The Lower Eastern Times Opening The Third Eye
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By: Vincent Mumba
If you’re reading this, you’ve probably chosen me or you’re thinking about it. Maybe you’ve already seen enough to know that I am both too much and never quite enough.
Either way, here’s what I need you to know: I’m not always honest. Not because I enjoy lying, but because I’m still learning who I am and how to show up as I am, especially when who I am feels like too much for even me to hold. I am a work in progress. A shifting thing. Some days I am soft and open, and other days I disappear into myself with no warning, no apology. If you’re going to love me, you’ll need to love both.
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I want someone a little clingy, a little possessive but only in the way that makes me feel chosen, never caged. I want to be loved like I’m wanted, not just welcomed. Like your hands know how to wrap around me gently but firmly, like you know how to hold me without making me feel held down. To be my lover is to crave both chaos and calm.
Some days I’ll be the storm – loud, wild, full of fire. Other days I’ll need you to be the weight in my world, the steady thing I can cling to when I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
You don’t have to love the things I love, just love me enough to care about what lights me up. Let me talk about books and podcasts and random bits of information I probably won’t need but can’t stop collecting. Let me put on songs that make no sense to you. You don’t need to understand the music. You just need to let it fill the space between us until it starts to sound like something we both know. Love, the real kind, is not loud.
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It’s quiet. Like the ghost of your hand in mine when you’re far away. Like the way your name in my notifications feels like a soft place to land. You’ll teach me what love is not by demanding it, but by embodying it through your patience, your steadiness, your everyday choosing.
I get high documentaries and conspiracy theories. I love coffee at night and naps in the middle of the day. I love social interactions, but my bed wins more often than not. Nap dates are real. Sometimes I just want your presence, not your plans. Sometimes I’ll want you close, just breathing beside me, even if we never say a word. That, too, is love.
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To be my lover is to give me what you don’t give anyone else. I don’t want the version of you the world sees. I want the quiet one. The soft one. The version of you that doesn’t need to perform. I want to learn your language without words, read your body’s cues with a glance. I want to know when you need space without you needing to ask for it.
I want to be the one you turn to when the world becomes too much. Your person. Your safe place. I want conversations so intimate, so specific, that if they ever leaked, no one would believe they were with you.
To be my lover is to be all in. To choose me not because you have to, but because you want to. Because something in you recognizes something in me and says, “yes, this one.” And in return, I will love you, in every quiet and loud way I know how.
Vincent Mumba is a Nairobi-based writer and columnist known for his bold, honest, and deeply emotional storytelling. He tweets @vincent _mumba14
