The haunting.

Image: Pinterest.

For the longest time after you left me, I swear I saw you everywhere I went in this city that doesn’t care about anyone.

You in your black leather jacket, with your hands in the pockets, waving through the people like you own the town.

Your warm laughter bathing everyone listening to your ever enthralling stories.

I’d turn around to see and it wasn’t you.

The sound of your footsteps behind me as your boots hit the pavement.

The sound of a motorcycle outside my house late at night, waking me up, thinking you’ve come to pick me up.

The whiff of your scent as a stranger passes by me, almost stopping my heart, and my tracks in the middle of these Nairobi streets.

I swear I once saw you turning a corner down Moi Avenue.

I almost ran after you.

But deep down I knew it couldn’t be you because you swore I’d never see you again once you left.

That morning we had the mother of all fights, I dared you to walk away and that’s exactly what you did. Leaving me with a curse that you’d never show up ever again.

And that fear is what stills haunts me from time to time. The what if you were the one who got away?

Hoping that any random stranger with a black leather jacket is you so I can tell you to let me go to live my life without you.

I’ve been trying to write a blog post all week. So I’ll make a promise here to give you posts this week. That way I’ll walk around with guilt all week till I deliver. That’s how much I love you guys😁 See you soon. xo, Tess.