I'm selfish.

Afew days ago, I did something I've been scared I would do. I tried to commit suicide. By slitting my wrists hoping that the pain would be below my pain limit. It wasn't. At that moment, I experienced so much pain that I couldn't even cry. Eventually, I sought help and I'm okay now. Atleast I'm okay physically though mentally I'm in a state of despair. I'm at that point where no, I don't want to die and now looking back at that day I tried to die, I feel stupid and tired of inflicting pain on myself.

I don't remember when I got to the place where I felt that suicide was the only way out. I remember years ago when my mother made me talk to a counsellor and one of her first questions was whether I'd ever had suicidal thoughts. As I answered no, I was disgusted and I remember thinking that I would never allow myself to be driven to that point where I felt the need to end my life. Yet here I was years later, at that point where I felt that nothing was working out. I haven't been happy for a while now. Hard as it is to believe, my life is one big freaky mess. And I made it that messy.

Over the last few years, I have run away from alot of things and places. I run in search of happiness, or maybe it's in search of myself. The yearning of my soul to find out who I am. What drives me. What I really want to do. Who I really want to be.
I have ran away from people who made me cry. From places where I felt lost. From bad choices and my mistakes. From challenges I felt I could not get over. From tragedies.
In all this time I've been running, not once have I felt the need to end my life. And here I was, lying in a hospital bed, nurses checking in on me every few seconds incase I tried to rip myself apart again.

In this strange town where no one knew I'd been admitted to a hospital, I cried as I listened to the nurses talking about me in hushed tones outside my room. I cried when they asked me if there was someone they could call for me and I said no. I cried when I looked out of my window and out at the ocean, it's beauty overwhelming me. I cried when I watched the sunset and wondered why my sun had refused to set. I cried when I looked at my phone and saw a message from my potential boyfriend asking me if I'm okay and I felt ashamed of what I had done to myself. I cried when he called me and I couldn't pick up because I didn't want to explain what had happened to him.

Here I was, alone and not talking to the one person who was making an effort. I thought of calling my mum and telling her what had happened but then I thought I shouldn't because I haven't because talked to her in months. And I didn't want her using that incidence to berate me. In this town I love so much, I was alone and it was killing me. I thought of all the people I've met here and yet I was very alone.

Now looking back at the moment I tried to die, I fear that I'll do it again. That one of these days I'll want to die and I'll kill myself. And then I'll be that loser who killed herself. That loser who was selfish enough to opt out instead of toughing it out like everyone else does. That loser who gave up. That loser who quit. That's not the person I want people to remember me as. I don't know how I would want to be remembered but I know I don't want to be remembered as a loser.

Days later after I'd been discharged, I told him I'd been in hospital with a bad case of malaria. He said nothing. A day later he asked me what had happened. I told him. He said nothing. And I remember thinking of how pathetic he thought I am. How now I'd driven him away and how he would never talk to me again after that. I even thought it better if he didn't want to because I was a pathetic piece of shit that no one would want to be associated with. And then he called me. He talked like nothing had changed and then he told me in a steady voice that he had beef with me and I told him I like chicken more and we laughed but deep down I was ashamed and scared that he would condemn me. Instead he asked me when I wanted to talk about it and I told him when.

So he calls me and we go through the motions, we laugh, we tease each other as we always do then I tell him we can talk about the 'beef'. He didn't condemn me. He didn't judge. Instead he told me that suicide was not the answer. He told me that yes I'd gone through shit but no, I wasn't supposed to end my life. He told me that I mattered. That I was loved. That there was someone who would be hurt by my decisions. That I should start writing again and keep myself busy instead of bumming. That no matter what happened, suicide was just not the answer. And I cried because I heard the pain in his voice. I cried when I heard his voice cracking up.

