Sometimes I feel that all I do is that I don’t cry.
I think of him every single minute. E empty minutes, when he is not here.
I should be six months pregnant and my belly is empty.
Empty.
I watch a cheesy sex scene in a romantic movie. A good one actually I’m crying my heart out and man, I am critical, I hate movies. I heard all the voices in my head, voices of Sanyika and sceptic, we-know-better guys I watched movies with, my father. “Bah, disgusting.” “Right and here comes the sex scene.” “I’ll grab a coffee, want some popcorn?”. No. No! This is not cheesy. This is how it should be. Love. It is not brave, not tough, not embarrassed, not self-conscious, not apprehensive, not full of excuses, sarcasm, it’s not the right thing to be tortured about, not the right thing to think of the smells, to want something else. Life is not cheesy. Just LOOK.