. I love you Les. Even beyond this life, I always love you. I know you know everything else I have not said here. Cause you know me so well. That's another reason to this post, to omit some things so I can imagine your naughty smile. Questioning me on things you already know. I know you. Hahaha. I love you.

I want to survive

I want to survive the heartbreak and the deep pain without compromising your memory. Sometimes anger takes over and leads me to temporary solutions to the frustration of not having you around. Your death called for a complete change of routine. Even food taste different Les! I do things differently so I am not reminded that you are gone. It's not always possible. But I want to experience the grieving from a position where I can negotiate my own survival. I would choose death for myself if I knew for sure it would take me to where you are. But I am not brave enough and so I choose to survive this world and continue celebrating our time together. I will face death the day it approaches. I choose to survive people's misinterpretation of how I am going about my grief and mourning. I welcome it. I have made myself vulnerable to all of it because I have publicly declared my pain the same way I publicly celebrated our love and life together. But all of this still remains between you and me. The promise to be together till death tear us apart. It happened. Sooner than expected. So much had to change. So much had to disappear. So it was clear that I would have to swim against a tide of hostility. Hostility from life itself. I want to survive and now I am openimg doors I have never even looked at. It makes me sad. But I want to survive and so my emotions cannot be a barrier between the empty life and my survival. I love you.

Birthday wishes from you to me

I already want to say thank you for what I know would be a special day. I have celebrated eight of my birthdays with you.You have always made sure they are days to remember. You were such a good person I cannot believe I am the one with a life longer than yours. This place needs more people like you. It still hurts very deeply. But in all this hurt and confusion, I still feel favour from the gods and God himself. It is through our friends and family.

They were a safety net I never thought I had. I was ready to fall hard and never stand up. But they fuel all the strength I have. I am able to wake up, stand up and live a bit. And I want to give them credit for most of it.






I will go through tomorrow with a lot of tears no doubt. It's almost impossible to celebrate life when such a big part of me is no more.

Every single day I mumble and chant "God forgive me for my sins". You death feels like God's wrath.  What else could this be? Did he know from the day I was born that I would be in this mess? Giving you to me for eight years, uproot you and expect me to cope? Yes, I am whining and going on about things I cannot change. But as Mama would say, "Molomo o diretswe go bala-bala". So ntlogele ke bala-bale ke kgotsofatse pelo ya ka. Hahaha. I miss you.

The point of this post however, is to thank you in advance for tomorrow. I can only imagine how magical it would be if you were here. We had all plans in place for the day, but fate had other ideas. I don't want to promise thatI will go out there and enjoy my day. I never imagined I'd be writing blog post and be vulnerable to the world because you died. So, tomorrow will be very difficult because I already feel it now. I will use what's left of my strength to actually celebrate you and pay homage to the man who loved me until his last breath. I am so fortunate because you knew how much I appreciate everything you did for me. There are so many things I can single out to thank you for, but the list would be too long. But I am very much grateful for collaborating with me in giving dignity to Black Gay Love. With all our flaws, we were accidental activists and if it wasn't for you, I don't where I would be. The few people we inspired as a coupled accomplished our mission. We know the miracle in reaching even to one person. We both know how that changes society.

You were my gravity and the voice for reason. I learned all those lesson so quickly as if I knew you were not here for long. Now I live by those rules and staying true to myself. Thank you for all of that. I celebrate you with tears in my eyes. Tears of joy and tears of sorrow. I will continue to celebrate you and thanks for the birthday wishes.

This is so sore! I love you.