What’s Love Anyway

There was a time, wasn’t there?
A time when love felt like everything.
When we didn’t need to ask permission for it to stay.
It just showed up, uninvited, and we welcomed it like an old friend.

We thought it would stay forever, didn’t we?
We thought we’d always walk side by side,
Two hearts beating in unison,
Believing that nothing could tear us apart.

But somewhere, somewhere in the silence,
Love changed.
It changed, almost without notice.
One day, we were laughing, and the next, silence.

It’s strange, how love can be so gentle and so harsh,
All at once.
How it can bloom and fade,
In a breath, in a glance.

The hand that once held yours, so tenderly,
Now feels distant, cold.
And the words that once lifted you,
Now fall heavy, like stones.

It’s not always the big gestures that tear us apart.
Sometimes, it’s the things left unsaid,
The silence in between.
The small fractures that no one sees,
Until they break wide open.

And you stand there, staring at the pieces,
Wondering when it all fell apart.
Wondering when you lost yourself,
And when love became a stranger.

But here’s the truth I’ve come to know,
Love doesn’t disappear.
It doesn’t vanish like smoke.
It leaves a mark.

It leaves a scar,
Not one that makes you weaker,
But one that makes you stronger.
Because, after all, we survived it.

We carry love with us,
Even when it’s gone.
We carry the warmth,
The joy, the sorrow.

Love may not last forever,
But it teaches us more than we ever thought we could learn.
And when the pieces finally settle,
We realize we’re still here, still standing.

So, yeah, love hurts.
It breaks you down.
But it also builds you up.
And that’s something we can carry with us, always.

But then, we pause,
And we wonder,
What is love, really?
Is it the promises we make and break?
A fire that flickers, then fades?
Or is it just the quiet moments,
When we finally learn to love ourselves,
Without needing anyone else to show us how?

@okelododdychitchats

How Busy Can Someone Be?

The clock swallows minutes whole,
Gulping down greetings, gnawing on goodbyes.
Excuses stack like bricks against a door,
While silence hums between us,
thick as stone,
thin as breath.

A phone vibrates, a message waits,
Unanswered.
I see you read it.
A thousand reasons grow in that space,
But not one blooms into a simple,
“I’m thinking of you.”

How important must a life be
To lose the weight of one small word?
How far must a soul stroll
To forget the way home is paved
with pause,
and presence,
and tender replies?

What do we build with our busyness?
A monument of meetings,
A kingdom of calendars.
We count every second,
but never the heartbeats missed
between deadlines.

We are architects of absence.
Masters of the unsaid.
Too proud, perhaps,
to admit that we let love sit idle
while we sharpened schedules into swords
and called it survival.

Wahenga na wahenguzi said,
Akufukuzaye hakuambii toka.
The one chasing you never says leave.

What are you still waiting for?
What more do you need to realize you’re not wanted?
Respect yourself!…

Somewhere, there is a hand
reaching for yours,
A voice waiting at the edge
of a message unsent.
Kindness grows fragile
when left in the dark,
but it never dies.

So, how busy can someone be?
Busy enough to forget,
but not enough
to stop remembering.

@okelododdychitchats

A Letter to You, Men

Dear man,
I write to you in the quiet of dawn,
When the world stirs with whispers of promise,
And shadows yield to the birth of light.
This is a letter, not a sermon, not a scolding,
But a soft wind stirring your soul,
A call from one heart to another,
A pause to remember who you are
And who you could be.

Wake up,
Wake up from the numbing slumber of conformity,
From the comfortable tomb of inertia.
Shake off the chains of apathy
That bind your dreams to the ground.
The world is waiting,
Rise with the sun, let its warmth fill your chest,
And carve your place into the marrow of this earth.

Build your own self,
A man not sculpted from the molds of expectation,
But one built with integrity’s fierce hands.
Lay your foundation with truth,
Brick by brick of courage and humility,
Mortared with the lessons of failure.
Let self-love be your cornerstone,
For how can you lead others
If your own heart is a wilderness of doubt?

Build your family
Make it a refuge where love spills like morning light,
Where tears are cups of truth,
And laughter rings like unbroken bells.
Be the architect of sanctuary,
Not with walls of pride,
But with open doors of kindness.
Do not let regret cloud your vision,
Chart the way with faith and tenderness.
Homes are not houses,
They are hearts tied together by love’s hands.

Play your roles with love
Father, son, brother, partner…
Wear these names like a crown of stars.
Not with dominance,
But with the strength of gentle hands,
With the quiet force of a shoulder that bears,
A heart that listens.
Vulnerability is not a weakness,
It is the marrow of connection,
The place where love lives and breathes.

Oh, dear man,
Don’t be a ghost of a father,
A name whispered in longing,
A shadow in a child’s dreams.
Children need roots to hold them firm,
And wings to lift them high.
Be the guidance in their storms,
The steady light on a darkened shore.
In your arms, they learn to trust,
To dream, to become.
Be their hero, not perfect,
But present.

Do not lose yourself to anger,
That wildfire that devours forests of peace.
Let it pass through like the storm it is,
Rage, then rest, then rise again,
But never let it take your soul.
Meet it with understanding,
For the world is a fragile thing,
And love is always the better sword.

Don’t chase applause,
For it is the fleeting chorus of hollowed hands.
Seek truth instead,
Sing your own song,
Unapologetically yours.
There is no peace in pretense,
There is only weariness.
Live authentically,
Raw, flawed, radiant.

Choose your battles,
Do not draw your sword for every slight.
Wisdom is knowing when to fight
And when to let silence be your answer.
Restraint is not weakness,
It is the quiet power of kings.

Give, dear man,
Give with open hands,
But know when to rest.
Life is not a scorecard,
It is a dance of give and take,
A river that drys and flows.
In generosity, there is beauty,
But let balance be your guide,
For even oceans need shores.

And if love is not returned,
Do not wither, do not fall.
Some chapters are meant for growth,
Not permanence.
Let them go with grace,
And walk unburdened by what was.
Detachment is a kind of freedom,
A breath of peace when the weight is too much.

Do not linger where the air is poison.
When toxicity suffocates,
Leave with your spirit intact.
Boundaries are not walls,
They are gardens,
Places where your soul can bloom.
Seek light, seek life.
Don’t stay where your laughter dies.

Life, dear man,
Is a song waiting to be sung,
Art waiting for your hands.
Be the artist of your existence,
The poet of your days.
You are more than breath and bone,
You are a force, a dream, a maker of worlds.

Wake up.
Step into your becoming.
This life is yours,
A Limitless and glorious scene.
Write your truth,
Shape your legacy with love,
And dance boldly into tomorrow.

This, dear man,
Is your story.

@okelododdychitchats