JAMAL – A short story

Hi guys. Here’s a short story. Someone once told me that your writing is of effect if it makes people either feel something or think something – writing that touches your heart or your mind. I hope this stirs your heart or evokes some thought❤️


You weren’t my first love, not even my second love but in ways that I can’t put into words or explain, you are my only love. Compared to everything I felt with you, what I had with anybody else fades in comparison. You are the light, the spark in my heart that books often try to describe and quite frankly fail at it because in all sincerity, no words can properly explain what you do to my heart. It’s electric. Always was, always will be.

I remember the first time I met you, you weren’t in my league and I was content with just watching you be you. I wasn’t alone though, you had a personality that was both commanding and endearing at the same time so I could see most eyes trained on you against their consent as you went about your business oblivious to the effect that your presence had. You had a personality that spoke volumes even when you tried to keep it silent. Something about you reminded me of the sun. Bold and warm and gallant all at the same time. How can you not notice the sun?

I think about the first time you spoke to me. You were shy and I genuinely wondered why because I was personally shaking inside and my lungs were having a field day ceasing and unceasing my breath as words failed me.


The first name you called me that made my heart flunctuate. Sunshine, you said softly, as if testing the name, something about it reassured me that I was an illuminator, a force of nature, both beautiful and powerful at the same time. I was a presence you could not ignore, something about that re assurance made me smile.

You never failed to remind me how beautiful I am. How my smile made your day and glistening tears made your heart ache. I would call you jam jam and you would knit your brows in what you assumed was a frown. Lol. How could I not love you? How?

I remember the day you asked me to be your wife. How could I even forget? It was easily the happiest day of my life. You slipping that ring on my finger was an indication that somehow God had decided that I was deserving of you and loved me enough to make you love me with such reckless abandon. Our wedding day is such a blur in my memory because all I could think of was how lucky I was to have you as mine, to share my heart and soul and life with you. I couldn’t wait for all of the hassle and tussle to be over so I could just melt in your arms and drown in the sea that is your eyes. I almost regret that now – not soaking every moment, not breathing you in as much as I could. I couldn’t wait and yet that night…. I would not go into the details of what you did to me as our bodies ruptured in blazing flames just from mere contact. You set fire to my heart and I burned with delight.

I think about the day that my whole world stopped. I cannot forget because I literally have re- lived this day about a thousand times in my head and somehow I can’t get over the gruesome image of you lying on our bed, blood leaking from your torn wrists. I don’t think I moved. I think I screamed, or fell, I can’t really remember but I’m sure I cried. I don’t know where the tears got the strength to fall from or why they thought they had the right to run down my cheeks without warning but they came in torrents not minding that they were blurring my vision and preventing me from seeing you clearly. I remember my heart stopping and not being able to breathe. Till now, each time I think of the fact that you’re gone, each time someone says sorry or asks about “my husband”, each time, my heart stops for a split second and I struggle to breath. It’s amazing how everybody asks me what happened and looks to me for answers that I don’t have. You wrote a letter, one that I didn’t understand or still fail to grasp because I don’t get why someone who was as perfect as you were wanted to die. There were no signs, no warnings, no evidence of your discontentment. How in the world did I not see it? Now though, if I’m being honest with my memories, I can faintly remember a sigh right before you turned off the bedside lamp after you had watched me sleep. I remember your eyes not being as sparkly as they often were a couple of weeks before you left. I re-think and re-live our whole lives together and every second I blame myself. I miss you. I hate that you had to die. I don’t think I know how to be without you, I’m not sure I want to but more than that is the heavy weight that comes from knowing that you killed yourself and for that, I grieve deeply. People say to me all the time, at least he was old enough (like that makes it any better, even forever wouldn’t have been enough) I hate myself for not noticing. I blame my heart for not sensing it. You were like a breath of fresh air and somehow, when you needed to breathe, I couldn’t be your inhaler. You were the sunshine but I let the rains fall and ignored the dark clouds and subtle raging skies and now you’re gone leaving darkness in your wake but after the sun sets, the stars come out to play. I’m hoping that every memory of everything you ever were would shine brightly in hearts that were forever changed by you.

Sometimes your heart will constrict in your chest, leaving an ache in its wake

Sometimes, your lungs would take a break for a minute, taking all the air with it and leaving you struggling to breath.

Sometimes, the pain in your heart is so raw that you literally feel it leaking blood from the punctured places where it’s bleeding.

Sometimes, your head will ache from too much thinking and wondering and pondering and regretting. You’ll hold your head and wish it to stop and feel more pain as you get frustrated realizing there’s nothing you can do to stop it and thinking about that only makes it hard to stop thinking about what you’re trying to stop thinking of which is making you actually think of it and hurt a lot more and if you’re lucky, tears might fall out of your eyes, relieving your chest from some of the tightness that’s making you feel closed in.

But in these times, you will not die. You will breathe again and cry and not hurt again and even though it seems like it, YOU WILL NOT DIE. You will live and find new reasons to breathe fresh air. Your lungs will open, the ache will dull, the pain will subside, the bleeding will stop and that headache will fade away. You will be fine because some times is not every time. You will be fine. I promise.

This is what I would imagine you would say to me Jamal if you could see me now. You always were quite the encourager. I’m sorry I failed you. I miss you💕

11 thoughts on “JAMAL – A short story

    1. Thank you for reading. Yes for the most part, it’s a true story that I embellished a whole lot. The general concept is true but the details are purely fiction


  1. Wow! This needs to be read by thousands more. How is it possible to miss the tell-tale signs of a prospective suicide? How? God please help us to be sensitive to these signs, help us to be better friends and lovers🙏🏽


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