And sometimes I want to believe that I matter and I'm loved. Actually, I know I matter and I'm loved but I overlook that. I'm selfish like that. I hate myself for being selfish because I know there are people who get hurt because of my selfishness.
I think of my mother who hasn't heard from me because I feel like she doesn't love me enough.
I think of my extended family who try to talk.to me but I don't pick their calls or text them back.
I think of my friends who try to talk to me but I push them away because I don't want to get hurt.
I think of this man I'm falling in love with yet I haven't met him in person yet but who makes me feel loved more than the people I am with everyday. I think of him now and know that I want to meet him, know him better and see where this thing we have goes. I think of him and I grey myself for being so selfish as to want to kill myself.

I know one thing now as I write this piece. I don't want to die. I don't want to be a loser. I don't want to quit.

I want to live. Whether I'm happy or not. Whether I matter or not. Whether I'm loved or not. I choose life and hope that I won't have another suicidal moment. For my sake and his. I choose to live.

Quote: I'd rather be causing the chaos than laying at the sharp edge of life.

Home | Jasmine Thompson.

Xoxo.

Have You Cum Yet? "No".

Am I the only person who writes names of people they've had sex with when they have nothing to do?
It's weird? Ok. But I find it totally Ok to do so and boy don't I have myself a good laugh at some of them!
Everytime Im doing the list, I classify the men into Damn Good, Not so Bad and Bad.
Some sex is just yuck and some is toe curling good...
Some men have learnt the skill of pleasing a woman pretty to the core while some just have no idea what to do.
Some of the names on my list have left me feeling eeeewwwwwww, wondering what I was thinking, how horny was I?, I wasn't thinking ,while some on the other hand have left me texting some people at odd hours when my tiny fingers will just not do it for me that night... I kid you not, but the list is a winner...

What is good sex? you will all ask me. Well, Im no sex expert but just like I know how I like to have my eggs cooked, not beaten and well cooked, so I know what good sex entails.
I can tell how good a man is in bed from the way he touches me. If a man is sensual, slow and attentive and knows where to lick, where to suck and where to blow, then I know he would be worth going all the way with because my friend, it will be a ride to heaven and back afew times. You'll call God but He just can't interfere with that glorious moment in your life, your mother who you wouldn't want to know you engaged in sex and his name if he is that good, you'll scream or you will say something as weird as " You're killing me, you're killing me, now Im dead". Or something as equally hilarious as that...
By the way that 'you're killing me' vibe is a true story... I once forcefully eavesdropped on some college mates of mine because what do you call the situation where ni lazima mjue na'cum ( its a must you know Im cuming)?

Talking of cuming, I have had those moments where we get to bed, he kisses me for two seconds, overlooks my breasts, and just goes straight for the "cookie" with no courtesy whatsoever. Even a decent kiss but then, Im always too horny to even notice that he didn't kiss me but just smeared saliva all over my face.
Its when we are done that It finally hits me, what the heck was that? Lawd Jesus!!!
I didn't even thrust my hips to meet u halfway and you're done? Come on!
There's this incident where I had been crushing on a guy for months on end and then we started talking, hanging out, flirting,  and finally onto sex. Id never felt so cheated and mad at anyone as I felt with this one.
I mean, he had the looks of a guy id want to have babies with, cute chubby babies. The adorable kind everyone wants to hold and take pictures with. The irresistible ones that have got men on instagram posting pictures of them and hashtagging #dearfuturewife . You get my drift? Good.
He has to be the sloppiest dude I've ever kissed. A disappointment. A total let down and he dropped to the "Never Again Shall I" list.

I love someone who pays attention to my lips, tongue and mouth while kissing me. I also love it when a guy holds my head while kissing me and pressing his body to mine while pinning me against a wall. Someone who will pay attention to my body language while he is touching me, will get the drift of where I want to be touched when i lead his hand there, will take his time kissing my neck, nipping at my ears, grazing my nipples with his beard, sucking,pinching and biting my nipples, touching my hands, tracing his fingers along my curves and above my mounds, looking into my eyes just before he puts his finger inside me....

This guy i was crushing on did none of that. Instead I had saliva all over my face and a doubt whether he had a penis or had he been using his baby finger on me and pretended it was a dick? I had not felt it and yet he lay on top of me, grunting and groaning, asking me if I had cum while swearing his small dick that that had been his best sex ever!

