I remember the first time I fell in love.

She was everything I never wanted but turned out to be everything I ever needed. Très cliché but true. We had our ups and downs, went back and forth on respect and boundaries. Boundaries was mostly me, I often didn’t know where to cross the line because I thought telling people you were in a relationship would prevent them from having ulterior motives and she struggled with communication, she bottled things up and as chance would have it, when we exploded, it was always together and that would make the problems worse.

She was my one in a million; love at first sight, perfect first kiss and she brought religion to the table. We could never agree on religion but we agreed God had to be a part of our everything.

When you are with someone long enough, you eventually rub off on one another and in the end, I was the one with bottled up words and she forgot there had to be boundaries. After saying the things I had held in, we went our separate ways.

Between then and now I tried my hand at dating, relationships and being single. Within months I knew I wasn’t built for being single but getting back into the dating game was more complicated then I anticipated. Some said “I love you” too early and others wanted to be loved according to an instruction manual I never got a copy of. I tried living up to the new rules but the more I was “boyfriending” right, the less in love I felt, so finally I accepted that falling in love was a lot harder than I thought it was.

Just as I was about to find solace in the thought of being in a relationship and not the actual joy of being in one, I found another one in a million, not a love at first sight but someone who knew the right things to say, someone who wished to understand more than she wished to be understood and even though she didn’t bring religion, we knew this had to be God’s plan for us. She had been hurt, so she didn’t rush to say words she wasn’t sure of and for me that showed character but I wasn’t in love.

I was hers and she was mine but my heart wasn’t something we shared. I waited till she was in love before I could follow suite. Due to my failed relationships I became a man afraid to love and so I needed the other to say or do something before I could believe this could work. It could have been anything, something as simple as saying they are tired of leaving with tears in her eyes when time would come for us to return to our relative houses or staying up helping me study, it could be anything as long as it convinced my heart it was safe to open up.

It then dawned on me that I wasn’t taught to love, so love was and still is something that scares me. I was raised to work hard and provide, I was raised to marry and make a family but never taught how to be a family man. Never taught how to treat my wife or engage with my children, my parents never sat me down and told me the mistakes they made, it seems like they were hoping for the one in a million chance that I would get it right on my own by imitating what they had. In a world where nothing is perfect, is that a reasonable expectation?

In thinking of my future, I realized a lot of it depends on how the flow of the life will go. I don’t know what to do if my kids do not get along, I don’t know what to do when life gets tough because the adults handled it but I don’t know what they did. I just know after a few tears, weeks after phone calls and angry stares at the dinner table, “everything is going to be okay” came to pass.

I’m glad that they did it together and so I learnt that my partner and I should do it together but I still don’t know how, would it kill them to tell me how? Would it kill them to prepare me for the future with more words than “God is in control”?

Sex is different from intimacy, which differs from love. I know sex isn’t love and unfortunately it took a few nights and rounds of bad decisions to figure it out.

In my escapades to love, I made a few discoveries and if I could go back in time, these are the three things I wish I knew before my first time.


I wish I knew you can’t get it back. Yes, I know people say that once you lose your virginity it doesn’t come back but for those of us who realized too late that we wasted something special on someone underserving, allow us. Honestly you can keep the title of being my first time, just give me back my damn memories. Having to mention you when my future love asks where did it all begin is a reminder of something I don’t need. Wanting your virginity back isn’t silly or strange, It’s kinda like death, you grow up knowing it’s permanent and you can accept it but once someone passes away, you wish you could go back. You pray for their return and for the longest time I prayed for it back.


Sex is great, making love is nice and being with someone with clear intentions is indescribable. I just wish I knew to first understand the intentions of those I shared my soul with. Lust or love, both fulfill the same urge and both involve you but doing something with the right intentions with the wrong information leads to nothing but heartache. I should have done more research or maybe shown signs that I would have been more receptive of the truth. I continued feeding the flesh hoping it was love. I must admit I didn’t learn this lesson on my own, someone said she loved me and wanted to show me love and after years of putting her all into it, I finally understood the need for mutual intentions.


Sex isn’t enough. You can only find so much pleasure in a painful situation. Good sex, great sex and even the best sex won’t make it work or fix your relationship. It keeps the clock running, so you can say you were still together even after the communication has broken down and what brought you together has left the sheets. Don’t break your soul hoping you can mend another, don’t use your body as a sacrifice wishing for a better tomorrow because if that person leaves, you will have to spend a longer period trying to get their touch erased from your muscle memory.

Time is the greatest teacher of all and I’m still learning but these are the things I wish I knew before sex. Male, female, not everyone sees sex the same. Some see it as something with a purpose. This has nothing to do with body count, a high body count may lead to experience and discovering what works best for you, this is more about choice and making sure the choice is always yours and you are making an informed choice.

To each their own and you should do it your way.



God, I’m drowning. I fell into the waters months ago but only now do I accept that I’m drowning. It feels good to admit, feels good to get it off my chest but it doesn’t help me swim better nor do the people around the waters notice that I’m not okay.

I’m supposed to be but I’m not and they can’t see it, so they keep throwing me into their worlds thinking that mine is intact while in fact everything is falling apart. I’m the one they run to, so maybe I was there for them too much so they can’t see I need someone or maybe that’s why they don’t know how to be there for me.

I sometimes wish someone could just hug me but then I’m terrified I will break down in tears and when they ask what’s wrong, I won’t be able to explain. Do I tell them I contemplate suicide, do I tell them I want to disappear and just run away or do I say I’m afraid their reasons won’t be enough to make me stay?

I’m tired of feeling wrong for not being able to help them, I’m tired of feeling like I’m to blame for their decisions because I can’t solve them. I’m tired of existing for everyone but me, yet all this loneliness does is make me want to bring joy to others because I never want to see them where I am. I’m tired of being ask when I’m going to post something new.

I’m afraid to be alone now, so I find excuses to make sure I’m not, I got tired of the thoughts burying my logic and risking ending it all. I thought of getting help but the people I turned to let me down, I begged, I pleaded and all I got was a broken heart and wounded ego. My ego hurt because I believed when they said they would always be there, so I staked my pride on their loyalty and my heart is broken because I needed them to mend the pieces and they saw no need to.

I have began a journey of amends, trying to fix what I can, where I can. Broken friendships, broken relationship, so just in case I lose this battle, none of them should be worry or feel they could have done better.

I don’t even know why I wrote this or if I will post this. Writing stopped being my medicine years ago, it moved from healing to being a coping mechanism. I became numb and convinced myself that words on the pages were the best way to deal with everything. Guess I was wrong.

I was told years ago that happiness and misery are like the sun and moon, because you see one doesn’t mean the other isn’t there. You just need to wait for its turn to shine on you. So I shall wait for the moon to pass.