Hello you. I trust u had a beautiful productive Monday. Me, myself I’m still struggling with this Monday thing, 8-4 and stuff. Waking up in the morning is a problem and if you have any tips pleas email a girl (firstname.lastname@example.org). The best thing about Mahikeng though is that there’s no traffic *does the twalatsa* so I’m almost never late.
Anyway I made self a promise that I’m gonna blog frequently and even though I’m tired and shiit this is something I really really wann share. I came across this piece 2 years back, midnight on twitter as I was taking a break from studying. Just a link on my TL that I opened and fell in love. I wish I had fav’d the tweet so I could share the link or at least acknowledge the writer. Alas I was pleasantly surprised when I realized that the writer is male. Big UPS to the men who love, honour, appreciate and respect their women. The ones who don’t take their partners for granted and take notice of the lil things. The ones like the author of this piece.
“This is a salute to the woman that every man needs. The woman who was there before everything.
The one who opened the door at 4h00AM again and didn’t ask a single question because she knew you were not proud of the dark path your ambition made you walk.
Before you bought mom the big house. The one who was there when mom called to say thank you for the beautiful gift you had sent, when you had forgotten it’s her birthday.
Before the entourage, the one who could see through your friends when you couldn’t see past your friends. Before the platinum cards,. The one who came dressed up and took a whole ten minutes to go through the menu knowing full well there was only one thing you could afford there. And she ordered it. And smiled.
Before the critics. The one who tried to read through the books, go through the sites and listen to the music. Not that she wanted to. But because she wanted to have more to say than “oh, that’s nice”.
Before the two door coupe. When she counted the coins. To make sure you had enough for a taxi. Before your name was written in the stars, when you couldn’t keep the lights on. But her eyes glowed in the candlelight. Before the multiple properties. The one who helped you switch off the light and lock the door. When yet another bright idea had failed.
Before the angelic groupies. The one who showed you your demons. And held your hand as you faced them. Before everyone knew your name. The one who spoke about your dreams like they were her own.
Before the sunrise. On that long, long, long night. That seemed like it would not end. She was there. Helping you count the stars. Before the three piece Armani. When she ironed your fathers’ last gift to you.
Before the corner office. When again, with bloodshot eyes, you put scraps of business plans into the envelope again. She saw a CEO walk out the door.
Before you came bursting through the door, eventually bearing gifts, kids running into your arms. The one who had to answer when confused little minds asked “why doesn’t daddy want to be with us anymore?
this without ever losing herself or her identity. Because she knew that, she too was the one. The one who was there before everything.
I loved it. I hope you liked it too.