You love me. You love me. At least that's what you can't seem to keep from telling me. I believe it, at least I believe that you believe it, and that's good enough, most times.
You love me. Because I make you feel good, I make you feel happy, because you think I've got a pretty face, because I've got a decent personality; I'm the caring, kindhearted respectful girl who your friends envy you for having at your side. Because I'm loyal and faithful and I love you too. Because we have such beautiful moments of great conversation, tinkling laughter and pure undiluted joy. Moments where we could either kiss softly wrapped in the warm cocoon of our love on feather-stuffed beddings, or moments where we trudge through the nasty Lagos traffic in the hot sun, cursing under our breaths. Still, moments of happiness, because you love me, and I love you.
But on days, some days, my halo falls off. On those days I'm short tempered, I'm cranky, I'm difficult. On those days your friends try to cheer me up and I snarl at them baring bloodied fangs, causing them to recoil in fear, and you to twist in embarrassment. On those days I'm fastidious, I'm distant and I eschew even your greatest efforts to show me love. On those days I know that I should soften a bit but my mind isn't having it so the more you pull, the more I push, until I push you away. And then you hate me, on those days.
On those days you hate me I revel in your displeasure, but only for a moment. My reveling passes in a flash and is quickly replaced by fear; what if your hate, unlike my unpleasant moments, isn't just a passing phase. What if in those moments you hate me, your contempt is so intense it pales every cause I gave you to love me. Or worse yet what if it passes but fails to revert to love and leaves you in a place numb and cold, and so you become, to me, indifferent. What if you just from there stop loving me?
On these days I want you to know, that I'm the same woman you love, that those moments of my unwelcome display are only transient, mainly resulting from some discontent, discomfort or displeasure. Or probably simply because of the occasional unwanted, yet recurring mood swings.
So please remember that these moments are few and far between (I promise), and that beneath the cloak of irritation, is a love that burns so bright, for you. In those moments, hard as it may be, I yearn for you to be patient with me, and no matter how hard I test you, still love me. In some of those moments, is when I need your love the most.
So yes, I sit across from you and I see that the soft curves of your face have turned to sharp edges, I see your jaw clenched and I watch you tense. And I know, today is one of those days your love for me falters. It hurts, because I brought it on, but please as day washes away the darkness of night, let it wash away your aversion, and as day is rebirthed, rebirth your love for me, even fresher, stronger and more pure.
And I promise to do the same on days I hate you.
Relationships aren't "rainbows and butterflies" (in the words of Adam Levine), some days they are mud and a pot of burnt beans. Can you relate to this? Tell me about the days you absolutely hate your partner, and the days you make them hate you! And tell me how you've been, I know I've been a bit scarce, I pray you forgive me, it's outside my control.