Over time, a lot of things she had lost – reliance, enthusiasm, hope, dysfunctional relationships and occasionally, old fears.
Losses were never easy to handle emotionally, not to mention the public questioning that came with them.
“What do you mean you don’t love him anymore? Is this a bloody joke?” Asked her father, his lower lip trembling in anger. “First you girls rebel against family norms to marry these men of your choice, and then fight again to leave them.”
She remained silent, her head hung low. Her silence only made her father more impatient, as her mother looked on. “Love is over you say! How is that even possible?” He continued.
“Dad, you don’t understand what really happened and how. But I don’t blame you, I never told you and Mom.”
“What is it that we don’t understand? We’ve been married for more than 30 years now. We know how things work. Being single is not as easy as you think.” This time it was her mother.
“What you don’t understand that it’s never love that is lost first. For love to be lost, there must be other losses that precede.
You think I lost love and you find it bizarre, don’t you?
For you to understand better, I first lost my dignity, and a good chunk of my self-esteem.
Then came the loss of respect for those who caused the first loss.
Soon after I lost love. And now I feel the loss of tolerance from every cell of my body.”
The parents stayed silent, as they looked at each other.
She continued “What you don’t see is that even when love is very quick to happen – and yes it made me a bigger rebel than I was – it takes a long long time to recede.
And yes, it’s never the first thing to go.”
Image taken from Google images