Our past expeditions are still engraved in my hearts as fine prints. They are echoes of felicity impressed in the walls of time worthy of keeping as reminiscence. They are Moments of the past that blossoms in my head as a new day, with clear pictures of our times together in its beauty.

Even the hardest time could tell how we went through her, bearing witness of the fortitude of our love, and sharing stories that come with it. Stories I can’t tell in the cycle of time. Stories that could only be understood by those whose hearts are swaddled in love like ours.

It behooves me to remind you of how we bonded. How our hearts connived with each other to stay together, beating down strongholds. How we once saw each other as adversaries, but later grew to learn how to keep our overwhelming joy in order whenever we meet.

My Dear, don’t say that I am blabbing. Every single word I utter of our time past is strapped to my heart just as you are confined in me. Everything we’ve had is eternally expedient. From every present we have weaved into the past to the feature we have groomed from the present, they are memorable.

I have conquered oblivion to bring to knot the evocations of our merry days for a reason: you have sworn to leave me and it doesn’t speak well of you. You have resolved to whisk away our times of ecstasy and never look back. I don’t know why you wish to forget our jollies and glees. It is so uneven.

Does it mean that those days I made sensation run through your spines don’t matter to you anymore? Do you want to make me believe that the deep affections that creamed your face with elation have been washed away by time? I can’t believe it. Not when you asked for more. Even your smile contained every bit of it. If you would say a word, then I would let you go.

I have been standing here hoping you would let me know a thing or two, but you have kept mute. I have communed with you from the depth of my heart; still, you have chosen silence over me. Have your affections for me gone into extinction? You used to be very fond of my presence, what happened? Where did all those radiance we birth each time we are together left to? Are we now impotent to make love happen? Please let me know.

At some point in my life, I’ve known heartbreak dished with miseries, yet none of them has left me with so much despondency or despair. I have crossed my fingers to paddle a boat alongside the woman I love, but all of a sudden she decides to vanish into nowhere. She wants to cut the short.

Mindless of how I feel, I would still spill the truth. Maybe If I told the truth, then she would shine her lights at me.

Ever since I knew her she has never for once pissed me off. She loved everyone around her and shared peace wherever she went. Every day that comes by, her goodwill blooms and glows on people she meets. The only thing she had she couldn’t share was me, and I was never ready to give in to that.

I’ve always believed we would grow old together to tell our descendants how strong our bond is, but this last 1 year has proven otherwise. You’ve been away from me, and for this reason, I’ve run short of your love because I have found no one to make me feel the way you make me feel. I couldn’t even search!

Well, I’m sorry for laying accusations on you. I knew you couldn’t help it. What else would you have me do when misfortune has decided to sweep away what I hold very dear? All the touches of the past I have rained into the present were to see if it could bring you home to me since I know you love me. I know I have thought otherwise, nevertheless, I have found my way back to the truth.

We decided to walk down the aisle to give our love a fertile ground to breed, but the most unfortunate ripped off our joy that very day. It was a gruesome experience as we watched our euphoria wrapped into anguish. We were taken down from the seventh heaven into the darkest underworld.

We had just said yes to each other as ordered by the priest when we heard a hard sharp crack underneath our feet, and suddenly, we were engulfed below the podium. We were immediately buried into its ruins. These turned the whole church into disarray and everyone went topsy-turvy.

I couldn’t remember much that happened except that I woke with a fractured leg, went through three medical surgeries. My wife has one today, and it would be her 7th operation.

She hasn’t said a word to me. She is either awake with a fixed gaze to the roof or she is on a wild coma ride. She is always a numb of people around her.

I will wait patiently. The doctor promised me that this last operation would be a trigger for a miracle. It means that I would hear her tell me how much she loves me. On the other hand, she would hear me cushion her wound with sweet words of how I yearn to have her back home to me. She would love it.

Hope is back to my abode again, and rivers of joy overflowing my bowels. Finally, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and the sun is set to shine brighter again. The knowing that she would say or respond to my words are like fireworks in my veins and has got my heartbeat making rhythm like the sound of an African cowhide drum. Every piece was wrapped up in a redeeming expectation.

I called my family and friends to inform them. They all came down with flowers, balloons, cakes, cards, and many gifts. It was as if the wedding we didn’t enjoy was to begin again. We all made a joke and cheered in joy. I told stories of how we started, how I spent time every day in the hospital waiting for her to say a word, and how we would go on a vacation. It was glorious!

Nobody noticed how the nurses raced and hurtled in and out of the theatre. They were all engrossed in my love story, and I was good with that. I finished my story and then dived into poetry. I read it all to them, and they prepped me on how to perform it to the Queen of my heart.

On the edge of the cliff, after a long wait, the doctor appeared with a burning sad look, walked up to me and mumbled, “I am sorry, we lost her.”