The Lady and the Seer

PicMonkey Collage

A lady went to a seer to talk about the one she loved, whom she wasn’t with anymore. She said to the seer, “I miss him. I wonder if he misses me. I wonder if he’s coming back. I’m so depressed, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The seer said “okay”, and looked away. Of course, that wasn’t a satisfactory response for the lady. 

She said “I miss him” and “I wonder if he’s coming back” again, hoping to get some sympathy, and maybe some insight into what the future held for her.

Then he replied, “I’m sure you do, I’m sure you wonder”.

“Well, do you have any advice for me?”, she said, after two minutes had passed, two heavy minutes that felt like 30.

“I don’t have any”, he said. “You choose to miss him, so allow yourself to miss him. Be true to yourself.” The he adds, “but ask yourself, how long are you going to do this for?”

She broke into tears, and he took a step back. 

“Who is in charge of you?” Who controls what happens up there?”, he asked, pointing to his head. 

“I do”, she replied.

“Who is in charge of your mind, your body, your self? Of course, missing him and letting yourself be miserable is what you’re choosing to do, what do you expect me to do, become you? Do you think I have any power over you? Do you think of yourself as a robot that has to be controlled by someone else to survive/function?”

She stopped crying and wiped her tears.

“If you want to choose to miss him, miss him. If you want to choose to be in denial, and wait for something that isn’t coming, wait. If you want to choose to move on and do something good with yourself, do it. It’s not my business or problem. You’re choosing to do something and asking me to help you stop. Ultimately, you get to choose whether or not you want to suffer, and if suffering is what you have chosen to do for this long, so be it. You’re a wonderful soul; don’t be so dense. Healing is a choice- choose it.”

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Narcissus

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Richard Baxter – Narcissus and Echo (2000) – Detail

“I don’t love her
but I want to be loved by her.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?
You want her, right?”

“No, but I want her to want me.”

Dead Love

womanShe always had to ask if he loved her, and he often replied with a “yeah, yeah, love you, sure I do. Why do you keep asking?”

She was looking for the Àjọkẹ́, s’ó n gbọ́ mi? Mo nífẹ̀ẹ́ rẹ. The I am in love with you that was often said with a soft voice and a pleading gaze; it was what she was used to, what she had taken for granted. It was what she really wanted.

She hated herself for hurting a man who used to declare his love for her ever so often, sometimes with tears in his eyes, because he did so. 


There could be two different men in this piece, or just one man [the same man], depending on how you choose to interpret it.

Unrequitedly Requited

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“African Woman” by Konstantin Yegorovich Makovsky [Oil Painting]

“I love you.”

My heart froze, but not out of fear. It was beating very quickly, and I could have sworn it was having continuous orgasms, if I had to describe the feeling. I wasn’t afraid anymore; I was nervously, intensely relieved.

He loved me.
He loved me.
He. loved. me.
Oh, God.

Then he continued, and right after he did, I wished that he hadn’t.

“I love you two, you and Leidy.”

Wait, one second! Did he say “I love you two” earlier or “I love you too”?

“You both mean so much to me and I’m lucky to have you as sisters from another mum.”

I immediately burst into laughter, and for some reason, he began to giggle too.

“You both are my babies.”

Well, he just didn’t know when to stop, did he? 

I began to laugh even louder. I laughed so much so that tears began to run down my face.
He was laughing because I was laughing; I was laughing because I thought I had just made a fool of myself, and I was deeply hurt. If he was laughing because I was laughing, he was laughing because I had made a fool of myself, because I was deeply hurt.

I so desperately wanted to sink into the ground and disappear or fly on the angel of death’s wings and never return. He loved me, that was good, but not the way I wanted to be loved.