Being single isn’t fun. I miss having a husband. No matter his faults or shortcomings, I miss Kunle. I miss sleeping beside his warm body, now I have to stack pillows on his side of the bed to sleep. I miss cuddling. He always rubbed my back and feet every night, he never missed it. At first I didn’t like the idea but with time I warmed up to it. By the second year of our marriage, I lived for those back and foot rub. Kunle had a way with his hands on my body that brought peace to my aching muscles and tired mind. While he did it, we would talk. Kunle was my sounding board. I ran all my ideas by him and he always had inputs or suggestions that made a lot of sense. Even if he didn’t know what to say, the fact that he listened was soothing to me. The nights we laid awake talking and laughing were a blessing to me.
In the morning, my husband would sleep while I got ready for work. At first, I made up excuses for his inability to keep a job. I wasn’t comfortable with it but I believe love covers a multiple of sins. I would kiss him goodbye and leave the house to make money for two. My family was furious with me. My mother and Faith, my eldest sister, could not understand why. I tried to explain it as a phase Kunle was passing through and in time he would overcome it, Faith shut me up with ‘when will that be?’. Fisayo, my younger sister who is soft and everything good in this bad world, was sympathetic but try as she might, with her reasoning and our upbringing my explanations did not stand a chance.
I loved my husband. He did not have a job, so what? I had a job and was willing to feed and clothe my family. He was not a NFA (No Future Ambition), he just had dry spells too often. By the time Bola was born, I knew those spells had to pass or become less frequent. Babies are expensive creatures who eat, cry and poop. Our hope for Bola was the best of everything, for me the best started with her father have a steady income to provide for her needs. I gave him an ultimatum to get his act together and get a job. I was less concerned about what kind of job or how much it paid so far as he got one that paid him monthly. He did get a job. I was impressed. My husband worked so hard, I thought he would die of exhaustion. He worked the job nine months and BAM! he hit another dry spell. It became his cycle. There are so many things demanded of a wife, being the breadwinner and sole provider for her family isn’t one of them.
Maybe I pushed him to hard, demanded a lot from him or didn’t give him the chance to rise to occasion. Maybe I took the spotlight from him and didn’t let him shine in his own house and family or I acted like his mother instead of his wife. Maybe, maybe, maybe… I still wonder where I got it all wrong. I would give anything to back in time and change so many actions and decisions but the die is cast, the ink on the papers dry and my husband has moved on with his life.
Why do I find it difficult to move on with mine? Why do I lay awake at night missing him so much and shedding tears like a flowing river? Why do I hurt so bad? Sometimes it takes sheer willpower to get up in the morning, prepare Bola for school and get ready for work. TY, my sisters and mother tell me the pain will pass, it will get lighter and better. When will that be? I just can’t wait for my life and the life of my daughter to return to normal or at least have a little bit of normalcy because we just can’t go on missing him forever.