Tell me the inner Nyeri woman has never had the urge to make a debut and just chop his manhood off out of frustration and I will bet you all my life's earnings that you're lying.
Same if you tell me you have never thought of just telling him No and that you had no idea that you'd just had sex with him.

Because we have all been there. Well not all of us but you get me. 
That guy I've just talked about, he's not alone. They are many. They know they are not endowed but usually the smallest dicks think they are the best and some are, because they've known to compensate with their mouths and fingers.
Some are endowed but suffer from ignorance. They think sex is all about the dick in the pussy. Most, just for their satisfaction. If they've cum, its all good. You sort yourself out and hope the second round is better. These are also the ones who will want to go at it all night.

To me, sex is all about attention. To his needs and mine and vice versa. Its mutually benefiting and pleasurable. Its thoughtful, unrushed (that even a word)?, spontaneous, dangerous, exciting, and the moment you cum, either together or girl first boy second, should be glorious, you should get to heaven and hear the angels sing, your legs should shake or your toes should curl, you will most likely call out your lovers name, hold them close or just curl on your own, you'll speak in tongues, you'll scratch his back and he won't even notice it until he starts to cool down and feels the sting of sweat on his back (my favourite), he will hold your ass and press himself so deep in you the sperm doesn't have to run because he delivers them himself to the ovaries....
He knows when to get from missionary to doggy to spooning to standing to all the possible styles we can have sex in.
Most importantly he will know I do not looove doggy and that me riding him rocks and i don't mind spooning in the morning.

To me sex is mind blowing good.

The guy should know that he has to.reciprocate the good head I give him with something better like going down on me too and sucking the daylight out of me. Dear future husband. Ps: I give very good head.

But I have not yet called out a guys name while cuming and trust me there have been damn good ones on the list.

Im yet to have my legs shake because I've had an orgasm nor have my toes ever curled.

When he looks at me, I want to feel his eyes undressing me, caressing me and arousing me to heights unknown.
I want to get wet for him when he whispers naughty things in my ears while we are in public.
I want a man who will know how to make me cum with his tongue, fingers and dick.
I want a man who will know that Im close and make me wait then orgasm with me, or knows he's got it and goes down on me and makes me cum too. A man who will not have to ask me if I've cum or not because he knows I have or I haven't. Because the next time he asks,

"have you cum?" ,
I'll tell the truth.
Ladies, its ok to answer No if that's your truth. If he is the man you are in love with, tell him and teach him how to please you if you have the patience to do that. If you're like me with totally no patience at all, tell him the truth.and hope the next lady will be lucky if he takes the time to learn the art of satisfying a woman sexually.

Quote: It's not sex that gives the pleasure but the lover. -Marge Piercy-

Not Fair | Lilly Allen.

Xoxo.

#goodsex, #badsex , #sexisanart, #learntopleaseher #dearfutureboyfriend

Just Fuck Me.

Fuck me rough
Ill scream
Ill moan
You'll groan
We'll cum again and again
Not a care in the world
Just Fuck me like its the last time you'll do it.

Thought: when you have brains and big boobs, no one sees the brains, no matter how big they are.

Talking Body | Tove Lo.

Xoxo .

Liar....

Those things you told me,
All the truths,
All the lies,
All the promises of love
Of forever?
I believed them. Every single word.

Thought: Hearts aren't handcuffs and people aren't prisons.

Please Don't Say You Love Me | Gabrielle Aplin.

Xoxo.

Love Is...

I cry sometimes
So you can hold me,
Wipe away my tears,
Whisper sweet nothings to me,
Kiss away all my worries
And give me a reason to smile again.

Quote: Love is knowing when to just shut up, hug and kiss and wait for the tears to dry up.

Back To December | Taylor Swift

Xoxo.

A Mistake & Love....

All I am,
All I think,
All I feel,
All I say....
You.

You are the meaning in my words,
The joy in my laughter,
The reason behind my smile,
The beat of my heart,
The beauty of my life....

You are my troubles and tears,
The No in my head,
The Risk Id rather take,
The pain behind my tears,
The storm before the calm...

