One Half Of Us.

God made us all in pairs.

Having heard that since we were old enough to understand the storey of Prophet Nuh and the Ark, there was this settled faith somewhere inside of me that out there somewhere was my meant-to-be half. Its only recently that i realized that I had serenely accepted that I was a part of an equation. That I thought of myself as a half. Not a whole person. But a half. Did that mean that until I meet someone in life, I will drift through life feeling incomplete? Did I, on the outside, go though the motions of a full happy life all the while inside feeling that some jigsaw piece was missing?

Falling in love is soon followed by falling into a couple. Unless of course that preceded love. And it does sometimes. By force of habit, by routine, by chance. You just fall into someone’s pattern of living, being, thinking, and suddenly you no longer belong to yourself. You are connected by some cosmic connection to this one other person- without whom you will be at odds, waiting for their re entry to feel useful again.

Society conspires to confirm that feeling as well. With K having recently been away for stretches of time on work, I got used to the odd comment of how “listless” I was looking. Or “bored”. Funny how my looking bored and listless before never deserved comment. Or was it now because Im part of a whole that my being a half even for 10 days is glaringly obvious?

K came back tonight. And as I walked towards the door to open it, I was acutely aware of this sense of homecoming. Of everything suddenly being right in in the world. In the past 10 days, I had missed him yes, undoubtedly, but the sudden peace in my heart took me by surprise. Was it feeling relieved? Relaxed? Or…just whole?

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jammie

people who know me...know me.

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