In My head at the Gazebo

Posted: June 15, 2016 in Daydreams, Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , ,

I sit at the gazebo and dream. Of course it’s about a boy; dreams about taking over the world are for after office hours. Yes, I have scribbled down our names, all the combos you can imagine plus the ones you cannot. Mrs.X, The Xs, Mr and Mrs. X, Mrs. Awinja-X, X Junior, A+X, I could go on for days; ok not days, just minutes.

I’ve pictured us sitting on a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g; at the park holding hands watching the puppies pee on the tree, at a random coffee shop sharing a milkshake because how else do people drink those things, under the moonlight counting the stars; naming the brightest ones after ourselves. I have pictured the grand proposal; because every romance movie needs at least 10 small mushy scenes that lead up to that one grand romantic gesture which is completely integral to the whole production. There was a cello, 4 violinists and one bassist because you know I’m all about that. It was in the Mara in one of those exclusive luxury tent-rooms, the ones that open up to the vast expanse that is, the wild. The elephants watched and the lions roared for an encore. The band obliged because, well, they were lions. It costed you a pretty penny but who can put a price on love? Well am sure your accountant did but who cares about him when you are trying to make a statement? We’ll deal with it later, with the joint accounts and joint credit cards because yes, we will be joined at the hip and we will shower our unsuspecting friends’ timelines with photos of our every waking moment. Our lives will be the inevitable talk of the town and you will love it; the love, the marriage, the triplets in the neutrally coloured baby carriage, the whole nine yards and then some.

I have pictured us in the bedroom (no silk sheets please), the bathroom (with all the steam of course), on our Persian hand woven living room carpet (it’s not as soft on bare skin as they claimed on the ad), on the kitchen counter which I have now imagined how unhygienic it will be. We’ve been in my X-5, your Q7; I didn’t know the seats went down that far. Like the wise men said; ‘Baby, you and I are nothing but mammals so we do it like they do on the discovery channel.’ Of course we cuddle after, I watch you sleep, I run my fingers down the side of your face, your lips, and you don’t even shift. You already know I watch you sleep sometimes so you no longer get freaked out when you wake up in the middle of the night and see my black form and white eyes staring. Remember the first time you bust me watching you, you almost jumped through the window. Thankfully you remembered we were on the fifth floor just in time. You slept on the couch that night so I brought you breakfast in ‘couch’. I knew I’d have to go through your stomach to speak to your heart so I made you the whole spread; English, American and Kenyan combo. By the time you were done, you had told me I could stare at you the whole night so long as I don’t do it too obviously so I don’t creep you out next time.

That night as I fell asleep on your chest, hearing your heart beat, feeling your chest rising and falling, you kissed me goodnight and I truly felt one with you, heart, body, mind and soul. You saw the weird in me and you stayed.

I have pictured every kiss and every time our lips touched, I would feel a tingle in my toes. I see your smile every day and it tickles every fibre of my being. Every time you call my name even if just to ask for a pen, every time you giggle, laugh and especially at my jokes, aiyaiyai I can’t even! Remember those times I’d call you then claim I forgot what I wanted to say? I just wanted to hear your voice so I have material for my dreams that night. Why do you think I’d always ask you to send a voice note instead of texting? I have some of them on my playlist and you will also find them under ‘recently played’ and ‘most played’.

I’m not out of mush yet. Here is the thing; I think of you before I sleep, replaying almost every word you spoke to me. I pray for you and yours sometimes more than for me and mine. I think of you when I wake up. When I pick out clothes to wear, at the back of my mind I picture how you would see me. I have caught you staring at me a few times, you denied it of course but I know you. There is a sort of gentleness in your eyes, mixed in with the desire; a desire fueled by respect, honest admiration and what I hope is a pinch of love.

It’s really not a big deal, these are just random and sometimes intentional thoughts that run through my head, material for my stories I call them because who are we if we can’t find the story in every waking moment.

These are the things I think about at the gazebo. I also think about world peace, poverty eradication and the overall wellbeing of mankind; it’s not always about you.

me

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Comments
  1. […] lit mosquito coil scent soothes me believe it or not. It reminds me of days gone by,  a past I cannot get back and part of which maybe I wouldn’t even want to get back. Some find […]

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