I don’t miss him, I miss who I thought he was.
         -Anonymous

Dear Husband,

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I am wife

I am wife.

This is us, living on the fast lane. Not really for me, but when you are married to someone doing so, you would be sitting on it before you know it.

The thing with addictions are how quickly they make every other thing and person around us secondary. Your favorite wife -that bottle, gets all the kisses these days, I sit here playing bullet proof to our child. Still, my heart beats with uncertainty for how long I shall be able to keep her resting so oblivious to the darkness you have become behind me.

I am woman, I bend not break.

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I am woman, I bend not break

Nobody keeps a lit candle under their bed for long, most times they realise the impossibility of what they are trying to hide and move to put it off. This steelness my man, look at me, take my hands again. Stoop to conquer they said. How did we get here?

I am the glass cup housing the boiling water.

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The extra plea

These sips are tearing us apart. I hate what you have become with everything in me. Or is it what you were? You know,  they say people don’t change, the mask merely falls off.  I am the glass cup housing boiling water, I cracked, now I break. I cannot shield our child any more, despite the innocence of children, they have the right intuition for their ages.

She knows something is wrong my man! And even if you think she doesn’t, should she cry because I cry? Beg because I beg? 

I am a thousand pieces of shattered glass.

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My man, you would, you should understand this, because you think in bottles.

I was wife

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The sips won, two have become two.

I feel for a moment that you stretch to drag me back.

Illusion.

It is your fingers, pointing out the dearth of us. Telling me to go and never return.

The streets, like my heart and bag, are dark and empty. Yet they feel brighter than what we have become.

My man, let me tell you the strangest thing about Divorces; there is no victor, we are both vanquished.

Wife.(Was)

After note: Once again, Photography meets prose!  This piece which is the sad reality of a lot of women, was inspired by the Photo story album titled ‘Divorce’ by Lagos based creative lifestyle and events Photographer -Buchi Okereafor.
https://m.facebook.com/BuchiPhotography

As soon as I saw the Photographs, I knew I wanted to translate them from Lens to Pen.

Models: Prisca Ilozumba as wife
               Folarin as Husband
               Little Kamsiyonna as Child.

Wedding gown: Joke Shallangawa

Makeup: Glamourous by J.shally.

Spread the word, savour your love men, not the Sips!

Olori Achalugo.

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