The Assassin

Rain falls like God's own poetry; each drop is a single letter in a song that takes aeons to sing. It has always been music, always called to me in techniques I cannot explain. When the pitter-patter of the drops tumbles from grey skies the melody brings serenity no matter the chaos in my life. Blessed rain. Every single drop was a reminder of the blossoming love I shared with my beloved, so life-giving. With every rhythm I couldn’t help but recall vividly the lyrics he sang to me every evening as we started off our journey as a couple, “If you were my girl, I’d take you around the world, take you places where you’ve never ever been before, so give me your hand, I’m giving you my word, I promise, I will be loving you forever and ever”. I was never afraid of the rains because, in his arms, I was home. As the cloud would gather, and the earth anticipates the free flow of life, so did my soul stir to make him feel more alive than any man-made high ever could. I fell in love with rain because every single droplet brought a memory that was deeply ingrained in our souls.

Tonight, I lay beside him, anticipating our anniversary. Unlike other years, this time we opted to spend it at a couple's retreat. We had endured so much, but felt like the force of gravity was finally catching up with us. The lapse of time and space was hypothetically and metaphorically steering our romantic wheels. He had fallen in love with my serene and calm nature, while I enjoyed how outspoken he was. Like any other couple, we were cautious enough never to lose our steamy and wild romance. We set a rendezvous with couples who had spent years together, just to listen to their experiences and learn. Tonight, I reflected on the single experience that resulted in this retreat. Montez and I had decided upon meeting Chacha and Cheche who had been married for 30 years. On our way home, I kept thinking how the couple was in sync, how Chacha spontaneously gazed at Cheche every time she made a remark, his random touch and how romantic they looked. With every gaze, they sparked a desire that flamed through their eyes. “Did you notice how amazing that couple was?”, Montez interrupted my trail of thought. “Yeah”, I replied though not with my usual beaming smile. “Yeah, what do you mean by just yeah?”, he disenchanted. “I’m a little worked out honey, can we talk about this later?”, I said ambivalently. “Later? It is always later for you.” Montez muttered sarcastically. Through the highway, nobody said a word. It was a certain moment we were persuaded to listen to the eloquence of silence. We finally got home, and all I needed was the grand space of our room inviting my lungs to expand, to absorb the floral aromas and enter my zone. Montez however, would not let me off the hook, he continued with his nit-picks and contempt. I blamed him for being immature and unreasonable; I tried covering my ears with the soft pillows, but he wouldn’t get the message. I had to spend the night in the guest room. This was the naturalistic event of an awaiting disaster. Slowly our souls drifted, he was north, and I was south. The glowing medallion in the sky radiated its rays through the creamy brown curtain, creating the golden glow in the daylight. I had never seen a room with so much furniture and so many hues. It was rustic dark, sprinkled profusely with vibrant cushions and a table in easy reach of each seat. The walls told a story of their own with an approximate equivalent number of paintings and photographs. DeMarco and Ayida, seated next to us, had been married for three years. Their story was unique just like any other love tale we gravitate to. They had attended the couple retreat when they realized that their foundational love story had changed. Not that, we needed to salvage our relationships, but just like we constantly enjoy healthy diets, so did our institutions crave for healthy feeds.

Dawit and Bimini had been married for fifty-six years. They regularly held separate dialogues with young, middle-aged and older couples. Usually, the beach would have been ideal, but during rainy seasons, they opted to host couples in their serene home along the Afro- Arabian Rift Valley. “How do you still look into her eyes and still appreciate the qualities you fell in love with?” DeMarco enthusiastically asked. “Bimini is a tranquil soul, that I love so much”, Dawit began. “Our story, however, isn’t different from yours. I listened to your stories and I couldn’t help but invite you here. The most common element in your side of stories was however one”. “One?!” I questioned. “Yes! One, self-justification. You believe you are good enough, then justify your assumption. For instance, Montez, you complain your fiancée is suffering from avoidance and quiet syndrome. You believe you are a wonderful outspoken fiancé and the distance you are experiencing over time is because she doesn’t want to engage. You justify your premises by claiming that, she always says, she is tired. She believes she is a better person because she treats you well, is loyal to you and is fully committed to ensuring the institution works. She however believes that you're immature push her too much and your sarcastic remarks leave her feeling shameful. When one is criticized for who they are, (rather than what they did), a deep sense of shame and helplessness is evoked. They wish to escape and hide, unfortunately, no one can hide from humiliation and desolation. One psychologist alluded that shame doesn’t seek to solve the problem, rather, its fundamental goals are; score, insult and wound. Shaming leads to fierce and renewed energies for self-justification. Montez, in rewriting the eventful night that left you empty, if your fiancée here, took into deep consideration of your interest and thrill of discussing the few details witnessed during Chacha and Cheche date, the night would have been different. If you sympathized with her and tried to understand what resonated with her fatigue, the night would have been different. Contempt is a fierce predictor of divorce and separation, it is a fruit of self-justification, which is a known love assassin. Bimini is a little laid off, and when we married, we took up tasks we felt comfortable with. The bed was all rosy until particular aspects began to repetitively happen. Every time there was confrontation to be made, either for faulty devices or products, she was always passive and I had to do the dirty work. I began feeling this was unfair and the duty beam was disequilibrium. I wanted to throw in the towel. When I confronted her she…” Bimini interrupted him and took over the conversation. The entire time she sat quietly, observing and listening keenly as her husband oozed wisdom. “I told him that was always me, and he knew it before we got married. We noted that anger was entrenching our commitment. Like artist models, a masterpiece on an empty canvas so did we seek to craft our marriage story. As you know, when anger burns it leaves the ashes of resentment and contempt. I listened to my husband eventually and audited myself. I finally took up assertiveness classes and learnt how to stand up for myself in different ways. We somehow maneuvered and worked around that, which led to a healthier and happier relationship. It is difficult for one to change if one is not aware of what is wrong. A relationship will eventually wither if the core participants are not aware of this assassin. Everyone craves to be understood, we hear but don’t listen. We uphold self-justification in all levels of our lives; we allow ego as part of the pie and before we realize it; the forces are creating the greatest rift. Like DeMarco and Agida, the love story we loved to share changes. The story alienates the enthusiasm and positivity around it. It almost feels like a mistake and shifts attention to blaming the other person. As we end today’s session, you have realized that self-justification has been tearing you down. You have seen how it shows up and learnt how to curb it. Remember, wisdom comes through lapse of time only to non-drifters and positive thinkers. Focus on improving yourself slowly, learn to admit mistakes and apologize. Learn to empathize and sympathize with one another. Become more aware, for only then, you will be more alive. Desire to deeply understand, learn and become better. Duly cultivate the culture of desired habits for; some form of definite desire begins all habits”. She vivaciously concluded. This was indeed the beginning of a lifelong love letter for our generation, I thought to myself as I exchanged a hypnotic yet contemplative gaze with my beloved. “We are not perfect, we learn from our mistakes, but we are all willing to be better, you will become mine and I will become yours, I choose you always.” he charmingly uttered.