Yet you are here,
All flaws, no perfection,
I love you with a loyalty I never had,
You've captured my heart and body,
And through the pain and tears,
You stand with me,
I love you and you know,
All flaws, no perfection.

Quote: You are a perfectly beautiful mistake.

Isikuti Love | Mayonde.

Xoxo.

Five Years On...

I tried writing a letter to my little Angel in heaven last night but words left me and I just couldn't find the strength to write and remind her just how much she still means to me.
Last night around 11:48 I marked five years since she left me. Five years of questions unanswered. Five years of thinking that I didn't do enough to make her want to be mine. Five years of bitterness and anger at myself and others. Five years of what if she'd been born?

To my little Angel in heaven,
I don't know where to start. What to say. How to say it. I miss you. I don't have much to remember you with, just the memory of you in my womb, growing everyday, making me glow and that terrible heartburn I got. I even miss it now. How you kicked at night when I cried, maybe your way of telling me not to cry anymore. You didn't give me morning sickness, you were amazing like that.

A night like the last, you left and you have no idea how broken you left me. Or how lost I felt when realised you were gone. Id never hold you or breastfeed you or dress you in those tiny baby clothes or watch you grow.
Im broken and in pain today just like i was five years ago. Id never get to show you off or help you with your first period. I feel robbed... Of you, your love and the joy of having you in my life and watching you grow.

Im told Im strong. Im not. It's the only choice I've had since you've been gone. Coz I feel the void you left in my life every minute and it kills me. I breath baby, but Im dying inside, I laugh but Im crying, I smile but Im in pain. Im in a world where grieving too long is not allowed so you got to put up a front.

I don't write to you much Angel but that doesn't mean I've forgotten you. Sometimes silence is the only way I know how to cope.

I.smile when I think of you, it keeps me strong. I smile when I feel the pain of losing you, for in that pain is where our love grows. I smile at heaven where I hope you're warm and happy, and I hope you smile right back at me.

I love you Angel. Kisses.
Mummy.

Xoxo.

Cravings.... Not for food ;-)

I've really been down this month although Its surprisingly turned out to be quite a nice month compared to the others that came before it. I hope it ends on a still good basis.
I've come a long way since the days of senseless drinking spree, the thrill of getting into that oh handsome dudes bed and having bad sex, hopeless crushes, stupid relationships and alot of other silly stuff girls like me in campus do. And the days of just being ambitious while in bed at noon with no plans of getting out of it anytime in the next few hours. Did anyone have  those days or is it just me?
There are alot of things I've come to want and that Ill work my flat ass off for.

When I was 21 all I wanted was a good life. Working for it was somehow nowhere in the equation. Sad? I know!!! Stupid? Oh yes!!!
That's a period I look back at and face palm myself. What the f**k was I thinking? Thinking? That's one thing I didn't do alot back then. Sadly.

Flashforward to a few years later and here I am. Not living the good life but working this pretty little ass of mine off to get it. Ill share those things Im craving for in my life at this point.
Here we go:

1. A baby. Im not sure what ill feel when one day i get the news that Im pregnant. I've been pregnant before and lost the baby somewhere along the way which has made me scared that i might not conceive again or that if i do, i might lose the baby again and i wouldn't bear that again. Hell does not define the agony ive gone through because of that tragedy. Despite all that i have a deep craving to be a mum soon and i hope i become.

2. A vacation. A long luxurious and very lazy vocation makes it to this list. With the love of my life joining me. I want the vacation with all the following: lazy good sex with the man of my life, a kid, shopping, ocean, adventure, endless

Lost...

She wanders amongst strangers
Alone, totally alone
So small she only sees shoes
Those shoes that almost crush her
She's lost
She's away from home
From the warmth of her mama
From the comfort of home
She wonders why her
Looking at a mother and child she cries
Her heart torn
Her stomach empty
Her body weak
She wants her mama
Scared of the world,
She cries out loud
'Find me mama.... Please'
Tears in her eyes
Crying from her heart
Scared to death
She wanders amongst strangers
Longing for home.... For mama
Longing for love
She's lost Ma,
Please find her.

