This was it.
He made himself comfortable on the sofa, holding a cup of yoghurt in one hand
and the TV remote in the other. It had been a long day, and it was finally time to
relax. “Let’s put something on the TV, shall we?” he called out to me excitedly.
I heard him loud and clear from where I was standing, only a few feet away from
him in our small, one-bedroom house. A house so small that the only doors in it
were to the bathroom, the bedroom and to the patio outside. A house that he was
paying for. A house in which he was the sole provider. I didn’t respond to him.
Instead, I hid quietly in a corner of the short corridor, completely out of his sight,
rehearsing what I was about to tell him.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about. I’ve been thinking about this for
a while.” I would pause briefly and then continue. “I’ve been having trouble with
this relationship. And the reason I’m having trouble with it is because…” I would
then explain myself truthfully, hoping that the heavy emotion in my heart would
translate itself into open, honest verbal expression.
Regardless, it was a nice, quiet evening. Upon returning home, we sat outside on
the patio, enjoying the serenity and birdsong that came with the setting of the sun,
as we chatted about the day that was. As darkness set in and the air became chilly,
we moved into the house, mulling over what we should have for dinner. But I had
no intention of cooking. I knew I had to have this conversation with him and that
afterwards, dinner would be the furthest thing from our minds. The pressure
weighed down on me, making the atmosphere feel tense and ominous. He, on the
other hand, didn’t suspect a thing.“This looks really interesting,” I heard him say. Within a few seconds, he’d
pressed play, and his chosen viewing boomed from the television.
“Welcome to another episode of Sounds of the Cosmos. On this show, we uncover
the secrets of the universe hidden in ancient hymns from all around the globe.
What sacred knowledge did our ancestors have about the true workings of our
world and beyond? This is what we want to explore.”
I toyed with the idea of letting him watch the programme in peace and instead
come back in an hour when he was done. I fumbled about in the corner, arguing
with myself internally. Finally, I decided that it was now or never, despite how
appealing it was to postpone the talk. I took a deep breath and walked into the
living room.
He was seated lazily on the couch, completely sunken into the cushions, his legs
spread out and eyes glued to the television. He watched his favourite show with
a tired smile. I knew he was glad to finally be able to relax – yet here I was,
coming in to upset everything. I sat down next to him and glanced at the TV,
pretending I was settling down to watch too, when really, I was only buying time.
Finally, after a few seconds of gathering myself, I cleared my throat and turned
to face him.
“Um, can we talk about something?” I mumbled, barely audible above the TV.
He shifted his gaze towards me, and immediately, his eyes turned dark with a
knowing anticipation – a dark look that clearly said, “Here we go again.”
He paused the TV, and in the silence that followed, he replied in a tired, bored
voice, “Sure.”There was no turning back now. You’ve rehearsed this, I reassured myself. Just
go for it. “Um…” were the words that came out of my mouth. I looked at him,
and he, in return, held a steady gaze. This was hard for me. I thought about the
differences between us – how he was so brilliant at dealing with people and at
having difficult conversations. I was the exact opposite: completely averse and
avoidant of the sometimes unsavoury nature of life and the people in it.
“Well…so…um…” I stuttered underneath his continuing gaze. I scratched my
head nervously. “There’s something that I…I want to talk to you about. It’s…it’s
been on my mind for some time now, and I’ve been having trouble with this -
with our - relationship. And the reason I’m having trouble with it is because…” I
took a deep breath and bolted out with it. “Because it’s not a normal relationship.”
Silence. That was as far as my rehearsal had taken me. Now, it was time to speak
from the heart.
“I’m not really your girlfriend. We’re living together, and we do things together
and act as though we’re a couple, but we both know it’s not real. You have a wife
and children, and even though they’re in another country, I’m still just somebody
that you’re seeing on the side.”
This was a conversation we had had countless times throughout our seven-year
relationship. And each time, I was the one to initiate it, fuelled by pent-up
emotions – a dangerous cocktail of jealousy, inferiority and sadness waiting to
explode. It was almost always a teary affair. His reaction was always the same:
he always had a calm, measured response for all sorts of blame I would pile on
him, never once resorting to any kind of retort. And so, his easy, reassuring nature
would dim my jealous rage and draw me back in every time, and what began as
the occasional clandestine meeting had over the years morphed into thesemblance of a more concrete relationship. I gained more of him each time – more
of his time, his presence, even his adoration – but at the same time, I was losing
myself. I had quit my job a year earlier, confident that his financialsupport would
be enough to push me through as I searched for something else. I had lost my
friends, opting to spend all my time with him. And now, I was living in a house
that he was paying for, which he would visit often, and I couldn’t so much as buy
a packet of milk without having to ask him for the money to pay for it.
