Published on February 13th, 2013 | by Guest86
The Love Letters: Letter #5
LETTER #5: Old Words, Still True (1/2)
From: Tracy Thomas <email@example.com>
To: Bolarinwa Thomas <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Sent: Wednesday, Feb 13, 2013, 10:24AM
Subject: Please help send
<Hide quoted text>
Hey Bola, having a good morning so far? Sorry I ran out of the house without coming to your room or saying anything this morning. I was late for the flight and I didn’t want to wake you. I even forgot some things… but I should be okay.
I got to the office and my editor started asking me to make some changes to this manuscript. It seems ironic that I’m writing a book on relationships, considering our current wahala but… it is what it is. Point is, I need some help. Do you still have a copy of your wedding vows? I know you emailed it to me before we used them, but you know I closed that account down, so I can’t find it.
Please, help me find a copy and mail it as soon as you can. I kinda need it.
Date: Feb 13, 2013 12:18PM
Reply From: Bolarinwa Thomas <email@example.com>
To: Tracy Thomas <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Subject: Re: Please help send
“I love you. More than just words, these three letters say all there is to know about us. All the way to the moon, as big as the sky, my love for you spans a distance the head can’t comprehend. But my heart can. So today, I speak these vows as my heart writes a cheque to be cashed over the course of the life I want to spend with you…”
Of all the things you could’ve asked me to send to you, it had to be this?
I don’t even know.
I thought I’d be able to just attach the file but I just had to open it and read everything I said… everything I thought would be —
I am not angry anymore… I’m not.
Anyway, so Tolu called this morning. He wants to know when he should meet up with your lawyer (what’s her face? I always forget) so we can start working through this whole process. I’m guessing she’s going to want me to move out of the house for you (which definitely is not happening), but I’m sure we can sort everything when you finally get back into town. I can’t believe we’re actually talking about ending this… after all’s said and done…
*sigh* … how did we even get here?
“I promise to love you even after I’ve grown bald… which may not be too long, judging from what we’ve seen so far. I promise to love you even when you yell at me ‘cos my feet stink or because I’ve left too many dishes in the kitchen sink.”
You laughed a lot when I said that; the whole church did.
But you made me laugh… sometimes it felt like I spent most of my days laughing at something you were saying, or laughing to myself about something I remembered that you’d said. You brought sunlight into my life.
Then you ripped it all away.
Why? Why’d you do it? I’ve asked you this question a million times haven’t I? Since the day I mistakenly took your phone to work and found out, in between forks-full of spaghetti on the dining table, with a toothbrush in my mouth while I’m standing in front of our bathroom mirror, driving us to church on a Sunday morning, where Pastor Mfon would be waiting to “counsel” us…
Sometimes, I think I’ve forgiven you. I think I’ve forgotten; but then something else brings it out. Two days ago, I met a young new engineer we just recruited at the office that is his namesake. Olisa. He introduced himself and shook my hand, and then commented, “Firm handshake you’ve got there”. He didn’t realize that I’d tightened my grip so I wouldn’t punch him in the face.
Sometimes, I think I’ve forgotten, and then you do something like ask me to send you the vows I wrote and said to you three years ago, in front of all those people; in front of God whom you claimed to love even more than you loved me. I read what I wrote and it breaks me.
“I stand before you, to give you my world; before God and man, I pledge to you this day, my life… my whole life.
I promise to be yours; t’ire nikan soso. Your man, your husband; olowo ori t’ire, in words and in deeds; I promise to love you, come what may.
I promise to stand by you. I promise to support you; to be your pillar when you get weak.”
Wasn’t that enough? Wasn’t I enough? Five years, three of them married; wasn’t I enough? Did I stop paying attention? Didn’t I tell you how beautiful you were? Didn’t I listen to every word that left your lips? Was it my fault? Was it something I said? Was it something I forgot to do?
No; I’m not going to do this again.
How am I supposed to do it? You ask me to stay; to forgive you, “It was a mistake… I never wanted to hurt you.” … I want to believe you. But I don’t know anymore. How am I supposed to stay? How am I supposed to kiss you and know that the tip of your tongue flicked across another man’s upper lip? How am I meant to wake up next to you, knowing that you broke the most important thing we had?
“I promise to keep my eyes on you. I promise to keep my heart for you. I promise to keep my mind on you. I promise to keep my body, just for you.”
What happened to this? Our vows were the same, here. I remember you said the same words when you got to this part of yours and I thought it was so amazing that we’d written the exact same thing. But what happened to that promise?
I know… I know I’m not supposed to dwell on it. You’re probably reading this email, telling yourself how this wasn’t what we discussed with Pastor Mfon yesterday. But right now, reading this just brought back everything… all the pain. I still want us to work things out, and fight for everything we were. I still want us to come to a place where I can forgive you, and we can put this behind us and move on.
I still… want to love you.
Anyway, I’ve attached the full file… I hope it helps with your manuscript.