THE OTHER SIDE OF MY HUSBAND…

Just because its brown doesn’t mean it taste like chocolate. Love could be professed by anyone just like the same way witches carry the bible hiding their true self and nature. 
This is my story…

I hated my life for the wrong choice that I made. I was blinded by the beauty of the rose flower and didn’t notice the thorns. Hell became heaven and heaven became a mirage. For the life I was living was the hell the ‘Holy Book’ talked about and my sweet adoring husband was the devil. Could there be love in darkness… laughing wryly.

Oh my God! is this blood from my eyes am I really crying blood. Wait, why am I even surprised. Tears no longer run down my cheeks exiting from my eyes. I have cried out every water from my body safe the blood flowing in my veins. Its surprising am still alive.

Its wasn’t always like this you know. All the lovely stories I used to hear about marriage and the rainbow colours around it I onced experienced.

The kind of love philosophers couldn’t define and words couldn’t express was what my husband showered me with. From our bedroom to every other part of the house I couldn’t feel the tiles; rose petals were the tiles I walked on. I became the first human goddess that ever lived. At some point it was like I was the husband of the house and my husband was the wife. My husband was doing everything in the house the word ‘chores’ could describe. Believe me it was a sight to behold. If there’s any cook in the world that’s better than my husband, it’s my husband himself.

We had amazing trips together and I could remember asking God not to send His Son to return to earth and take us to heaven because I already had my heaven on earth (talk about being selfish. what about others that are praying earnestly for His return…Oh if only you know with how much energy I pray in reverse for Christ to come and take me away. Am tired of this hell I call a life) or so I thought. Our honeymoon could only be described by a prophet who prophesize in tongues because English and other human languages would fail to complement how it felt.

Suddenly all this ended when one day I received an unexpected slap from my husband that sounded like ‘Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus’. What had happened that would make my husband turn my cheek to ‘Coke Music Studio’? … to be continued

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