He sat in silence, giving me the floor to speak because he knew from past
experience that I had more that I wanted to say. I continued.
“I really like you, but I feel as though this relationship is alienating me from other
people that I love and care about. We spend a lot of time together, but I can’t tell
anybody about it because we can’t risk anybody knowing about us. So, in the
process, a lot of my life has become a secret, and it’s hard living this way.” I took
a deep breath before saying the words I never thought I would have the strength
to say. “I think we should take a break…or end this altogether.”
For a brief moment – and for the first time in our relationship – I felt as though I
had the power in my hands. Because even though he had always provided, there
was always a part of me that remained deeply unfulfilled, owing to the fact that
the man was never really and truly mine to begin with. Now, faced with the
possibility of losing me, he would beg me to reconsider – or so I hoped. He would
say that he would find a way to make this a real relationship – that we could be
together and not have to hide. Still, despite my ultimatum, I couldn’t deny the
fact that a small part of me wanted us to go on. He sighed deeply and rubbed his
forehead in exasperation. His response followed quickly and sharply.“Then I’d say we should end it.” He flicked one hand into the air as he spoke, as
though he was finally discarding something he no longer needed – like the years
we had spent together. His eyes settled on me with a dark, steady gaze. “That is
what you want, isn’t it?”
My throat began to feel constricted, as did my racing heart. This was not what I
wanted – he was supposed to ask me to stay, after which I would insist that we
had to part. It wasn’t supposed to be this easy. Had he been thinking about this,
too? I shook my head in private disbelief. Was it really over?
“Yes,” I croaked. “Yes, that’s what I want.”
Without so much as a moment of silence, he picked up the TV remote once more.
“Alright, then,” he said, and a few seconds later, he was tuned back in. Once
again, Sounds of the Cosmos blared throughout the tiny living room, picking up
where it left off as though nothing had happened.
“Today, we look at various sacred songs and dances from the African continent –
dating back thousands of years – and the links these rituals created to the vast
and magnificent Cosmos…”
Likewise, I picked myself up off the couch, slowly coming to terms with the fact
that this was indeed the end. My eyes began to fill steadily with painful tears, and
I chose to retreat into the kitchen, leaving him glued to the television. I held
tightly onto the kitchen counter, taking deep breaths with my eyes glued shut to
stop the tears from falling. Finally, with a heavy sigh, I opened my eyes once
again and reached for the tea bags I had stowed away in one of the cupboards.
The package read ‘Turmeric, moringa and lemongrass tea’: an unusualcombination, but if anything could help me calm down at this moment, it could
only be a hot, sweet, nourishing drink.
As the water heated on the stove, I could feel my own self-doubt bubbling up in
unison with the boiling liquid. If we were no longer together, where would I go?
Would he let me keep the house? Or would I have to move back in with friends –
friends who I had deserted years ago? It had been a year since I quit my job –
would I find work again? How would I support myself? A sickening worry filled
every inch of my bones, and I felt my stomach lurch and lunge with anxiety. Had
I made a mistake? How ridiculous would I look if I went back into the living room
and announced that I had had a change of heart? Maybe, just maybe, I could live
with the embarrassment.
I readied a cup with one tea bag and two teaspoons of honey. As I filled it with
hot water, the soothing aroma of the eclectic fusion of ingredients began to
surround me. Slowly and thoughtfully, I pressed the tea bag against the inside of
the cup, watching as the flavour emerged, turning the clear water into a deep
turmeric yellow. I would have to move out of this place as soon as possible, lest
I spent another seven years trying to leave this unsatisfying relationship. Maybe
I could turn to a family member who could take me in. A heavy sigh escaped from
me. Work may not be easy to come by, but at this point, I was willing to do just
about anything to get back on my feet.
Perhaps this wasn’t an end but a new beginning. Who knew what lay ahead – a
successful career? New friendships? A family of my own? Could all these things
really be mine?
“One ancient hymn from the heart of Central Africa tells us that in order to
receive the things we truly want, all we have to do is speak out into the Cosmos,letting the mysterious and ineffable power of the universe know that we are indeed
ready to receive.”
A smile crept across my lips. I wrapped my hands around the warm cup, soaking
in the heat through my palms. And as I took the first sip of the hot, sweet drink, I
uttered softly under my breath.
“I’m ready.”
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