Thursday, November 06, 2008

Love Now

I'm more selfish now of our time. Sometimes you find this cutely childish, laugh and beg off my worries that there is never enough time. I'm back and we have all the time, you like to reassure me. I let you believe a lot of the time that your soothing banter is right. Only you don't know I pause, when you are speaking, to watch you, listen to you, literally drinking all of you in quietly ecstatic!

I thought the years would bring calmness to me. A confident husband's taciturnity now that you're mine, perhaps reach that plateau where I can with other men complain affectionately of your nagging ever presence. Among friends in a bar, look at my wrist watch, sigh, and tell them, "Wife-time" no more and they would understand why I would have to hurry out of there. It has not happened.

The calmness I know now is not the sort of calmness I always thought I would know when I came into kissing intimacy with perfect happiness. The calmness of our dusky Saturday evenings, your legs over my tummy, lying in bed in silence, our fingers interlocking and tumbling out of each other like fumbling harmless puppies. Friday nights, chicken barbecuing nights, watching Mulefu work, smiling in anticipation of the feast to come—you asking please, please, please tell me which movie you bought this week, come on! Sunday afternoon in Kampala, from visiting people we must visit, slacks-wearing, leisurely-walking to Canaan Restaurant on Uganda House, Kampala road—Kampala was never a town you loved before, and walking this road never meant as much to me as it does now, walking it with you, we talk about everything. You laugh a lot and it makes me want to make you laugh ever more. Erasing all memories of loneliness I used to know on these streets.

Few pleasures in my life compare to the spine-tingling thrill when I'm home early, in our house, working on Silver Bullitt, hear your tinkling bell-like clear voice, hailing our neighbours from a distance, making your way to our door, me waiting you. And you know I'm home because the windows are open, the curtains are thrown back, and sometimes our door is ajar. Every day it happens, it's like it has never happened before. My heart starts racing. All over again it is like that afternoon before the one o'clock lunch summons, when I heard your voice, you speaking to someone else behind me, and I prayed before I turned my head round to look and see who was speaking, Lord let her be beautiful, please let her be beautiful because I think I'm already in love with her. Though I don't know her, she might not like me; she might even not be single, she is the one. Then I turned. Every day is like that, when first I hear your voice, before I see you, waiting to see you.

I was not used to considering anyone else's needs before. How the change came about, I'm still trying to understand. The first I knew you, you were like me. When did your change begin? Niyenda kumanya.

{This will be continued...sometime...I hope...:-)}

6 comments:

The Emrys said...

oh man, this is amazing!!

Sybella said...

oh yes it is...

really beautiful...

B2B said...

i concur with all above Iwaya...

Anonymous said...

I love the way you write.

Mudamuli Ntikita Ntikita said...

I love the fact that 'every day it happens, it's like it has never happened before.'

Beautifully written.

Anonymous said...

Oh God, I've been gone a few months and you have become even softer than ever-if that were possible...
you never cease to amaze me but this is beautiful...
phoenix