Quote: Not all who wander are lost.

Jesus Take The Wheel | Carrie Underwood.

Xoxo.

Rest In Peace Daughter...

This might be a very long walk through memory lane....so take a seat, grab ur reading companions and read along.....

He was handsome. Or rather, he is handsome. I think it's the first one but Im not sure. And Im a sucker for handsome men. Back then I was a sucker for handsome boys because a man stands for himself and is responsible not a coward. Boys are cowards. This one was a boy.
I saw and I liked and one night during one of the many drunken nights I came to have, I confessed and we had the first of many nights together speaking with our bodies and hands while our mouths performed other more deserving tasks.
In the heat of the moment (who on earth came up with this phrase? Lol) we did not use protection. I went back to my place in the morning and later on he brought me emergency contraceptives which I took. It was stupid I know. We used protection from then on until one night when the shenanigans of the first night were repeated.
I think I wanted a baby or maybe I didn't. I don't know why I pushed taking the pill to the next day. And the next day passed and it completely escaped my mind until afew days later when I remembered that night. I had not seen him since then and we'd argued over something silly so he'd been sulking. It was too late to take the pill. I was pregnant I knew and I loved the idea although I was scared.

We were not dating. We had sex frequently, he slept over, we'd hang out together with his friends, we did everything people did except date. And I was pregnant with no idea how to tell him.

I told my bestfriend and she said to chuck it. My bff said he'd support me whatever road I chose to walk, and most of my friends said that too.

Telling my mother was out of the question.

I completely embraced my pregnancy and enjoyed most of it. A month and afew days into the pregnancy I told the boy. He said we'd get married and raise the baby together. I believed him. That night we made love.... Slowly and he played with my tummy happily saying he was playing with his baby. That was my happiest memory of us.

A week later he asked me how much it was to abort. I didn't answer him. I moved away. I would raise the baby alone.

I took time informing my close friends. People talked because I was changing, my skin was softer and glowing, my breasts were fuller and Id begun adding some meat on my bones.

I spent time looking for unique baby names, I shortlisted some I liked and after a while I stuck with one. A girls name. I knew it was gonna be a girl with his lips and eyes and too lightskinned because we both were, him more than me, his toenails because mine are just a disaster, my body so she could eat all she wanted without worrying about her weight, my fingernails coz they are oh so beautiful, our combined intelligence, my black hair, our love. I dreamt of us as a family. I loved the idea. I was wrong to dream.

He was sleeping with a girl I'd considered my friend. One of my closest friends. They had not bothered to tell me. Not a word it so I found out through the grapevine that was so effective.

Then that night in April came and I was determined to talk to my mother. I was pregnant and still in university. The father of the baby I was carrying had moved on, so I was on the road to being a single mother. I had no source of income and I was probably a huge disappointment to her. I didn't care about what she would say or do.
Id tell her because it was the right and polite thing to do. Whether she accepted the baby or not Id still have to figure out how to raise my daughter. I figured out I owed her that much. I'd know what to do, we'd be ok.

We never were ok because that night I lost her. The pains started in my room and got worse through the night. At the hospital I started bleeding as the nurses watched and did nothing. A friend of a friend who was in medical school at said hospital helped me but eventually I lost her.

In the midst of all the pain, the crying, vomiting, cursing, calling out to my mother, I gave birth. I gave birth to a living soul, premature but breathing and with a beating heart. I felt her heart beat against the walls of my birth canal ( polite word for vagina). I felt a connection. One so strong I cried and a bond was formed. A bond that was stronger than the one I'd had with her before she'd been born. She was seven months. Two months premature. Then one nurse snatched her, held out the pink and almost lifeless thing that was supposed to be my baby and told me to take one last look at her... The form resembled an infant in all its glory. She did not cry. I don't know if premature babies cry. My girl. My baby. The nurse announced that it was a girl but there was nothing they could have done they said.

