Stay with Me

by Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀

These days I tell myself that is why I stretched to accommodate every new level of indignity, so that I could have someone who would look for me if I went missing.

I was not strong enough to love when I could lose again, so I held her loosely, with little hope, sure that somehow she too would manage to slip from my grasp.

No matter how bad things got, I found a way to believe that even defeat was a sign that I was bound to win.

already I was realising that all the rage had been an affectation. Something I’d reached for to use as a defence against shame. Anger is easier than shame.

But the biggest lies are often the ones we tell ourselves. I bit my tongue because I did not want to ask questions. I did not ask questions because I did not want to know the answers. It was convenient to believe my husband was trustworthy; sometimes faith is easier than doubt.