When I decided to leave, I left, but I made sure that you would never forget me. Towards the end, I laced my kisses with a poignant longing, I tailored them with the intention that you would never forget me. Never. The girl that set whole cities on fire for you. The girl that reached into her guts and pulled out her soul to nourish you.
And when I began to pull away, I made sure that the silence was deafening. It roared from the crevices of my absence, belligerent and generous about it like angry Greek gods and their bolts of lightning. You almost destroyed me, you know? Almost. I remembered myself just in time.
This time, I did myself the favour of remembering to erect steel walls around my soul, an impenetrable fortress, protected even from myself. I loved you with more senses than I had, and with less sense than I should have had.
Wakonyo A. Gachanja