I don't know how long my baby breathed after that but that was the first and last I saw of her. That's the only memory I have of her. Pink, slippery and an almost baby.
That night when I fell asleep I dreamt I was holding her in my arms and she was suckling my breasts. I woke up with a start. I lay on the hospital bed and wished I'd die and be with my little girl. Many nights I longed for death.

I didn't cry. I didn't do much. Friends made sure I ate and took my medication with water and not alcohol. I built a wall between me and that pain and that reality.
I learnt to hide that pain behind a smile, behind the illusion of being strong while I was all broken on the inside. I was heartbroken. I was lost and I didn't have anyone to teach me how to grieve, or how to live with the loss of a child.

It was during this time that I knew my friends for the people they were in my life. The true ones and the fake ones. There were times when I wanted to breakdown but there was always someone strong for me so I taught myself how to be strong for myself too. These are the people who took me through that period by praying with me, spending time with me, holding me, loving me, begging me to see life beyond the pain, worrying when I was too quiet.

I remember the nights I lay awake unable to sleep because I just couldn't stand the dreams of her. The thoughts of her. The Memory of her little fingers and little legs and head all pink.

I have not moved on. Its been 4years, 11 months and 10days since that Saturday night in April.... Almost five years.

Someone asked me why I just couldn't move on from the pain that losing my baby brought me. I didn't answer because they would not understand the pain of losing a baby coz she's never lost one. If she had she would have known I had no choice of forgetting because that was not a story, I couldn't move on because this was a scar that would be with me for years to come and there is no way I just can't shut it out because it ain't a dream. It was my reality. It is my reality.

I turned 26 this year and I have baby fever. I never thought I would have it but I do and Im scared. Im scared that maybe It will happen again. I wouldn't bear it a second time. Im scared because I know there is a possibility that I might not conceive again. And Im scared because I might become a mother and replace this baby I lost. I don't want to replace her. I will tell my children about their sister who was born prematurely but the doctors refused to step in and help. I believe if they had wanted her to live, she would have lived to be an exceptionally beautiful, intelligent and funniest girl alive. She would have gone places that girl. Instead she's somewhere I know not and she probably hates being alone in the dark just like me.

Everyone told me to be strong and that everything happens for a reason. Im yet to get the reason why she had to go. I certainly would love to know why she was denied life. I'l probably never get an answer but It's a question I'll always ask.

I look back to that period and I know that I don't want to be there again. Im at the point where I have told God that I need a child but if He is to give me one, she will have to live or when He takes him or her , He can take me too so that I can go be with my baby. Im sure He understands me perfectly now and Im just hoping He will do whichever He deems fit for me.

I love her everyday that passes. I wonder what we would be doing or how I would have adapted to being a mother. But God took her and as much as I have not even once forgotten her, I have learnt to appreciate the cards God deals me. Its part of life much as the pain has become part of me. I have learnt to take it a day at a time.

Losing this baby changed my life. A part of me died with her and I know that no matter what happens, I will walk through it with God holding my hand. I bet He knows not to deal me that card again. I hope He doesn't.

Quote: you're gone little one, away from the world and me and I might not live in your world but you are alive in mine. Ill never forget u. Ur loved AJ.

Xoxo .

Ps: It's April, the month I lost AJ and it's like something clicks in me everytime It gets to this month. I can't help how the memories and emotions flood back after so many months of trying to deal with them without really confronting them.
It's hard having to grieve after all these years, living life knowing that she might have been the first and only child I would conceive but I pray that God will give me a child when He deems it fit to do so. I only hope that He will let me enjoy the joy of pregnancy and also the joy of motherhood. This is the month when Im reminded to be grateful for all that I have and to know that God gives and He takes and that we make the plans and He executes them. I always pray that April passes by faster so that I can atleast smile without feeling the heartache that engulfs me or laughing when I know all I want is to cry. April knows that I always ask it to bring me a little joy to compensate for the sadness and pain it brings and Im sure this year it won't fail me.

We all have a story. This is mine. Im glad I can atleast allow myself to write it without crying and without wanting to murder someone. It's a step forward. I will heal one day but I know that even then This little angel of mine will have my heart and my love.