Dear Damola, The Gods Approve Of Me

Dear Damola, The Gods Approve Of Me

Sitting on my couch and listening to the lyrics of Emeli Sandé’s Hurt, I try to smuggle my way out of every emotion I suffered through, out of every pain I had to endure when I was with you, Damola. Because, thanks to you, for all the highs and lows I experienced with you, for every slap you struck across my face and later apologized for, for every hurtful word you used to describe me right before you took me in your arms and told me you didn’t mean that, and for every moment I had to endure and hide my pain, I have emerged a survivor with scars: a man who can no longer trust men.

These have all made me the person who cannot now bring himself to be with Franklyn.

Franklyn is the new man in my life – at least, he wants to be.

He is something of a nerd. Intelligent and energetic, he loves tennis.

He is quite snobbish, but his eyes soften whenever he sees me.

He has an annoying cackle of a laugh, and yet it washes over me like music whenever he laughs at a joke I’ve told.

I like the way he makes eye contact, looking at me with an intenseness that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world that matters to him.

I love that his voice is not deep, that tiny treble that is belied by his athletic build.

I love that he has an insecurity, which he attempts to cloak with his aloofness. The first time he acted rudely toward me, I was put-off. But then, I noticed how anxious he got whenever he saw me walking down the hallways of Alvan Ikoku hostel.

Franklyn wants to be everything to me, but I cannot bring myself to make that commitment, because a bug part of me still hates loving someone else and giving my all to them.

And this is because of you, Damola.

Sometimes, I think about the time we were together, and I wish I can see you again so I could ask you this: Was there ever a time you loved me?

Because love is not supposed to hurt the way being with you hurt me. Love is not supposed to cast anyone down the way yours cast me down. Your love was so toxic, it made me question who I am. Remember the one time we had a fight and you looked at me ugly and said you were done with this “gay shit”? Do you remember what you said to me?

“Even if it is Christian not to judge, the gods have never and will never approve of us! So, if we don’t stop, we are doomed.”

You had your battles, your demons, Damola, and you visited them upon me.

But since breaking up with you, since being away from you, I have come to a truth: that indeed, the gods approve of me. Whoever they are and whatever people worship them, the gods approve of me, Damola.

They made me.

They clothed me.

They asked me to choose my mother and I did.

They formed me.

They told me it was going to be hard.

But they told me I am special.

They told me I would do beautiful things.

They told me I was going to be a writer, and that through my words, I would put beauty in the world.

They called me a prince.

They said I am unique.

They told me to cry, even when I am undergoing the worst of it.

They told me to be sad sometimes.

But most importantly, they told me to laugh, because there would be days I’d want to kill myself and days I would lose hope.

They told me to be patient with love, that it would find me.

Once upon a time, I thought that love was you. But how could it be when you didn’t even think the gods approved of you?

And maybe now, Love is Franklyn, I don’t know. Deep down, I want it to be him. I want him to continue having these amazing conversations with me. I want his eyes to affirm his love for me, and his touch to heal what you have broken.

The day I will summon the courage to take that step he desires of me, I will talk to him about me. I will tell him my story, and I will tell him about his. I will tell him we went to the same secondary school, the one and only King’s College, and I will tell him that he was in Harman’s House. I will tell him that his reputation of fearlessness made everyone know about him.

I will tell him my story, and hope he will tell me his.

And until the gods give me a sign that he is the love that I have been patiently waiting for…

FUCK YOU, DAMOLA.

Written by TK

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  1. KingB
    March 21, 12:17 Reply

    Floreat guys!
    Dear I say that most KC guys are typically like Frankly ( aloof and snobbish) but beneath that facade is a soft loving heart. I remember back then , my friends BF will act somewhat snobbish to my friend during the day and at night, he’d scale the school fence just to buy suya for him and ensure he’s very very ok. I remember those things he did for my friend those nights and I just smile.
    I was in Panes House BTW.

  2. Black Dynasty
    March 21, 17:08 Reply

    Beautiful writing and I was going to leave it @ that, but the below caught my eye.

    “I want his eyes to affirm his love for me, and his touch to heal what you have broken.”

    I would like to offer some advice if I may, from one person who was badly damaged by a man to another.
    No man can heal what is broken, no man can be responsible for your happiness or joy… those expectations start the cracks in relationships that will always destroy it.
    I learnt that it is undue pressure for the one who loves you and looking for who will heal you is a never ending journey that will have number of failed relationships left in it’s wake as what you seek can never be found in another.

    The responsibility to heal you is for you alone and it starts with processing the hurt and understanding how to let it go as the past can never be undone.

  3. Saucebutton
    March 21, 21:47 Reply

    To heed advice is to grow. Franklyn will love you, is your duty to heal and find happiness and joy.
    Awesome write up, had to screenshots the part of you been affirmed by the Gods.

  4. Mandy
    March 22, 06:57 Reply

    I love the energy in your writeup. It’s really unfortunate that you can be by yourself, growing up to be a good, mentally-balanced, self accepting person, and then you meet someone who will just fuck you up psychologically. But I’m glad you are on your way back to healing. But like other commenters have said, that healing must be generated by you. Do not rely on Franklyn to be responsible for that. It won’t be fair on him or you. He needs to love someone, the You that is whole and healed and good, not the remnants of Damola’s fuckery. Otherwise, You will end up fucking him up too. And it’ll just be a vicious cycle.

  5. Ronnin
    March 23, 23:09 Reply

    Do not allow your past experiences with He who must not be names to ruin your chances at happiness once again
    its refreshing to know that at least you are on the path to self healing, you are and would always be a strong one

    That said and done…… FUCK DAMOLA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  6. Ade
    March 27, 07:58 Reply

    So KC BOYz full here!!! chaiiiii….We no dey Carry last….lol btw I was in Harman’s House…Set 09..
    Like they say “time heals all wounds but that presumes the source of the grief is finite” it’s a good riddance to damola…channel your heart to where love is and muuuvvveee!

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