Tag: affection

  • Torturous love

    Torturous love

    And so it is…love and torture have always been stablemates.

    Sometimes, without warning, someone enters your life and challenges every assumption that you ever made about what’s possible.

    What you thought you deserved was limited to what you were capable of achieving up to that point, and maybe just a quiet desire to acquire some peace beyond it.

    Until they see in you what you thought was your own delusions, and you see in them what you thought were only your dreams.

    Once you connect with that truth, nothing can convince you that anything less is what you must settle for.

    Settling becomes a vulgar thought, and fulfilment becomes incomplete without them.

    When that happens, the distance between love and torture grows, and you find yourself stretched between the two, with only shards of sanity to prevent you from being torn apart.

    Those shards will tear at your dreams and taunt your delusions until their embrace is secured.

    Until then, life becomes a dyslexic dance with insanity, and love remains elusive.

    (From the archives)

  • The silent ones

    The silent ones

    True misery doesn’t love company.

    It decays the soul in silence.

    When someone is complaining, it’s because they still have hope that someone cares enough to listen or respond.

    Or even to empathise.

    When they give up on these three things, they go silent because they have grown to accept that no one else cares, or understands the state that they’re in.

    Too often we see their silence and assume it to be acceptance of their struggles or challenges, meanwhile it often symbolises the slow death of dreams, hopes, and ultimately, a life.

    Silence is the silent killer, more than rage.

    Listen with both ears and your heart.

    Pay attention to the silent ones.

    Your noise of ingratitude may just be drowning out their silence of pain.

    Find the balance between living loud and loving sincerely.

    The one without the other will smother people closest to you.

  • Empathise

    Empathise

    Empathy is expressed when we desire for others what we wish to have for ourselves.

    Sometimes, it’s something we have, and we hope that others will be able to enjoy the same value and benefit that we enjoy from it.

    Sometimes, it’s what we don’t have, yet we hope that we may be able to contribute towards others having it, despite having no reason to believe that we’ll be able to experience it ourselves.

    Empathy is founded in our desire to alleviate our struggles that we see in someone else’s life.

    That struggle could be something we currently experience, or something that we have experienced before.

    It is core to our humanness, and only gets tainted when we respond with bitterness, hoping to see others suffer or struggle in the same way as we may have. Either at their hands, or at the hands of those whom they represent in our life.

    Empathy is the difference between peaceful acceptance, and bitter vengeance.

    Like that old proverb says, a bitter heart eats its owner.

    Protect your heart from the bitterness of this world by practicing empathy instead.

  • Only you

    Only you

    “I’ve been incompatible with anyone else since I met you.”

    Sometimes, without warning, someone enters your life and challenges every assumption you ever made about what’s possible.

    What you thought you deserved was limited to what you were capable of achieving up to that point, and maybe just a quiet desire to acquire some peace beyond it.

    Until they see in you what you thought was your own delusions, and you see in them what you thought were only your dreams.

    Once you connect with that truth, nothing can convince you that anything less is what you must settle for.

    Settling becomes a vulgar thought, and fulfilment becomes incomplete without them.

    When that happens, the distance between love and torture grows, and you find yourself stretched between the two, with only shards of sanity to prevent you from being torn apart.

    Those shards will tear at your dreams and taunt your delusions until their embrace is secured.

    Until then, life becomes a dyslexic dance with insanity, and love remains elusive.


  • Heart Strings

    There are moments that creep up on me that extract memories and yearnings that l barely recalled up to that point. But in a brief moment, those vague recollections suddenly surge forward with an energy that leaves me mute. Playing with my niece tonight rendered one such moment. The sincerity in the laughter of a child is enough to restore peace to this world. At least peace to my world. Ironic then that such peace would also be accompanied by some moving memories as well.

    I found myself recalling poignant moments in my life with my own daughters, both of whom were snatched away at a very tender age. It wasn’t the struggle that followed that left its mark, but instead two completely random moments that were unprompted and almost missed.

    It was a typical night on an atypical weekend when my oldest daughter was with me. It was summer, not winter, unlike so many other poignant moments that somehow defines my life’s collage. She was probably less than three years old. She had the cutest brownish gold curls that wrapped around her face. I put her to bed and continued with my evening before joining her later. I climbed into bed and laid on my side facing her. She turned to me, cupped both her hands on my cheeks and just stared deeply into my eyes. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t smile. She just looked into me and held my stare for a long while before turning over and going to sleep. I can sometimes still feel her tiny hands on my face.

    The other memory that revisited unexpectedly was on a cold winter’s day. My day started early around 2am when I received the news of my ex-wive’s unexpected death in a motor vehicle accident. I travelled to the township where her funeral was to be held hoping to see if my younger daughter was coping with the loss. At that point I was also struggling through legal battles to get access to her, so her only interactions with me in the years leading up to that point were stolen moments I secured when visiting her at her preschool before going to work. So I didn’t know what to expect. But that is just the context, it wasn’t the memory.

    When we sat down to have lunch that day she insisted on sitting next to me. It made me happy to see her still attached to me despite the time apart. We sat there having lunch when a random glance from me caught her looking expectantly up at me. Big bright eyes, the softest smile, but a distinct sense of her reaching out to see if I was noticing her. That was the moment. That look. Seeking inclusion, affirmation, affection, or acceptance. Or maybe all of it. All hidden behind that precarious smile. Her true fragility was revealed when I took her home and saw her frail body in the bath the next morning. Her skin was flaking from her body, and her belly was swollen from a poor diet. But even that sight doesn’t dwarf the memory of that smile. That infectious, strong, but fragile smile. Enough to tug at the heart strings of a brute. Even this one.

    Moments like those cannot be choreographed, but they can be easily missed. Distractions deny us the beauty of those simple moments. Perhaps that would explain my heightened sense of impatience when I find myself prompted towards that which is inconsequential.