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The need to be loved, wanted, and cherished by a special person will either make us or break us. Mastering the power of letting go is a survival tactic that could be our deliverance. If I don’t die is a short story on the need to know when to let go.
I have been staring at the almost lifeless body of Rahama lying in the hospital bed with the oxygen mask over her nose and the line from the drip that’s pierced through her veins. If only she had listened to the inner voice that had screamed to her to master the power of letting go.
The last time I heard her voice was a month ago. She sat in front of her dressing mirror, lost in thoughts, and spoke in a low tone. She said, “If I don’t die, I hope I learn.” I wondered what she meant because it seemed like even she didn’t know what she was talking about. She just knew that she needed to make a very difficult move.
For as long as I’ve known Rahama, she was the weakest lover-girl every time she fell in love. She never knew how to walk away when she needed to. The need to be loved in that special way by a very special someone was a driving force for her. Her breakups were always suicidal. Rahama could never exist by herself as a single woman.
I remember when we were invited to attend a seminar that was titled “The Power of Letting Go.” It was such a struggle to get her there. She hissed and frowned her face throughout the seminar. Her conscience pricked her because most of the examples and instances that were used in the lecture seemed to be directed at her.
She met Hashim at the airport on her way back to Nigeria to attend her sister’s wedding. It was a pleasant flight, as she shared a seat with him through the flight to Nigeria. They exchanged numbers and became inseparable from then on. Hashim would surprise Rahama with expensive gifts, romantic dinner dates, getaway trips….she was living the dream with her new lover.
It was difficult for Rahama to have noticed any red flags with Hashim because she had just come out of a terrible relationship with a man who was a serial cheat. An unapologetic serial cheat who didn’t care about how his actions made Rahama feel. Sadly, even when she knew about his waywardness, she couldn’t bring herself to let go.
Rahama behaved like her ex-boyfriend was her lifeline. As if her organs were deposited with him. When he threatened to break up with her, she cried her eyes out and went over to his house to beg him. She called his mother and brother to beg him. It was such an embarrassment to watch her behave in that manner. She simply did not have the power to let go.
It took the efforts of her friends and family to force Rahama away from her ex. A holiday was planned for her, a few friends, and family to the UK. Unknown to Rahama, it was planned to prevent her from hearing about her ex’s wedding. She could have died. The trip was meant to help her groom the power to let go.
She was informed of the wedding and everyone took the time to encourage her one after the other. She was told that she had a kind heart and was so beautiful that she could get the best of men if she waited patiently. Once everyone was done talking, she said, “If I don’t die, I will be a wreck.” She believed that dying was the best option for her. She saw no good in herself without a man. Rahama measured her worth by the presence of a man in her life.
Everyone was scared for her. She could not be left alone for fear that she might kill herself. It took Hashim coming into her life to make everyone relax. She became happy again. Nobody knew if this happiness would last or if it was going to be short-lived. She was still loving without a care, like a teenager, and not thinking about mustering the power of letting go if it all went south.
Just a couple of weeks later, Hashim called her and broke up with her over the phone. He was leaving the country and thought they should go their separate ways. She begged him and suggested that they get married and relocate together, but Hashim was done. He said he needed space to figure out his life and future plans.
Rahama cried! For days she refused to eat or drink anything. She bashed herself for not expecting the worst with Hashim. “If I had tried just a little bit to gain the power of letting go, I would be fine by now”….she spoke quietly to herself as she settled into the bathtub and cut her wrist with a sharp blade.
She left a note on the bathroom floor that read, “What is life without love? Love from someone who yearns to spend time with you. The early morning messages and the random calls to check how you are. Someone who says “I love you” and means it. My better half. Someone who is mine; to whom I belong to. What is the essence of being in love when I have to keep thinking of the day I’d need the power to let go?
This is not how I want to love or be loved. If I don’t die from this blood of mine that I shed, then I should not be killed by the love that I choose to give. I don’t want to ever have the power of letting go. I don’t want to have to let go. The only thing I want to let go of is the hurt that love has built in my fragile heart.”
My eyes watered from where I sat. If I don’t die, I will master the power of letting go. Looking at my body on the hospital bed, with a 50/50 chance of survival hurts more than the pain of heartbreak. The men who have turned me into a suicidal wreck are living their lives happily, while mine hangs on the line between life and death.
These men have been able to move on from me like they never knew me. Yet, I have managed to stick on to the memories we built together and put my life on a constant repeat of self-inflicted pain. Now I know that if I don’t die, I must gain the power of letting go.
I am Rahama, and if I don’t die, I must have the power of letting go.
Beautiful write-up! 👏
Your blog is a testament to your dedication to your craft. Your commitment to excellence is evident in every aspect of your writing. Thank you for being such a positive influence in the online community.
thank you very much.
This is more than amazinggggg