My body is not in shape; my heart is not pumping blood anymore. I am overcast by the vault of darkness. It’s been years, I have tried to break the vault a few times, with no success.
When I try, I start to cry. I am not crying tears; I am crying blood. I feel like my spirit is divorcing the flesh.

When I sleep, I always see the cage that I am locked in. No, not me, but my heart. My heart is not the same anymore, someone stole it. The pain that I feel is more than flesh and blood can bear.

My name is Promise, I am a widow, but my husband is not dead yet. I’m sure you are wondering how am I a widow? Well I am a widow of my heart. I still remember the day I started digging the grave for my heart.

It was five years ago. It was a beautiful morning. The birds were singing the summer songs. I was in Portland, I met Austin. He was tall, dark in
colour, his body was masculine and he had narrow eyes. I can say he was a hunk, well men ain’t supposed to be beautiful, but he was a beautiful man.

He asked me out, well I agreed. It was love at first sight. We started dating, he had a good charisma. I gave myself time to study him, even his body.

The burn scar on his face,it was not that visible. His white teeth, when he laughed, it was like he was showing off his milky teeth. He was a Zulu man with some power, when he spoke English he had an American accent. I wanted to spend the rest of my days with him, he was a god to me.

Our first kiss was one of the most pleasant moments in my life. Even today, nothing ever feels like that. When he placed his lips on mine, the waves that I felt in my stomach. My heart was beating fast, his hands running through every inch of my body.

Suddenly three months later, he disappeared with no trace. He left no
message, he never called. What’s painful is that he didn’t only live, but he left with a piece of me. He stole my heart, my happiness.

A year later I got married to Innocent Michaels. I am married, but my heart is somewhere else. I am always longing for Austin’s hands. When Innocent touches me, I feel like he is pinching me. The kisses he gives me, are cold. It’s really hard for me to see how he is trying to be the best husband, not knowing that my heart is long gone.

I am a stranger in my own home, my mind is always roaming around. I blame him for living. How am I supposed to live without the one I love? My heart is bleeding from the inside.


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