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Tari Elise Nigeria
Student @ University of Cross River State
Port Harcourt, Nigeria
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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 2 min read
Letter from my Doorstep
<p><em>My soldier, </em></p><p><em>I got your letter at 7:02pm. It was found crumpled in your hands. The sun was going down and the children were asking why mummy’s hands were shaking. I couldn't bring myself to tell them that they wouldn't see u again, that they wouldn't hear ur voice, that they wouldn't hear their names from ur lips anymore.</em></p><p><em>I know this letter wouldn't get to you but I'm writing it anyways. </em></p><p><em>Don’t you dare apologize for not saying it to my face. You said it. In every plantain you burned and I still ate. In every time you came home tired and still asked about my day. I felt it.</em></p><p><em>The baby kicked while I read ur letter like she could feel mummy's heart was breaking. </em></p><p><em>I read the part about "live, laugh, remarry" and I threw the paper. Then I picked it up and read it again. </em></p><p><em>Listen to me: I will live. For us. For the children. For the life we started in that "slim backyard" with the "wrong toilet" that you said was a palace because I was in it. </em></p><p><em>But don’t ask me to be quick about it. Let me grieve you properly. Let me be angry at you for leaving. Let me talk to your picture at night and tell you about my day. Let me tell everyone what a hero u were. That’s not pain, my love. That’s love with nowhere to go yet. </em></p><p><em>You said you weren’t a hero. You were. Not because of the uniform. Because you came home to me in your heart every single day, even from the dirt at 2am. </em></p><p><em>I will cook that too-spicy jollof on Sundays. I will play our song until the neighbors complain. I will tell our children that their daddy was stubborn, funny, and the brightest star. And that he loved them very much.</em></p><p><em>I would love them for the both of us </em></p><p><em>The "exam" you were afraid of came. And we’re taking it. Me and the kids. And we will not repeat the cycle of fear. We will unlearn it. Because you taught us how to stand. </em></p><p><em>I look up every night. I found you. You’re right, you’re the most stubborn star. </em></p><p><em>Come home to me in my dreams tonight. And I’ll meet you there with hot tea and all the gist you missed.</em></p><p><em>I’m not letting go. I’m carrying you forward. </em></p><p><em><br/></em></p><p><em>Always your wife. </em></p><p><em>Always waiting, always moving. </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>

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