HIS GAME

Sunday Night

Tonight, my boobs feel sour. They hurt. Reminds me of Doctor Dimples. I would have been calling him to say my boobs hurt. He would have picked up while sleeping and I would have been asking the obvious question although I would clearly see he was sleeping before I called. So selfish of me. When I want to talk I forget he needs to sleep. "Were you sleeping?" "Yeah." "Sorry go back to sleep."  "It's okay, I'm already up. We can talk." 

Then usually the important reasons people have for waking others wouldn't be my case. I would be calling to talk about nothing in particular and that conversation could drag on for an hour.

Dear God, I'm supposed to wake up oneday and avoid calling that number or texting it. I'm supposed to wake up and get used to him not reaching out to me, to check up on me in the morning? I'm supposed to pull through my day without hearing from him to ask if I've eaten or how my day is going. I'm supposed to keep my aches to myself and not tell my friend. What did I miss? He knew the right words to say. Relax. He only saw the sunshine, nothing less! 

This hurt. The thought of losing my friend hurt. The thought of knowing I couldn't vent to him, hurt. The thought of knowing he wasn't there to understand or support me when no one else did hurt. Your go-to person. 

When you lose people in your life, it isn't the fact that they left that makes you sad. It's the friendship you miss. The hard part is how to pull through without them. It doesn't matter if they were not your man. These kind of friendships cut deep. The kind where you are cared for and cherished. You need time to heal from the hurt of losing your friend.

 It hits differently especially when you realise it was a game to him, that you were his game. Nothing less! 

Exerpts from HIS GAME

I'm comfortable sharing exerpts from 'HIS GAME' now because I finally finished putting it together. Will post the full story on Wattpad for a while just to see how it will fare in the next few days.

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