29/08/2024
When Love Turns to Disgust:
A story of Self-worth and Letting Go
By. Omar Zongo
The day I caught them, I was hurt, but I didn't panic. With a smile on my face, I opened the door, entered, and then closed it. I took sorrowful steps toward the single couch that was inside.
My eyes saw my fellow man panicking in fear. I calmed him down and told him not to be afraid because he had stolen from a civilized fool.
Since he still didn’t believe me, I asked him what he wanted—whether I should step outside to give him space to dress, or if he would just dress with me right there.
I asked him in a friendly manner, but he hurriedly dressed clumsily, and I understood.
My eyes turned to look at my woman. I don’t know why, but instead of being angry with her, I felt pity. To this day, I don’t know why I pitied her.
"Am I allowed to leave?" asked the sly one who had tasted my fruit in my own bed. I turned to look at him and replied, "If there's anything you haven't finished, shall I give you space, boss?"
I asked him politely, but he responded nervously, "No, no..." He left, leaving his socks and boxers on the floor. I understood.
"Dear," I called out softly, with great humility. I think my heart had had enough of this woman’s 'take twos.'
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